The Lightning Thief (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, #1)

by Rick Riordan

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I’ve missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it.

“Um…what are you, exactly?” “That doesn’t matter right now.” “It doesn’t matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey—” Grover let out a sharp, throaty “Blaa-ha-ha!” I’d heard him make that sound before, but I’d always assumed it was a nervous laugh. Now I realized it was more of an irritated bleat. “Goat!” he cried.

I stared at the orange haze of the sky and tried to understand how Grover could pursue a dream that seemed so hopeless. Then again, was I any better?

I’d love to tell you I had some deep revelation on my way down, that I came to terms with my own mortality, laughed in the face of death, et cetera. The truth? My only thought was: Aaaaggghhhhh!