NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

sixty eight: the embarrassment.

BROOKLYN HAD SEEN Frank surrounded by cannibal ogres, facing down an unkillable giant, and even unleashing Thanatos, the god of death. But she'd never seen Frank look as terrified as he did now, finding the three of them passed out in the stables.

"What . . . ?" Percy reached around Brooklyn to rub at his eyes. "Oh, we just fell asleep."

Frank swallowed. He was dressed in running shoes, dark cargo pants, and a Vancouver Winter Olympics T-shirt with his Roman centurion badge pinned to the neck ( which seemed either sad or hopeful to Brooklyn, now that they were renegades ). Frank averted his eyes as if the sight of them together might burn him. Literally, Annabeth was there too, hello?

"Everyone thinks you've been kidnapped," he said. "We've been scouring the ship. When Coach Hedge finds out — oh, gods, you've been here all night?"

"Frank!" Annabeth's ears were as red as strawberries. "We just came down here to talk. We fell asleep. Accidentally. That's it."

"I kissed Brooks a couple of times," Percy added.

"No you did not." Brooklyn's voice was raspy, shielding her eyes from the light. "Your breath fucking stinks, dude."

"We'd better . . ." Frank pointed to the stable doors. "Uh, we're supposed to meet for breakfast. Would you explain what you did — I mean didn't do? I mean . . . I really don't want that faun — I mean satyr — to kill me."

Frank ran.

When everyone finally gathered in the mess hall, it wasn't quite as bad as Frank had feared. Jason and Piper were mostly relieved, though Jason had sent a smirk to Brooklyn. Leo couldn't stop grinning and muttering, "Classic. Classic." Only Hazel seemed scandalized, maybe because she was from the 1940s. She kept fanning her face and wouldn't meet Brooklyn's eyes.

Naturally, Coach Hedge went ballistic; but she found it hard to take the satyr seriously since he was barely five feet tall.

"Never in my life!" Coach bellowed, waving his bat and knocking over a plate of apples. "Against the rules! Irresponsible!"

"Coach," Annabeth said, "it was an accident. We were talking, and we fell asleep."

"Besides," Brooklyn said, "you're starting to sound like Terminus."

Hedge narrowed his eyes. "Is that an insult, Hayward? 'Cause I'll — I'll terminus you, cupcake!"

She tried not to laugh. "It won't happen again, Coach. I swear on my two hundred and forty two Uno win streak. Now, don't we have other things to discuss?"

Hedge fumed. "Fine! But I'm watching you, Hayward, Jackson. And you, Annabeth Chase, I thought you had more sense—"

Jason cleared his throat. "So grab some food, everybody. Let's get started."

The meeting was like a war council with donuts. Then again, back at Camp Half-Blood they used to have their most serious discussions around the Ping-Pong table in the rec room with crackers and Cheez Whiz, so Brooklyn was used to this.

Percy told them about his dream — the twin giants planning a reception for them in an underground parking lot with rocket launchers; Nico di Angelo trapped in a bronze jar, slowly dying from asphyxiation with pomegranate seeds at his feet.

Hazel choked back a sob. "Nico . . . Oh, gods. The seeds."

"You know what they are?" Annabeth asked.

Hazel nodded. "He showed them to me once. They're from our stepmother's garden."

"Your step . . . oh," Percy said. "You mean Persephone."

"The seeds are a last-resort food," Hazel said. Brooklyn could tell she was nervous, because all the silverware on the table was starting to move toward her. "Only children of Hades can eat them. Nico always kept some in case he got stuck somewhere. But if he's really imprisoned—"