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☠︎ Percy.
The next morning, Chiron moves me to cabin three.
I don't have to share with anybody. I have plenty of room for all my stuff: the Minotaur's horn, one set of spare clothes, and a toiletry bag. I get to sit at my own dinner table, pick all my own activities, call "lights out" whenever I feel like it, and not listen to anybody else.
And I am absolutely miserable.
Just when I started to feel accepted, to feel I had a home in cabin eleven and I might be a normal kid—or as normal as you can be when you're a half-blood—I've been separated out as if I have some rare disease.
Just when I started to get words out of Morana during meals and she stopped side eyeing me every time I sat next to her. And just for my peace of mind, I like to think that she looked a bit sad the first meal after my claiming. But that could just be my brain trying to cope with the feeling of being unwanted.
Finally when my father wants something to do with me, no one else will even look at me.
Nobody mentions the hellhound, but I have a feeling they're all talking about it behind my back. The attack scared everybody. It sent two messages: one, that I am the son of the Sea God; and two, monsters would stop at nothing to kill me. They could even invade a camp that has always been considered safe.
The other campers steer clear of me as much as possible. Cabin eleven is too nervous to have sword class with me after what I did to the Ares folks in the woods, so my lessons with Luke became one-on-one.
He pushes me harder than ever, and isn't afraid to bruise me up in the process. "You're going to need all the training you can get," he promised, as we were working with swords and flaming torches. "Now let's try that viper-beheading strike again. Fifty more repetitions."
Sometimes I wish Luke would catch a cold and Morana would be forced to overtake my 'training'. She has a way of explaining things. I don't know how to describe it, all I know is that it worked better last time than Luke's 'repetitions'.
Annabeth still teaches me Greek in the mornings, but she seems distracted. Every time I say something, she scowls at me, as if I've just poked her between the eyes. After lessons, she would walk away muttering to herself: "Quest . . . Poseidon? . . . Dirty rotten . . . Got to make a plan . . ."
Even Clarisse keeps her distance, though her venomous looks make it clear she wants to kill me for breaking her magic spear. I wish she would just yell or punch me or something. I'd rather get into fights every day than be ignored.
