•||ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴍᴇ||• ᴘᴇʀᴄʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ & ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʟʏᴍᴘɪᴀɴꜱ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ [ʙᴏᴏᴋ 1]

-03- hooves and poker

||Full credits to the artist||

[f/s] - favorite snack

•—————{☆}—————•

[Percy's POV]

Confession time: I ditched Grover as soon as we got to the bus terminal.

I know, I know. It was rude. But Grover was freaking me out, looking at me like I was a dead man, muttering "Why does this always happen?" and "Why does it always have to be sixth grade?"

Whenever he got upset, Grover's bladder acted up, so I wasn't surprised when, as soon as we got off the bus, he made me promise to wait for him, then made a beeline for the restroom. Instead of waiting, I got my suitcase, slipped outside, and caught the first taxi uptown.

Before I could go in the taxi, [F/n] grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. Man what was up with this guy and pulling my wrist today??

"You promised us that we could walk you home!"

"Look man, Grover is starting to freak me out and you are too" I pulled away from his grip. "Either you stay with Grover or you come with me"

He looked back for a split second and sighed. "Just hurry up and get in the taxi" He said as he shooed me into the taxi.

"East One-hundred-and-fourth and First," I told the driver.

A word about my mother, before you meet her.

Her name is Sally Jackson and she's the best person in the world, which just proves my theory that the best people have the rottenest luck. Her own parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn't care much about her. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.

The only good break she ever got was meeting my dad.

I don't have any memories of him, just this sort of warm glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile.

My mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her sad. She has no pictures.

See, they weren't married. She told me he was rich and important, and their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back.

Lost at sea, my mom told me. Not dead. Lost at sea.

She worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her high school diploma, and raised me on her own. She never complained or got mad. Not even once. But I knew I wasn't an easy kid.

Finally, she married Gabe Ugliano, who was nice the first thirty seconds we knew him, then showed his true colors as a world-class jerk. When I was young, I nicknamed him Smelly Gabe. I'm sorry, but it's the truth. The guy reeked like moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts.

Between the two of us, we made my mom's life pretty hard. The way Smelly Gabe treated her, the way he and I got along ... well, when I came home is a good example.

We walked into our little apartment. I was hoping my mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe was in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blared ESPN. Chips and beer cans were strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking up, he said around his cigar, "So, you're home.. and you brought a friend"

"Where's my mom?"