The Battle of the Labyrinth

sometimes, how he could look at you and actually see your thoughts. I guess it was that teacher aura.
    “You’ve had a rough summer,” he said. “I’m guessing you lost someone important. And . . . girl trouble?”
    I stared at him. “How do you know that? Did my mom—”
    He held up his hands. “Your mom hasn’t said a thing. And I won’t pry. I just know there’s something unusual about you, Percy. You’ve got a lot going on that I can’t figure. But I was also fifteen once, and I’m just guessing from your expression . . . Well, you’ve had a rough time.”
    I nodded. I’d promised my mom I would tell Paul the truth about me, but now didn’t seem the time. Not yet. “I lost a couple of friends at this camp I go to,” I said. “I mean, not close friends, but still—”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Yeah. And, uh, I guess the girl stuff . . .”
    “Here.” Paul handed me some punch. “To your fifteenth birthday. And to a better year to come.”
    We tapped our paper cups together and drank.
    “Percy, I kind of feel bad giving you one more thing to think about,” Paul said. “But I wanted to ask you something.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Girl stuff.”
    I frowned. “What do you mean?”
    “Your mom,” Paul said. “I’m thinking about proposing to her.”
    I almost dropped my cup. “You mean . . . marrying her? You and her?”
    “Well, that was the general idea. Would that be okay with you?”
    “You’re asking my permission?”
    Paul scratched his beard. “I don’t know if it’s permission, so much, but she’s your mother. And I know you’re going through a lot. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t talk to you about it first, man to man.”
    “Man to man,” I repeated. It sounded strange, saying that. I thought about Paul and my mom, how she smiled and laughed more whenever he was around, and how Paul had gone out of his way to get me into high school. I found myself saying, “I think that’s a great idea, Paul. Go for it.”
    He smiled really wide then. “Cheers, Percy. Let’s join the party.”
    I was just getting ready to blow out the candles when the doorbell rang.
    My mom frowned. “Who could that be?”
    It was weird, because our new building had a doorman, but he hadn’t called up or anything. My mom opened the door and gasped.
    It was my dad. He was wearing Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt and Birkenstocks, like he usually does. His black beard was neatly trimmed and his sea-green eyes twinkled. He wore a battered cap decorated with fishing lures. It said NEPTUNE’S LUCKY FISHING HAT.
    “Pos—” My mother stopped herself. She was blushing right to the roots of her hair. “Um, hello.”
    “Hello, Sally,” Poseidon said. “You look as beautiful as ever. May I come in?”
    My mother made a squeaking sound that might’ve been either “Yes” or “Help.” Poseidon took it as a yes and came in.
    Paul was looking back and forth between us, trying to read our expressions. Finally he stepped forward. “Hi, I’m Paul Blofis.”
    Poseidon raised his eyebrows as they shook hands. “Blowfish, did you say?”
    “Ah, no. Blofis, actually.”
    “Oh, I see,” Poseidon said. “A shame. I quite like blow-fish. I am Poseidon.”
    “Poseidon? That’s an interesting name.”
    “Yes, I like it. I’ve gone by other names, but I do prefer Poseidon.”
    “Like the god of the sea.”
    “Very much like that, yes.”
    “Well!” my mom interrupted. “Um, we’re so glad you could drop by. Paul, this is Percy’s father.”
    “Ah.” Paul nodded, though he didn’t look real pleased. “I see.”
    Poseidon smiled at me. “There you are, my boy. And Tyson, hello, son!”
    “Daddy!” Tyson bounded across the room and gave Poseidon a big hug, which almost knocked off his fishing hat.
    Paul’s jaw dropped. He stared at my mom. “Tyson is . . .”
    “Not mine,” she promised. “It’s a long story.”
    “I couldn’t miss Percy’s fifteenth birthday,” Poseidon said. “Why, if this were Sparta, Percy would be a man today!”
    “That’s true,” Paul said. “I used to teach ancient history.”
    Poseidon’s eyes twinkled. “That’s me. Ancient history. Sally, Paul, Tyson . . . would you mind if I borrowed Percy for just a moment?”
    He put his arm around me and steered me into the kitchen.
    Once we were alone, his smile faded.
    “Are you all right, my boy?”
    “Yeah. I’m fine. I guess.”
    “I heard stories,” Poseidon said. “But I wanted to hear it