Death Girl || Leo Valdez (RTB)

I ACCIDENTALLY VAPORIZE MY PRE-ALGEBRA TEACHER

1. I ACCIDENTALLY VAPORIZE MY PRE-ALGEBRA TEACHER

"How do you accidentally do that?" Jason asked.

"I had a Minotaur as a headmaster and I didn't vaporize him." Nico said.

"I once had a Chimera as a English teacher but I didn't vaporize her." Summer told them.

"Yeah, you blew her up." Nico stated.

"Nico!" Summer exclaimed with flushed cheeks. "You said you wouldn't tell anyone!"

"Oops." Nico told her smirking.

"Ooh, I'm going to kill you Nico." Summer growled.

"Have fun little sister." Nico smirked.

Before it could get worse, Piper motioned for Athena to start reading.

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.

"Did anyone?" Nico asked.

If you're reading this you think you might be one, my advice is:

"Oh no Percy's giving advice!" Thalia joked

"Hey!" Percy cried.

Close this book right now. Believe any lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try and lead a normal life.

"Wow that was actually good advice." Clarisse muttered.

Being a half-blood is dangerous,

"Check." Leo nodded.

It's scary,

"Check." Conner agreed.

Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

"Check." Travis said.

The gods shared worried looks. What goes on in these kids lives?

If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened. But if you recognize yourself in these pages---if you feel something stirring inside----stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you.

"You make it sound like a cult, Percy." Piper laughed.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Percy Jackson.

"No it's Peter Johnson." Annabeth joked.

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 troubled kid?

"Yes." The demigods said. Percy gave them a playful glare.

Yeah. You could say that.

"See you even said it yourself." Conner said.

I start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth grade class took a field trip to Manhattan---twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

"That's sounds fun." Athena and Annabeth said.

"Sounds like torture." Poseidon, Hermes Travis and Conner said.