𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

Chapter 7

The book opens and the title appears
'I Become Supreme Lady of the Bathroom'

Clarisse groans and glares at Sereia while the Demigods laugh. Ares raises his eyebrows looking curious. The Demigods who weren't there when it happened lean forward excitedly. The others look between them curiously, amused and weirdly.

|Sereia: I was quick to get over the fact that my Latin teacher is a horse, which he was surprised about but after meeting Firenze I don't think another centaur could shock me, we had a nice tour, though I was careful not to walk behind him. I'd done pooper-scooper patrol in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade a few times, and, I'm sorry, I did not trust Chiron's back end the way I trusted his front.|

They laugh

They pass the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. One points to the Minotaur horn she's carrying.
Camper: That's her

|Sereia: Most of the campers are older than me. Their satyr friends are bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. Im not normally shy, and I was used to it but the way they stared at me made me both, uncomfortable and annoyed. I felt like they were expecting me to do a cartwheel or something.|

She looks back at the farmhouse - four storeys tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upmarket seaside resort. She is checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when a shadow passes in the uppermost window of the attic gable.

The Demigods and Gods look at each other confused and shocked.

|Sereia: I get the distinct impression I was being watched.|

Sereia: What's up there?
She points to the attic window and Chiron looks to where she's pointing. His smile fades.
Chiron: Just the attic.
Sereia: Somebody lives there?
Chiron: No. Not a single living thing.
She narrows her eyes.

|Sereia: I got the feeling he was being truthful. But I was also sure something had moved that curtain.|

Chiron: Come along, Sereia. Lots to see.
His lighthearted tone now a little forced. They walk through the strawberry fields, where campers are picking bushels of berries while a satyr plays a tune on a reed pipe.
Chiron: The camp grows a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. It pays our expenses. And the strawberries take almost no effort. Mr D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just go crazy when he is around. It works best with wine grapes, but Mr D is restricted from growing those, so we grew strawberries instead.
She watches the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire.

|Sereia: I wonder if Grover could work that kind of magic with music. I wonder if he was still inside the farmhouse, being lectured by Mr D.|

Sereia: Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he? I mean... he was a good protector. Really
Chiron sighs. He sheds his tweed jacket and draped it over his horse's back like a saddle. Chiron: Grover has big dreams, Sereia. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing them safely to Half-Blood Hill.
Sereia: But he did that!