Annabeth rips a page out of the book, crumples it in her fist, and throws it into the waves. It disappears but washes back up on the beach, soggy, disintegrating, and utterly dissatisfying. She grits her teeth, tears out another page, and throws farther.
Annabeth loves books. She loves to read, owns a huge library of new, used, and borrowed volumes that she picked up at bookstores, libraries, and garage sales. She never would intentionally damage a book.
Until now. Another piece of paper flies over the beach and rocks, into the ocean. She doesn't care that she's a vandal and a polluter, both kinds of people she hates. She doesn't care anymore. She used to be a good girl, a model student who kept her mischief under wraps. She made the grades, excelled at everything she put her mind to, rose to every challenge. She's been labelled "troubled," but never "troublemaker."
"Hey you! Troublemaker!" Octavian Augur, the martinet who adores slapping kids' wrists in school, marches over. Annabeth stifles a groan. What is he doing here? He's definitely not a camper, having turned up his nose at Camp Half-Blood, Annabeth's favorite place in the world and her home, but here he is, on the camp beach, ready to penalize her.
"You stole the teacher's book!" he shouts. "Vandalism!" Annabeth briefly remembers grabbing a hardback textbook off a desk. She has all the answers for English tests and questions in her hands, and she's throwing them away.
English book… shit.
"You're going to have to pay for that." Octavian sniffs. "Detention for the rest of the year. An apology for Mr. Blofis. Cleanup duty at lunch. It's pathetic, how badly you behave."
"Shut up, Octavian," Annabeth grumbles. She realizes how stupid she was to rob Mr. Blofis, the nicest teacher at Goode High School. She knows- knew- him like family. But that's in the before times now. Like everything good in her life.
She looks away, across the shoreline, so Octavian won't see the tears forming in her grey eyes.
"Guess he really does blame you then. Honestly, if I were him, I'd be thanking you for getting rid of that troublemaker."
Annabeth grips the book. Count to ten. She can't beat up Octavian, as much as she wants to, because that will get her suspended, and she's already on probation at home. School ends in a week, and she needs to make it to camp. She needs camp so badly that she frequently hangs out on the property, desperately searching for the happier times she's known there. She came straight here, to their beach, after snatching the stupid book at seventh period and cutting class to get some fresh air.
"I never understand why people tolerate reckless, trashy behavior," Octavian drones on. "You people always have some excuse. Dyslexia, ADHD, mommy and daddy issues. How are things, by the way? What's Annabeth Chase's latest sob story?"
"Are you done yet?" she demands. "Just give me my detention and leave."
"I've only just begun." Octavian glances at the camp behind him. Annabeth's heard him whine about Camp Half-blood ever since his dad forced him to spend a couple of summers here. How anyone could not love the place is beyond Annabeth, but Octavian hates the jumble of mismatched, vintage cabins, the rustic simplicity of life next to the woods and ocean, and especially the overabundance of "troubled youth." He hates Camp Half Blood for all the reasons Annabeth loves it.
"You heard about what's gonna happen to this place?" Octavian asks in a fake-friendly way. Annabeth looks at him, confused.
"This old backwater's getting a makeover. Rome Inc. is buying the property. The woods, the camp, the ocean, everything. We're tearing down those eyesores (the cabins, amphitheater, arena, and Big House), cutting down the forest, and dredging the reef. We're gonna build an actually nice place. Holiday cottages. Restaurants. Maybe a fish processing plant. You do like architecture, don't you, Annabeth?"
Annabeth can't speak for a minute. "What are you talking about?" she finally manages, her voice barely above a whisper.
Octavian smirks. "This landfill has been taking up too much space for too long. All these resources here are going to waste. But Rome is going to fix that. Now that treehugger is out of the way, we can finally make progress. Starting with burning the Argo II. In case you haven't heard, the boat's up for sale, and I intend on buying it. It'll make a lovely bonfire to-"
He doesn't finish because Annabeth throws the book straight into his face. There's a sickening crack. Blood splatters his face, twisted in shock. Annabeth swears she broke his nose. Expelled in the last week of school. She doesn't care anymore.
"Annabeth!" She looks up to see Chiron Brunner, the camp activities director and the closest thing she has to a second father, hurrying over. Through his curly brown beard and long hair, she can see he's upset, surprised, and disappointed all at once. She can't take any more.
Annabeth turns and runs down the beach. She's seventeen, fast as a gazelle, and desperate to get away. Inhaling the salty sweet air, she gallops through the sand, leaping over rocks, not looking back as Chiron yells for her and checks on Octavian, whose blood flows through his fat fingers into the sand.