House of Cards, percy jackson & the olympians

iii. Bullfighting Showdown

house of cards
❛ iii. bullfighting showdown ❜

━━━━━ IF PERCY WAS confused before, he was lost in the middle of nowhere now.

Outside Ugly Gabe's Camaro, the scenery was a blur of vicious rain, lighting, and rolling thunder. They tore along the dark country roads as Percys' heart hammered in his chest. His chest hurt with fear and pleading desperation — fear and pleading desperation to understand what was going on. To understand why his mother was so scared. To understand what those dreams meant. To understand why Percy's absent father cared so much if he went to some summer camp. To understand why Mrs. Dodds attacked him — and why he was made to feel crazy for knowing she existed. To understand why Grover had furry, donkey hindquarters for legs —

Percy yelped when the car shuddered over a pothole in the road, jolting him upward in his seat. Wind slammed against the Camaro, jarring the car left and right; rain lashed the windshield. He had no idea how his mother could see anything, but she never once slowed down, her foot heavy on the gas pedal. The winding roads seemed to lead nowhere, but she drove as if she knew exactly where they were.

Every time there was a flash of lightning, Percy glanced over at the boy beside him in the backseat. With each glance, Percy wondered if he was truly losing his mind — either that, or Grover was wearing some kind of shag-carpet trousers. There was no way Percy's best friend had donkey legs, right?

But there was a way. Percy could smell the way. Grover smelled like a wet, barnyard animal.

Lightning crackled across the sky, illuminating the backseat of the Camaro. Percy took a shuddered breath, the fear had long set in. There was so much he wanted to say — so many questions he wanted to ask. But as they flew down dangerously narrow roads, he could only stomach one question; "So, you and my mom ... know each other?"

Grover's dark eyes flitted to the rearview mirror, as if checking to see if there were cars following them. Just to make sure, Percy looked around — there was nothing, nothing but the dark Long Island that surrounded them. "Not exactly," he finally answered. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?"

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay." From the expression on Percy's face, he added hastily, "But I wasn't faking being your friend. I am your friend."

His voice wavered, as if he feared Percy's response. Maybe that fear was valid, because Percy had no idea what to say back. His mind was buzzing worse than a beehive — flooded with questions, reactions, and even more questions. The ADHD didn't help, either. Instead of worrying, and focusing, on trying to figure out why his mom and friend were so scared, Percy's main questions were about why Grover was half donkey.

"Um ..." Percy swallowed the built-up saliva in his mouth, "what are you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now."

"It doesn't matter?" Percy repeated, his voice pitching in shock. "From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey —"

"Blaa-ha-ha!" Percy flinched at the noise, shocked at the volume, sharp and throaty. Grover had made that noise before, but Percy thought it was just a nervous laugh; now, he realized it was more like an irritated bleat. "Goat!"