𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, percy jackson

𝐗𝐕. parker meets her idol

CHAPTER FIFTEEN ——
PARKER MEETS HER IDOL !

┊͙ ☄️ ˖ . *. ⋆

( "ares, god of war." )

ONLY A FEW MINUTES LATER, the crew was sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around them, families were eating burgers and drinking milkshakes and sodas.

Finally, the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically. "Well?"

Percy said, "We, um, want to order dinner."

"You kids have money to pay for it?"

Grover's lower lip quivered. Parker was afraid he would start bleating, or worse, start eating the linoleum. Annabeth looked ready to pass out from hunger.

Percy was trying to think up a sob story for the waitress when a rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the curb.
All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a gun holster riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather— but leather that looked like... well, Caucasian human skin.

The guy on the bike looked like he would have been a pro wrestler. He was dressed in a red muscle shirt, black jeans, and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wraparound shades, and he had the cruelest, most brutal face Parker had ever seen— handsome, but wicked with an oily black crew cut and cheeks that were scarred from many, many fights. The weird thing was, she felt like she'd seen his face somewhere before.

As he walked into the diner, a hot, dry wind blew through the place. All the people rose as if they were hypnotized, but the biker waved his hand dismissively and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations. The waitress blinked as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked the group again, "You kids have money to pay for it?"

The biker said, "It's on me." He slid into our booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded Annabeth and Parker against the window.

He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still here?" He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back toward the kitchen.

The biker looked at Percy. He couldn't see the man's eyes behind the red shades, but bad feelings started boiling in his stomach. Anger, resentment, bitterness. Percy wanted to hit a wall. He wanted to pick a fight with somebody. Who did this guy think he was?

Parker stared at the man beside her in awe, as if he was an A-list celebrity.

The man gave Percy a wicked grin. "So you're old Seaweed's kid, huh?"

Percy should've been surprised, or scared, but instead, he felt like he was looking at his stepdad, Gabe. He wanted to rip this guy's head off. "What's it to you?"

Annabeth's eyes flashed him a warning. "Percy, this is—"

The biker raised his hand. "S'okay," he said. "I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's the boss. You know who I am, little cousin?"

The realization hit Percy all at once. "You're Clarisse's dad," I said. "Ares, god of war."

Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions. "That's right, punk. I heard you broke Clarisse's spear."