Our Beach Trip Ends in Disaster

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My name is Harley Allen. I'm the same age as Percy, who's also my childhood friend. We met when we were 7... I think. Our parents just happened to sign us up for the same elementary school. Though I'm sure the Fates had some part in it.

I only realized he was Percy Jackson a few weeks later.

"You know, you have the same name as this fictional guy," I said one day. "Fic-tion-al?" 7 year old Percy sounded out. "His name is Percy Jackson. You even look like him too."
Percy cocked his head. "That's cool. I wanna read it." I scratched my head. "Well, it's a pretty popular series, so you should be able to find it easily. But..." I glanced at him. "You're 7, and you have dyslexia." He pouted. "I don't care."

When Percy's mother came to pick him up early for a dentist appointment, that was the first time I met her. "Oh, and who might you be?" she asked with a warm smile, kneeling in front of me and Percy. I gave her a polite smile. "Harley Allen. Nice to meet you, miss."
"My, such polite manners! Percy, you should learn from Harley." She ruffled my hair gently.

Though I gave her a smile, I was dying on the inside. I absolutely despised being treated like a child.

"I'm glad Percy made a friend with someone as sweet as you. I'm Sally, by the way," she introduced herself. I blinked. "As in... Sally Jackson?" She nodded. "Do you- do you happen to work for a candy shop?" I had to make sure. It was just a coincidence, right? It had to be-

Sally looked surprised. "How on earth did you know?" My eyes widened. "It's called Sweet on America. Have you been there?" I numbly shook my head.

A teacher called Sally over and a few minutes later, Percy and his mother left, leaving me to wonder what I'd ever done to deserve this.
I'd been reincarnated into a fictional universe full of divine beings and monsters. Seriously?

I winced, remembering that I'd never met my mother before. It can't be... right?

My dad was curious when I asked about her that night. His name is Lloyd Allen. He's brown-haired with hazel eyes, 31 years old, loud, and one of the most annoying, kindest, and free-spirited people I know.

One of the things I admired about him was that he knew I wasn't like the other kids my age. I didn't play with toys, watch cartoons, or scribble crayon drawings. So thankfully, I wasn't treated like a slobby toddler.

"You never ask about her. What's going on?" He looked concerned. "Nothing, I just got curious, I guess." I stabbed my pasta.
"Well..." His lips curled into a faint, nostalgic smile. "She had a very... impressive aura, if you know what I mean. Intimidating, but kind... in her own way. And incredibly beautiful- and I mean it, she had looks beyond this world. Like a goddess." He laughed as if sharing an inside joke.

He had a faraway look on his face as he fiddled with the ring on his index finger. I noted the use of past tense in her words. She's dead?

"You look a lot like her." This made me look up. "I do?"
"You have the same face and expressions. Even the hair and eyes. I see bits of her personality in you." I frowned. I don't know about that. Besides my appearance, I'm still the same person I used to be, right?

"Is she... dead?" I hesitated to ask the question. But to my slight surprise, he just shook his head. "Not dead. Just somewhere far away."
I didn't question him any further. I already had my suspicions anyway.

________________________________

"Harley, what do you think of summer camp?" my dad asked out of the blue, after I'd just gotten back from the last day of school. He rested his arms on the couch as I tensed at his words.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm thinking of sending you to a camp this summer."

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