Sometimes Things Don't End Okay.

My Name Is Percy Jackson. I'm Twelve Years Old. Until A Few Months Ago, I Was A Boarding Student At Yancy Academy, A Private School For Troubled Kids In Upstate New York. Am I A Troubled Kid? Yeah. You Could Say That.

She Stared At Me. "fly, ;ole, In An Airplane, Which You Were Warned Never To Do Lest Zeus Strike You Out Of The Sky, And Carrying A Weapon That Has More Destructive Power Than A Nuclear Bomb?" "yeah," I Said. "pretty Much Exactly Like That.

I Will Not Have A Sea Creature Destroyed, If I Can Help It. And I Can Help It.

Do You Have A Favorite Constalation, Percy?' I Was Still Kind Of Wondering About The Little Green Snakes He'd Shoved Into His Jogging Shorts, But I Said. 'uh, I Like Hercules.' 'why?' 'well... Because He Had Rotten Luck. Even Worse Than Mine. It Makes Me Feel Better." The Jogger Chuckled. 'not Because He Was Strong And Famouse And All That?' 'no.

I Stared At Her. Maybe I Wasn't The Brightest Guy In The World When It Came To Girls, But I Was Pretty Sure Rachel Had Just Dumped Me, Which Was Lame Considering We'd Never Even Been Together.