The Seven In High School

We Get A Friendly Reminder

PERCY

Intimidated.

That's how Percy felt, but he didn't say it. He wasn't used to this kind of luxury. Heck, he couldn't believe that he was going to stay in this building! And in the penthouse, no less. The most luxurious place he'd been in was the old rundown cabin on Montauk, where his mom had met his dad. (It would've been a vacation house in the Caribbean but he had to go and blow up a cruise ship full of monsters.)

As Piper beeped the key card on the door scanner, Percy tightened his hand around Annabeth's. She made him feel safer and less awkward about himself.

Then the door opened. Percy's mouth opened along with it.

Their penthouse was extremely fancy, but it was nothing like the rest of their building. Their building was mostly made of marble. Their penthouse's floor was made up of squares of dark timber wood; steel beams crisscrossed the ceiling. A large brushed-steel-and-wood staircase spiraled up to the upper floor.

Percy managed to clamp his mouth shut and step inside, dragging Annabeth with him. His girlfriend's eyes were wide and she was muttering something about load-bearing joints. The others weren't much better, either. Jason's mouth was hanging wide open enough to catch a monster; Hazel was blinking rapidly, Frank was literally using his finger to push up his jaw. Leo's eyes were maniacally wide. Percy feared he would try 'renovating' in here. Piper was the only one among them all who was acting normally. Probably because her dad was a Hollywood actor and she had gotten a little used to luxury.

A giant flat screen television hung on the wall of the living room. The back of it was floor-to-ceiling windows that let the bright sunlight pour in. Some couches, a coffee table and a armchair rested on a plush white carpet in front of the windows.

A low laugh sounded from Leo. "Check this out! Never let us forget, huh?"

Percy looked where Leo was pointing. He saw an oil painting of Mount Olympus, complete with the palace of the gods, and with some golden dots of light floating near it.

Annabeth picked up the artist tag to inspect it. "By A. P. Low." she read.

Leo snorted. "It's so obvious. Monsieur Zhang, want to guess?"

"A. P. Low. Apollo. The god of art, among other things." Frank said.

The painting was pretty good. Nothing like Apollo's poetry. The golden sunlight filtering through the celestial clouds looked so real, Percy could almost feel the heat.

"They really want us to remember that we're still demigods." Hazel noted.

"Enough lollygagging, my children. Uncle Leo wants to check out the bedrooms!"