Sorry for the wait. Here's chapter two! A reminder that I do not own Percy Jackson. I only own my OCs and their storylines. I am open to helpful criticism, but please know that I am young so this isn't going to be the best. Thank you for reading! Feedback is very much appreciated.

TWO

It seemed as if the entire school was pulling some twisted practical joke on me and Percy. Except, that couldn't be because a) the entire school was in on it b) the teachers had no clue who Mrs. Dodds was and c) there was a Mrs. Kerr. No one would put that much effort into a practical joke on two nobodies- especially for five months and Mrs. Kerr too nice to pull this sort of trick on two students.

Every once in awhile Percy would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference, to see if he would trip them up, but they would just look at him like he'd confessed to shoving hamsters up his butt. By the time finals rolled around, I could tell he had almost started believing that Mrs. Dodds had never existed. Almost. I had no such problems due to Grover being such a shit liar. What confused me was that though the school had no record of Mrs. Dodds, Mr. Brunner and Grover would get shifty every time I mentioned her.

In my mind, there was no doubt that Mrs. Dodds had existed. Every night, I would get visions of her true demon bat form and wake up in a cold sweat. It happened so often that my roommate started to get worried about me.

The freak weather continued, which didn't help my mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

It was as if my mood was affected by the weather. I was cranky and bitchy all the time (though I hid it behind a "Sorry, I'm tired" mask) and my grades started to slip. I was proud of my grades, even if they were just Bs and Cs. As someone that was both dyslexic and had ADHD, they were pretty high.

Percy got into more fights and I was sent out of almost every class for behavior issues. The last straw, however, had been when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked why I, a dyslexic kid, was doing so horrible on my spelling tests. Percy called him an old sot. I flipped him off. It was a fun experience.

The principal sent a letter to our mother the following week, confirming what we already knew: We would not be coming back next year. I was completely okay with this. I hated this school. It was full of stuck up snobs that got under my skin. Besides, I missed my mom. I didn't care if I had to go to a public school and deal with Smelly Gabe the Pervert and his poker parties.

I tried to find my inner zen. Trying to study for all my finals wasn't exactly a relaxing experience, though -mostly due to my brilliant combination of ADHD and dyslexia. I tried getting help once, but the tutors seemed to think me a waste of their time and skills as soon as they realized exactly how hard it was for me.

I let out a groan of frustration as the words did laps around the page, taunting me with the forbidden knowledge they held. I fell back into the bed, complicit with laying there. My eyes drifted towards my roommate's bed, reassuring that I hadn't woken the girl up. Piper's light snore answered my question.

Piper McLean was one of the few people I got along with at Yancy. She wasn't quite Grover-tier, but she was right below him. She'd even got a bit teary-eyed when I told her I wasn't coming back. A true friend. One that would forget about me in a couple of months, but still, a true friend right now.

I pulled off my socks and slipped beneath my sheets. I snuggled into the warm blankets and let peace wash over me.

Unfortunately, my dreams had other ideas. I was walking down the hallway, coming to a stop in front of Mr. Brunner's door. It was cracked open and the light was spilling into the hallway. My dream-self's footsteps echoed in the empty passage. My hand reached out for the handle, only, it wasn't my hand. It took me a few seconds to realize what was wrong with it. The nails had been chewed on.

One thing that I will admit with little reluctance is that I cared very much about my appearance. I wasn't the type to put on enough makeup to reach clown hood, but I wore light makeup and washed my skin with whatever I could every night. This "vanity" (words of the nun from third grade) extended to my hands. My nails were neatly trimmed and hands moisturized often. Andy Jackson did not bite her nails and have dry hands. Her older brother did.

I hesitated from writing it off as freaky twin stuff. My gut was squirming in distress, warning me that this wasn't some wacky dream.

I was dreaming in my brother's body. My heart raced. Surely it was just a coincidence. Just a weird dream my mind had made up because of stress. There was no possible way that Percy was actually up and about, and about to open Mr. Brunner's door. No. I refuse. Nope. Nothing weird. Nopety nope.

Dream Grover's voice broke me from my reverie of noping, "I'm worried about the twins sir."

Percy's dream-body inched closer.

"They'll be alone this summer," Grover continued. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too-"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing them," Mr. Brunner said. "We need the Jacksons to mature more."

"But they may not have time. The summer solstice dead-line- "

The what?

"Will have to be resolved without those two, Grover. Let them enjoy their ignorance while they still can."

"Sir, they both saw her... ."

"Their imagination," Mr. Brunner's voice insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince them of that."

"Sir, I ... I can't fail in my duties again." Grover choked. "You know what that would mean."

What duties?

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy and Andy alive until next fall-"

What?

The book the Percy-copy-dream-thingy was holding fell to the floor. Shit! My heart thudded in my chest. Dream Percy picked up the Greek Mythology book from the floor and backed down the hall.

My heart raced, creating a marching band with the blood rushing past my ears. I was dreaming. Why was I so worried about being caught?

I slipped inside the nearest empty closet and held my breath, waiting for the weird part of the dream to begin. Maybe Mr. Brunner would come strutting out America's Next Top Model style or Grover with shag carpet pants. Maybe we'd all do the macarena together. Nonesuch things happened.

Instead, a clop-clop-clop sound passed by the door. A dark shadow paused in front of the glass, then moved further down the hallway. My dream continued to be hyper-realistic by adding the sensation of sweat trickling down my neck.

From the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn ..."

The edges of my vision fuzzed over with black and the conversation was muffled. My body slipped from the dream into a deep and silent slumber.

I stood outside the Latin exam hall, waiting for Percy to join me for some mindless vandalism. (I'm joking mom please don't ground me)

I mindlessly braided sections of my hair while I waited and upbraided it before repeating the process. My mind drifted to the previous night's dream. I hadn't had the chance to confide in him the weird dream-copy of himself that I had taken the form of in the dream. It would have been a funny story, except with what had happened with Mrs. Dodds had put me on edge. If he could just hurry up and finish, I could talk to the one person sharing in my hallucination.

Percy stalked out of the room and brushed past me, storming down the hallway. I shot up and raced after him, all thoughts of my dream erased. I took in his uneven breath and teary eyes. I tugged at his hand, begging him to talk to me.

"What happened?" I asked, voice soft.

Percy rubbed his eyes angrily "Mr. Brunner," was all he said. I nodded in understanding. While I didn't know the details, I could gather enough from the context and our history with teachers. No matter how much they would claim to like us, there was always the breaking point. Either one of us would fail something one too many times, or they would finally admit they saw us as a lost cause. Mr. Brunner's warm brown eyes swam in my head, words of past teacher's claims spilling from his mouth. It's best for you to leave. You aren't normal. You're a lost cause. You're not good enough. You're not smart enough. You're not trying enough. You're lazy. You don't care.

I pulled Percy in for a hug in the middle of the hallway. Students skirted around us. Some made moves to tease us but quickly changed thoughts when I glared at them. To many people, it probably seemed like two siblings hugging while one broke down due to the stress of finals. If only that had been the truth.

"C' mon dork, let's go somewhere private."

"Sweet Jesus, finally the end of the Jacksons' adventures at Yancy is here," I joked to Piper as I stuffed my clothes into my suitcase. She chuckled softly. She fell onto my bed and stared up at me.

"Can we keep in touch?" She tilted her head at me, puppy face activated. "Please?" She had a way with her voice. She had just said it so simply and now I felt as if I would die if I didn't keep contact with the younger girl.

"I don't have a phone," I pointed out. "Or an email, and trust me, you don't want letters from me." I sat down beside the dark-haired girl, pulling my knees up to my chest. My mind raced with ideas of how to stay in contact. Piper was a true friend and these last couple of months had revealed how lucky I was to have her as a roommate.

She sniffled beside me. Suddenly, her arms were around me and her head was buried in my shoulder. "I don't want you to go!" She squeezed me tighter, "You're the only person here that doesn't treat me differently because of my dad!"

"I'm sure either Mr. Brunner or Grover wouldn't treat you differently," I tried.

She pouted, "Why do we have to have different lunch periods?"

"Why couldn't you have taken Latin?" She smacked me on the arm.

"I'll miss you, for realzies," she said. My face sobered up quickly.

"For realizes? That serious?" I asked in a lilting tone, letting my natural accent slip through.

Glaring at me, she told me to shut up. I held up my hands in surrender. She stood and unburied her second suitcase from the small mountain of luggage.

Piper unzipped her already neatly packed suitcase and rummaged through it, pulling something out. Standing straight once more, she hugged a dark bundle close to her chest.

Suddenly shy once more, Piper tucked a long piece of hair behind her ear. Extending her arm to me she placed the bundle, now clearly a sweater of some kind, into my hands. The soft emerald color reflected off of it vibrantly. I ran a hand over it, guessing what it was but not believing.

"You were always going on about how much you like mine so I-"

I shot up, wrapping my arms around her tightly, attempting to express my gratitude in the gesture. It wasn't just that she'd gotten me a presumably expensive sweater. It was the fact that she remembered something I had said offhandedly months ago.

The abundance of sentimental changes occurring crashed down on the two preteen girls. And so on the last night at Yancy, the girls of room 432 fell asleep in each other embrace, tear tracks present on their faces.

The next day I sat on the stifling hot Greyhound to Manhattan, silently suffering in between my best friends. I had not at all looked forward to wishing Grover goodbye, but it turned out unnecessary. He was on the same bus, to the same city, for a likely completely different reason than us.

Regret was beginning to seep into my bones, however. Grover's anxious behavior was setting me on edge, and I- for the life of me- could not figure out what exactly had him so nervous. The thought that he was worried about being teased crossed my mind. Glancing up and down the aisle, I had a hard time imagining any of the riders making fun of him.

Percy, on the other hand, looked ready to smack Grover. Not a very reasonable action, but it was clear his anxiety was fraying at my brother's already frayed nerves. His sea-green eyes watched Grover's every moment. Curiously, though I could not tell if it was serious or not, he asked, "Looking for Kindly Ones?"

Grover's entire attitude went from 0 to 100. "Wha-what do you mean?"

My lips pursed. Kindly Ones. Where have I heard that before? As Percy described what had happened the night before the exam, dread grew in the pit of my stomach. It's too accurate to the details for it to just be some freaky ' twin intuition' thing. I considered telling them, but seeing as I could've just repeated what Percy said, decided against it.

Smoothing down the yellow fabric of my dress I drew in deep breaths. If either boy noticed they said nothing, perhaps too enthralled in Percy's regaling of the night to notice the slightly panicking twelve-year-old sat between them. I squeezed my eyes shut. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it.

The problem with the dreams wasn't the possibility that I was dreaming through my twin's eyes, it was that the weird dreams had also signified the beginning of the chasm dreams. For almost an entire month, every night I would dream of a chasm. It's opening a hungry mouth desperate to feed on its next meal. The darkness would enclose on me and then the true horror began.

The chilling, hair raising, nails on chalkboard voice would talk. Some nights it was directed to me. Others, another presence commanded the Voice's attention. It would urge her to do things. The place had enough of an impression on me that I was almost scared to sleep at times. But things like Grover rambling next to me kept me seated on the bus and not in the darkness with the Voice. His explanations of why he'd been meeting with Mr. Brunner were so bad they were funny.

I snorted, "Grover, you're a really bad liar."

His ears blushed pink as Percy nodded in agreement. Seemingly in resignation, he fished out two business cards.

"Just take these, okay? In case you guys need me this summer."

The font itself made me want to gouge my eyes out but I eventually made it out.

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800)009-0009

Percy voiced my question, "What's Half-"

"Don't say it aloud!" Grover yelped. "That's my, um ... summer address."

It hadn't even crossed my mind that Grover could be like the rest of the kids at Yancy. Percy seemed to not have considered it either.

"So, if we want to come to visit your mansion.'

I half-heartedly glared at him, "Thank you for offering, Grover."

"So... If you need me," he nodded.

"Why would we need you?"

My half-glare morphed into a full-on stare down. Percy winced.

"Look, it's my job to protect you two."

I barely held back my snort. The entire time I'd known him, I had picked fights with bullies to keep their attention off of Grover. By saying that, it sounded like he was the one defending us.

"Grover," Percy asked, "what exactly are you protecting us from?"

On cue, black smoke billowed out of the front as the bus screeched to a stop. Cursing, the bus driver pulled over to the side of the highway. Grumbling, the passengers exited the bus.

Standing on the side of the road was a cherry and apple stand, retro style. Just looking at it made my mouth water. Containers of cider sat in the afternoon heat, condensation on the outside showing the coolness of the liquid. There were no customers, just three grandma looking types knitting two massive socks with the middle one holding the yarn.

No joke, the socks were individually as big as my dress. But the two outside grandmas were knitting away. Or was it crochet? Crocheting is cool, a good life skill. I wish I had a grandma to teach me how to crochet, but ours died in a plane crash. I've never been on a plane before- is mom scared of flying? That's probably it. Yeah, just like she's scared of me getting kidnapped whenever I go out to walk a neighbor's dog. Percy always says that they would give me back- ANYWAY, I cut off my rambling thoughts.

Part of my heart pained for the poor women. They were sitting out here in the New York heat, knitting, and trying to sell a product with no costumers. Glancing both ways and seeing that no one was coming, I dashed across the four-lane freeway. I came to a slow jog as I approached the three.

As I drew closer I barely refrained from gasping. They looked old but they were ancient. Like one cough away from death old. Not the "I have a few wrinkles and grey hair" old. My mind still couldn't wrap around the fact that they were knitting (/crocheting?- NOPE we're not getting into that again)

But Sally Jackson didn't raise a rude daughter (that depended on who you asked of course). Painting on a smile, I walked right up to them.

"Hi, how are you three lovely ladies today?" In unison, the three turned to look at me. Cue Kill Bill sirens. The middle one opened her mouth first.

"Are you prepared?" Now, I had been expecting a feebly hard to hear voice with a hint of raspy-ness. I had not been expecting a hard solid response. Or that response either.

My confusion must have shown on my face because the one closest to me waved the other off.

"Would you like any fruit. It's straight from the finest trees of Olympus." She set down her knitting needles and handed me a bag, "Choose carefully." And I kid you not when this old grandma looked into my eyes I felt as if she had seen my whole life and had been left vaguely disappointed.

I flashed another smile, "I would love to. These are granny smith, right? They're the only kind my brother likes- he's over there," I waved at Percy who was still across the freeway. For some reason, Grover looked ready to faint as his blood had drained from his pasty face. I shrugged it off and waved with more enthusiasm to get Percy to wave back. He hesitantly raised his hand in a half-wave.

"Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos", the middle one introduced, pointing at the woman whose name she was saying. My eyebrows went up, I'd heard those names before somewhere-

"Andy," I replied. They nodded in unison again. It was honestly freaking me out a bit but I wasn't going to say anything. "So can I just pick out whatever or?"

The farthest one nodded and repeated, "Choose wisely." They returned to their knotting and I squinted in confusion. They weren't going to watch to make sure I didn't steal? Do I look like a good kid? Because if so I need to get on that stat.

I shrugged and began turning over the apples in my hand. I really hoped these were granny smith apples. I plucked a solid wight from the top, checking them for bad spots. True to their word, these did seem like the finest from whatever orchard they were from. Satisfied with my purpose I walked over to the grandmas.

Holding up my bag of treats I asked, "How much for a bag?" The wind blew lightly, brushing my hair into my face. The trio of grandmas searched deep into my soul once more.

"No payment," they spoke in unison and it that was starting to seriously freak me out, merda! I protested their call and dug out five dollars from my knapsack.

"I can't just take it! Here, I insist," I darted forward and stuck the bill into the yarn basket. I could practically hear Grover's strangled shout above four lanes of light traffic. They eyed me curiously.

"You are destined for great things, Andromeda." I blinked, how did they- nevermind. I grinned and bowed my head in thanks. I looked at the bag of apples and my knapsack. I was not putting them together.

Eyeing the highway I looked both ways (shoutout to mom) before dashing across the highway again. I narrowly avoided a motorcycle and almost ran into the bus driver. I bounced over to my brother and the still close to passing out Grover. Victoriously I held up my bag of premium apples that I had probably overpaid for.

Percy squinted at the bag, "You got granny smith, right?"

I rolled my eyes, "Who do you think I am?"

Grover breathed out, " A very idiotic and impulsive person." I gasped dramatically, clutching my hand to my chest.

"Me? Idiotic and impulsive?"

Grover glared at me, completely serious, "Do you know what you've done? No, of course, you don't-"

"Dude chill. She just bought some apples."

"Yeah, the old ladies were pretty nice too," if I ignored the talking in unison thing. To prove my point and waved at them. Seemingly hesitantly, they waved back, still in unison. I heard Grover choke out, "old ladies?" behind me. But I didn't turn to him, entranced by the new tool drawn from a knitting bag.

The middle one had drawn out an unnecessarily large shear-style pair of gold and silver scissors. Grover's breath caught in his throat.

"We're getting on the bus," he tugged my arm but I couldn't break my gaze from their eyes who somehow met mine across the traffic. "Come on!" He urged.

I heard the two bicker but didn't contribute any thoughts, their words melting into the air and adding only to the heat. I could feel sweat trickle down my neck and I could only hope that my hair was still neatly placed in a bun and my mascara wasn't running.

My mind went back to the old grandmas. They were still watching me, but it felt like their gaze was also on Percy. The middle one cut the yarn and I could hear the resounding snip from my position. I sucked in a breath, finding Percy's hand without looking away as a feeling of dread settled in my stomach.

The bus's engine roared to life. I climbed back on board with Grover and Percy, subconsciously letting myself be led back to our seats. As I sank back into the sweaty seat I dropped the bag of apples into my lap, feeling my throat close up with nausea.

I could at least take comfort in the fact that neither of my companions looked much better. I had yet to let go of Percy's hand, not that I planned to.

Percy was the first to speak, "Grover, what are you not telling us?" I was glad he was the one to ask. I'd just wanted some apples and instead felt like I'd witnessed a death sentence.

Grover twisted his shirttail and turned to face me instead, "Andy, what did you see at the fruit stand?"

"Three old women knitting?"

"And then?" Grover prompted.

"They cut the yarn for the socks?"

He made a crossing gesture but not. It seemed older. I realized that I didn't even know if he practiced anything. Wow, bad friend alert.

"You saw her snip the cord."

Percy frowned next to me, "Yeah, we did? So?" We both knew that it was big. We just didn't know what.

"This is not happening," Grover said. "I don't want it to end the same as last time."

I stared at Percy, glad to see the same look of confusion donning his face.

I shrank back into my seat. Why did she feel so sick? I closed my eyes and leaned my head onto my brother's shoulder. It would be a good idea to try to get some sleep before we got home.

I welcomed the silence that had fallen over the three of us, not caring as I missed on the developmental dialogue in the story of my life.