Death Girl || Leo Valdez (RTB)

MY BEST FRIEND SHOPS FOR A WEDDING DRESS

(This is for those of you who don't want to read about Summer's adventures in Hogwarts. But for those of you that do, I am working on a chapter for that, so stay tuned)

"I can't believe you never told us that you were a wizard."

Summer rolled her eyes. "I didn't see the need to."

Everyone stared at her in disbelief. "You didn't see the need to tell us that? Do you know how fast we could of gotten our quests done?"

"That's why I didn't tell." She said, her eyes blazing. "Because you guys would have used me. Let's just get on with reading."

Hazel picked up the book, and raised her brows. "Percy Jackson: The Sea of Monsters."

Thalia straightened up a bit. She had heard the stories of what exactly happened, and she knew she showed up in the story at one point.

1. MY BEST FRIEND SHOPS FOR A WEDDING DRESS

My nightmare started like this.

"A great way to start." Piper said.

I was standing on a deserted street in some little beach town. It was the middle of the night. A storm was blowing. Wind and rain ripped at the palm trees along the sidewalk. Pink and yellow stucco buildings lined the street, their windows boarded up. A block away, past a lone of hibiscus bushes, the ocean churned.

Florida, I thought. Though, I wasn't sure how I knew that. I'd never been to Florida.

Then I heard hooves clattering against the pavement. I turned and saw my friend Grover running for his life.

Yeah, I said hooves.

Grover is a satyr. From the waist up, he looks like a typical gangly teenager with a peach-fuzz goatee and a bad case of acne. He walks with a strange limp, but unless you happen to catch him without his pants, (which I don't recommend), you'd never know there was anything un-human about him. Baggy jeans and fake feet hide the fact that he's got furry hindquarters and hooves.

Grover had been my best friend in sixth grade. He'd gone on this adventure with me and a girl named Annabeth Chase, and another girl named Summer Black to save the world, but I hadn't seen him since last July, when he set off alone on a dangerous quest—a quest no satyr had ever returned from.

Anyway, in my dream, Grover was hauling goat tail, holding his human shoes in his hands the way he does when he needs to move fast. He clipped past the little tourist shops and surfboard rental places. The wind bent the palm trees almost to the ground.

Grover was terrified of something behind him. He must've just come from the beach. Wet sand was caked in his fur. He'd escaped from somewhere. He was trying to get away from...something.

A bone-chilling growl cut through the storm. Behind Grover, at the far end of the block, a shadowy figure looked. It swatted aside a street lamp, which burst into a shower of sparks.

Griver stumbled, whimpering in fear. He mutter to himself, Have to get away. Have to warn them!

"About what?"

I couldn't see what was chasing him, but I could hear it muttering and cursing. The ground shook as it got closer. Grover dashes around a street corner and faltered. He'd run into a dead-end courtyard full of shops. No time to back up. The nearest door had been blown open by the storm. The sign above the darkened display window read: ST. AUGUSTINE BRIDAL BOUTIQUE.

Grover dashed inside. He dove behind a rack of wedding dresses.

The monsters shadows passed in front of the shop. I could smell the thing—a sickening combination of wet sheep wool and rotten meat and that weird sour body odor only monsters have, like a skunk that's been living off Mexican food.