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Word of the bathroom incident spread immediately. Wherever the three kids went, they stared at Percy and whispered to each other. Or maybe they were just staring at Bronte and Annabeth who were still pretty much dripping wet.
Annabeth showed them a few more places: the metal shop (where kids were forging their own swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a goat-man), and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if you didn't get to the top fast enough.
Bronte stared at it as they passed and part of her wanted to run over and try it out. She would fail miserably, but maybe she would dry her clothes faster.
Finally, they returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins.
"I've got training to do," Annabeth said flatly. "Dinner's at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall."
"Annabeth, I'm sorry about the toilets," Percy apologized.
"Whatever."
"It wasn't my fault!" he argued.
The two girls looked at Percy skeptically. Annabeth had her arms crossed over her chest, while Bronte raised a brow at him. Looking between the two girls, Percy realized it was his fault. He made water shoot out of the bathroom fixtures. He didn't understand how, but the toilets responded to him.
Maybe he was Sharkboy...
Percy's face flushed, already thinking of Bronte bouncing up and down, saying, "I told you so!" She would be shaking his shoulders, but there would be big smiles on both of their faces.
"You need to talk to the Oracle," Annabeth said.
"Who?" Percy asked.
"Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron."
Bronte ignored them while they talked, looking down at the water underneath them. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but when something caught her eye, she looked a little closer. At the base of the pier, there were two teenage girls sitting cross-legged.
They wore blue jeans and shimmering green t-shirts, and their brown hair floated loose around their shoulders as minnows darted in and out. They looked up at Bronte and smiled widely, sending her a small wave.
Unknowingly, Bronte waved back, a smile appearing on her face.
"Don't encourage them," Annabeth warned her, her brows knitting together. Percy turned around to see what his friend was doing. "Naiads are terrible flirts."
Percy walked over to Bronte, peering over the ledge to see the girls. He stared in disbelief, an overwhelming feeling taking over. "Naiads? That's it. I want to go home now."
