Unknown Friendship

CH3 - Meeting New People

Let's say Percy turned 16 in 2010,
and he was born in 1994.

Warning: mentions of abuse, and idiot, violent kids.

Katie Gardner's POV

September 29, 2001.

I whooped and cheered as the rider held fast to the wildly bucking horse, a huge stallion that no one has ever managed to stay on for longer than thirteen seconds. For my seventh birthday, which was today, my daddy had brought me to the annual rodeo. He was a volunteer, too, so we were right next to all the animals. Of course, some of the animals were mean and would bite off my fingers, but the other portion was nice.

I peeked over my shoulder to see my favorite horse—my horse—Cupcake. People had always asked me why her name was Cupcake. Well, she looked like a cupcake; with her red tinged fur and pitch black hair, she reminded me of the red velvet cupcakes my grandmother always made on Halloween. It had taken a while for me to convince my daddy that her name should be Cupcake, but he finally gave. Thus the name Cupcake was born!

I was broken out of my remembrance by Daddy, who was pounding his fists on the fence I was standing on and screaming: "No! No! No! He needed two more seconds! Two more! Then he would've had the record! Two more!"

I poked my daddy in the arm. "I bet you could've done that."

He smiled warmly down on me. "I don't think so, sweetheart."

I gave a confused look. "Then why're you mad that he didn't last two more seconds? It's not like he gave up."

"Well sweetheart," he started, "I guess I was upset that he didn't try harder."

My face scrunched up in thought. "But Daddy, there is no such thing at trying really, is there? You either do or don't, right?" Score one for genius girl! I cheered to myself.

My daddy blinked once in shock and once in surprise. "I guess you could but it that way, but..."

I had already fazed him out. "Look, Daddy! The bull! They're bringin' out the bull!"

Daddy chuckled quietly under his breath. "Yep, they're bringin' out the bull alright."

I watched in awe as the bull stormed out into the center of the dirt-covered field. I waited anxiously for the man with the red cape to walk in with the furious bull and dodge all its availed attempts, but that didn't happen. Instead, a young boy, about my age it seemed, ran in. He was wearing faded jeans with holes in the knees, a plain black T-shirt, large sunglasses, and a gray beanie.

It is summer! Why was he wearing that? He's going to get a heat stroke or something! I thought to myself.

I quickly shook the thoughts from my head. There were bigger matters to attend to. Like, for example, the boy was untrained to survive a bull charging at him at full speed, but he was stuck in a rodeo where a giant bull was about to trample him to death.

Yeah, not good.

Daddy started shaking the fence and shouting for help or an experienced person. He rattled the fence again, bobbing me back and forth. "It's stuck!" he bellowed, panic raising his voice. "The fence, it's jammed!" My daddy pulled me off the fence. "Honey, go over there"—he pointed outside the entrance—"and wait."

I felt myself walking towards the entrance, but turned back to watch the boy. And I just couldn't turn away.

He was confusing, and I wanted—needed—to know, to not be as confused.

I watched as the boy stood completely and utterly still, minus the twitching of his fingers, waiting. The bull charged, yet the boy didn't move.

The bull was closing in.