“You were thinking about your stepbrothers,” I guessed.
The arrival of those babies had meant the beginning of the end for Annabeth’s relationship with her dad. At least, at the time. She’d run away from home shortly afterward, feeling forgotten and unwanted.
She kissed me. “You’re not in the same place as I was, thank the gods. You’re going to be a great big brother.”
A warm flush of joy washed through me again. “You think?”
“ ’Course. And I can’t wait to see you learn how to change diapers.”
“Hey, I cleaned Geryon’s stables of flesh-eating horses. How bad can baby diapers be?”
She laughed. “In April or May, I’m going to remind you that you said that. You’re going to be begging to leave for college then.”
“I dunno,” I said. “I mean . . . to be with you, sure. It’s just . . .”
She nodded. “I know. Families are hard. Long-distance families are even harder.”
That was something we both understood.
She squeezed my hand. “See you Monday, bright and early.”
And she headed down the steps of the station.
At least I have Annabeth, I thought. We would stay together. Assuming, of course, we solved this whole chalice issue. Otherwise, I’d be stuck in New York, and I’d have a whole lot more diaper changing to look forward to. At that moment, though, both options felt okay. . . . I could make either one work.
Multiple positive outcomes?
Wow. There was a first time for everything.
School waits for no one.
That’s a famous quote from somebody, I think. And it’s true. Friday morning came whether I wanted it to or not. I was still sore from the fight with Elisson. My brain felt like it had been turned inside out from my mom’s news. I hadn’t studied enough for my science quiz, by which I mean I hadn’t studied at all.
On top of all that, I got a PA announcement in third period telling me to report to the guidance office, and I was not in the mood to be flushed.
“Percy!” said Eudora as I walked in. She sounded suspiciously glad to see me, or maybe she was just surprised that I was still alive. “Please, sit!”
I had a plan. If she tried to flush me again, I would command the water to lift me toward the ceiling. Then I would steal her jar of Jolly Ranchers and run back to class, laughing maniacally.
“So!” She laced her fingers and beamed at me. “How is everything?”
“Everything is a lot,” I said.
I told her about my mom having a baby. Eudora seemed delighted, until I explained it was a human baby, not one with Poseidon.
“Oh, I see.” She shrugged. “Well, that’s nice, too, I suppose. And your classwork?”
“Um . . .”
“And the recommendation letters?”
I brought her up to speed. I told her we would be going Monday morning to search Washington Square Park, and I emphasized that there was no need to flush me there.
“Hmm . . .” She looked at Sicky Frog as if it might want to weigh in. “And what exactly are you searching for in Washington Square Park?”
“Ganymede’s chalice,” I said. “We think it was taken by someone named Gary.”
She paled, like sand when you step on it and all the water is pushed away. “You know, it’s not too late to consider community colleges. Did I mention Ho-Ho-Kus? I have a brochure here somewhere.”
“Hold up—”
“You could get an associate’s degree in mechanical engineering—”
“Eudora.”
“Or accounting—”
“New Rome University,” I said. “Remember? That’s the goal. Why are you suddenly steering me away? And please don’t tell me Gary runs a yoga class.”
She shifted in her seat. “No, no. And it’s not so much steering you away. It’s more . . . wanting you to stay alive.”
I glared at her, doing my best to channel my dad’s Unhappy Sea God look. “I’m going to need more than that. You’re my guidance counselor, so guide me. Who is Gary?”
“You know—I just remembered—I have a thing. . . .”
A green whirlpool surged up around her. The curtain of water collapsed, splattering kelp across the floor, and Eudora was gone. I glanced at Sicky Frog and wondered how bad this Gary had to be to get a Nereid to flush herself out of a conversation. Sicky Frog had no answers. I grabbed a big handful of Jolly Ranchers and headed back to class.
Lunch was no better. I sat down with my bag lunch—a leftover lasagna sandwich with a leftover cupcake—and I was just starting to feel like maybe I could relax for a few minutes when I heard the ominous tinkling sound of someone filling my thermos.