Percy Jackson. Book 1. The Lightning Thief

but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel

“Food!” Grover moaned, a little louder.

I shook his furry hip, thinking, No! Even if you are half barnyard animal, you’re my best friend and I don’t want you to die!

“Whoa. You said ‘you.’”

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must’ve been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don’t let that fool you. You should’ve seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.

If you’re reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. It’s scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

If you’re a normal kid, reading this because you think it’s fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.

But if you recognize yourself in these pages-if you feel something stirring inside-stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it’s only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they’ll come for you.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

“When I get back next summer,” she said, “we’ll hunt down Luke. We’ll ask for a quest, but if we don’t get approval, we’ll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?”

“Sounds like a plan worthy of Athena.”

One master bolt delivered. One helm of darkness back on Hades’s oily head.

“a huge step forward in super-ugly neorealism.”

“Brave to the point of indigestion.