CHAPTER 3 – THE LAMBORGHINI RETURNS

"We were thinking about names," my mom continued as if nothing had happened. "We thought that we should ask you. What about – I don't know – Grover?"

My eyes proceeded to match the cavernous size of my mouth. Blowfish decided to intervene.

"Percy, if you're – "

"No, I'm fine," I stammered, while my face stated the exact opposite. "I just need the bathroom again."

Two lies in a row – not good for my conscience. I stumbled out of my chair, and, shaking like a San Francisco earthquake, hobbled out of the room. I ran across the hall and into my room, forgetting to lock the door behind me, as any sensible stropping teenager would do.

I heard Annabeth across the hall, saying something about moody teenagers to my mom and my accidental Blowfish stepfather, before tramping across the floorboards and into my room. She shut the door behind her, and turned to face me, arms folded and a vicious look spread right across her face.

"Well, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said. "It could've gone worse."

"What do you mean?" I said, raising my head from the pillows. That was a warning sign.

"I mean, all Poseidon's – sorry! – kids inherit their father's qualities."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I bellowed.

"What is your problem, Salty Sea Spit-wad?" Annabeth snapped. "You're just being a jerk now!"

"I'm the jerk now?" I snapped. "You make me sound like Gabe!"

"Well," Annabeth screamed, "perhaps that was deliberate! Perhaps you are just a rancid, nauseating, antagonism-provoking quakebuttock!"

If I had understood a single insult in that last sentence, and modern chivalry hadn't existed, Annabeth would be in headlock by now. And I was just about to rebound in insults, perhaps with what people might call 'colourful language', when a familiar voice and a revving engine came outside of the window.

"Hey! Percy! Annabeth!" Grover shouted with excitement coursing through his voice. "Check it out!"

I leant out the window, face flushed with the heat of my argument with Annabeth. Without giving said Wise Girl a single glance, I slung several clothes into a suitcase, packed a rucksack, and walked out. I didn't stop to look at Annabeth's face, but I could sense it was annoyed.

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Annabeth stormed past me, shoving me into the hat stand at the front door of our apartment building. It had been an hour now, and still she hadn't plucked the nerve to speak to me. The porter gave me an odd look and shifted his attention back to his magazine.

"Hey guys," Grover bounded out of his new Lamborghini, looking like a person with dubious mentality in his enormous sombrero and giant poncho that passed his knees, "whaddya think?"

"Wicked, Grover man," a sly little smile, one that I thought I had not had for years, spread across my face. It was taking most of my willpower not to burst out laughing at the sight of this Mexican-esque satyr bounding towards me in fake feet. "Nice sombrero."

"That's not all," Grover's grin continued, as he re-adjusted the sombrero and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Look who I brought along for the ride."

I looked over Grover's shoulder and saw Annabeth chatting with a girl of about fifteen or sixteen, wearing a punk outfit and a bow slung over her shoulder. She caught my gaze as I caught hers, and greeted me:

"Seaweed Brain," She strode up to him, and hugged him. "How are you?"

"Fine," I said without daring to look at Annabeth. "And you?"

"Let's save it for the car, shall we?" Grover said anxiously, holding the back door open. "We've got a long way to Long Island and I have a feeling Chiron wants us pretty urgently."

"Fine," Thalia said roughly. "We'll talk in the car, shall we?"

I was bundled into the car, as far away from Annabeth as possible. She took the front seat with Grover, while I was stuck in the back with Thalia. Grover revved up the engine and sped away.

"How's life been with the Hunters?" I asked Thalia as we began to leave Manhattan.

"It's only been three months," Thalia began, "but it's amazing how quick the Hunters are. Sometimes it's nearly impossible to keep up with them. We've caught so many monsters in the past few months. They're all still in mourning for Zoë Nightshade but I think that only spurs them on even more. Zoë…"

I let the silence hang for an awkward amount of time. Thalia and Zoë, although not completely at each other's throats, were bitterly at war during Zoë's life. If Cronus and the Titans did not cause World War Three, Thalia and Zoë were just about to.

"Aargh, out of gas," Grover groaned, kicking the inside of the car. "Can you guys see a gas station on this road anywhere?"

"Over there, on the right," Annabeth pointed to a rickety old gas station perched on the side of the road. It looked so derelict that even Nereus, the hobo Old Man of the Sea would have been ashamed to live there.

I was trying hard to avoid looking at her, but I felt immobilised by the sight of her chilling grey eyes in the mirror. I finally managed to break them away as we pulled up against a pump.

Grover got out of the car confidently enough but he returned seconds later, looking dejected already.

"Okay, do any of you guys know how to work a gas pump?"

"I'll show you, Grover," I sighed, giving my old friend a hand. "I've seen my mum do it enough to know how."

Grover slightly reluctantly operated the pump under my instructions, and jumped so high with excitement when he finished that he could easily have concussed himself on the ceiling.

"I did it!" he almost squealed, and then his face fell. "But I don't remember how to do it now."

"Grover, you've got a long way to go with this Lamborghini," I sighed. "And now we have to pay."

Grover's face fell so far it was like the Mariana trench.

"We have to pay?" he said in a small voice.

"Of course," I laughed bitterly. "Blowfish says that nothing's free, but he's a cynical git."

"He's only a cynical git to you because he's going to be your stepfather," Annabeth replied irritably, stepping out of the Lamborghini and primly shutting the door behind her. She was actually talking to me now.

"You're a fine one to talk when it comes to step-parents, Miss Wise Girl!" I replied.

"Whoa, Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson, keep your domestics away from us!" Thalia laughed. I stared at her. It wasn't exactly funny.

"Percy, your mom and Blowfish – oh, you've got me saying it now – are getting married?" Grover gasped. "That's great!"

"And his mom's pregnant," Annabeth added sneeringly. She was really rubbing the salt in now. Grover missed the bitter edge completely. "He's got a little brother on the way."

"Double great!" Grover punched the air.

"Double trouble," I retorted. "In case you hadn't noticed, my stepfather résumé isn't exactly brilliant! What if he turns out like Gabe? Nice to us before the wedding and then he becomes a complete jerk?"

"He won't," Thalia tried to reassure me.

"And I've already got Tyson for a half-brother!" I was almost choking with anger now. "And look how he turned out!"

"Tyson is a Cyclops," Annabeth said testily. "Cyclopes and humans are totally different. I think Thalia and I found that out quite thoroughly all those years ago."

Was she trying to play up the sympathy? It wasn't working with me.

"Annabeth's right," Thalia was forced to admit. "Now are we going to pay for this or not?"