A few old-timers would be staying behind, and a few of the newcomers, but I was

heading back to Goode High School for my sophomore year — the first time in my

life I'd ever done two years at the same school.

 

"Good-bye," Rachel said to us as she shouldered her bag. She looked pretty

nervous, but she was keeping a promise to her father and attending Clarion

Academy in New Hampshire. It would be next summer before we got our Oracle back.

 

"You'll do great." Annabeth hugged her. Funny, she seemed to get along fine with

Rachel these days.

 

Rachel bit her lip. "I hope you're right. I'm a little worried. What if somebody

asks what's on the next math test and I start spouting a prophecy in the middle

of geometry class? The Pythagorean theorem shall be problem two. . . . Gods,

that would be embarrassing."

 

Annabeth laughed, and to my relief, it made Rachel smile.

 

"Well," she said, "you two be good to each other." Go figure, but she looked at

me like 1 was some kind of troublemaker. Before I could protest, Rachel wished

us well and ran down the hill to catch her ride.

 

Annabeth, tha nk goodness, would be staying in New York. She'd gotten permission

from her parents to attend a boarding school in the city so she could be close

to Olympus and oversee the rebuilding efforts.