Work Text:
Estelle’s all of seven years old and she already has an essay due on Monday.
She’s aware that this is important. Miss Dahlia is super diligent about things like homework. She wouldn’t have given them all an assignment to write a full page on the topic if she doesn't think it’s vital to their growth.
You know? Like how sunlight is vital to a plant’s growth. She learned that a whole year ago.
Punk
That’s the topic of Estelle’s essay.
Or it could be Pink .
Estelle squints her eyes and observes the word closely. Miss Dahlia has very funny handwriting. Her words are nice when they’re on a chalk or sharpie board, but on paper, the letters are sort of squiggly.
It could be a “u.”
Or an “i.”
Estelle huffs. She knows what pink is. It’s a pretty color that happens during the sunrise or when some of Mommy’s window flowers bloom. It was Estelle’s favorite a month ago, but ever since she’d spent the day with Thalia, silver is now her new fav.
All she knows about punk is that Thalia once called Percy “punk.”
Percy’s her big brother. He’s the best big brother in the world. Tyson’s very close to that title too, but this week, Percy had gotten her a new headband with springy alien ears dangling from them. She wore it at home all the time.
Estelle taps her pencil to her chin. Mommy does that sometimes when she thinks. Estelle is thinking.
Punk or pink?
Maybe pink is like Annabeth. She’d once worn a nice pink sweater and Estelle had loved it so much, she’d given Annabeth her favorite pink crunchie because it matched so well.
And if punk is like Percy, then that’s also a very good thing.
‘Cause he likes Annabeth and she likes him. So that means, punk and pink go really well together.
.
Miss Dahlia must have done this on purpose. Maybe she thinks Estelle has to choose.
But she didn’t want to choose between Percy and Annabeth. So she’s not gonna.
Pünk
I think pünk is nice. It’s soft and strong all at once. I feel good when I’m around pünk people because they smile nicely, sometimes say bad jokes and also be super funny too.
My big brother is pünk. He smells like the ocean and looks messy. He makes me cornflakes in the morning when my Mom and Dad are running in the house. He ties my hair nicely and also taughts me how to punch bullies so I won’t get hurt.
My brother’s girlfriend is like my best friend. She is also pünk. She smells of cement and pens because she builds statues and towers. She makes houses for lots an lots of people.
I wanta be pünk when I grow up. I like my dolls and they’re all gonna be whatever they wanna be as long as they’re nice to each other. They protect my room when I sleep so there’s no monsters to get me.
Pünk is safe. We should all have some pünk in our life.