Leo,” Hazel gasped, “I can’t—my arms—” “Hazel,” he said. “Do you trust me?” “No!” “Me neither,” Leo admitted.

[Piper] rushed to get dressed. By the time she got up on deck, the others had already gathered—all hastily dressed except for Coach Hedge, who had pulled the night watch. Frank’s Vancouver Winter Olympics shirt was inside out. Percy wore pajama pants and a bronze breastplate, which was an interesting fashion statement. Hazel’s hair was all blown to one side as though she’d walked through a cyclone; and Leo had accidentally set himself on fire. His T-shirt was in charred tatters. His arms were smoking.

The Feast of Fortuna had nothing to do with tuna, which was fine with Percy.

Frank didn’t drop you on purpose,” she said. “He’s not like that. He’s just a little clumsy sometimes.” “Oops,” Leo said, in his best Frank Zhang voice. “Dropped Leo into a squad of enemy soldiers. Dang it!

I gave her my deluxe I'll-Kill-You-Later stare.

Always, Always have a plan

We ran, plowing through another pile of peppers. [No, I didn't pick a peck of them, Sadie - just shut up.]