The Sea of Monsters

mother is—”
    She stopped herself. You couldn’t just go around announcing that your mom was Athena, the goddess who invented the loom. Most people would lock you in a rubber room.
    Our hostess just smiled. “You have good taste, my dear. I’m so glad you’ve come. My name is C.C.”
    The animals in the corner cage started squealing. They must’ve been guinea pigs, from the sound of them.
    We introduced ourselves to C.C. She looked me over with a twinge of disapproval, as if I’d failed some kind of test. Immediately, I felt bad. For some reason, I really wanted to please this lady.
    “Oh, dear,” she sighed. “You do need my help.”
    “Ma’am?” I asked.
    C.C. called to the lady in the business suit. “Hylla, take Annabeth on a tour, will you? Show her what we have available. The clothing will need to change. And the hair, my goodness. We will do a full image consultation after I’ve spoken with this young gentleman.”
    “But . . .” Annabeth’s voice sounded hurt. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
    C.C. smiled benevolently. “My dear, you are lovely. Really! But you’re not showing off yourself or your talents at all. So much wasted potential!”
    “Wasted?”
    “Well, surely you’re not happy the way you are! My goodness, there’s not a single person who is. But don’t worry. We can improve anyone here at the spa. Hylla will show you what I mean. You, my dear, need to unlock your true self!”
    Annabeth’s eyes glowed with longing. I’d never seen her so much at a loss for words. “But . . . what about Percy?”
    “Oh, definitely,” C.C. said, giving me a sad look. “Percy requires my personal attention. He needs much more work than you.”
    Normally if somebody had told me that, I would’ve gotten angry, but when C.C. said it, I felt sad. I’d disappointed her. I had to figure out how to do better.
    The guinea pigs squealed like they were hungry.
    “Well . . .” Annabeth said. “I suppose . . .”
    “Right this way, dear,” Hylla said. And Annabeth allowed herself to be led away into the waterfall-laced gardens of the spa.
    C.C. took my arm and guided me toward the mirrored wall. “You see, Percy . . . to unlock your potential, you’ll need serious help. The first step is admitting that you’re not happy the way you are.”
    I fidgeted in the front of the mirror. I hated thinking about my appearance—like the first zit that had cropped up on my nose at the beginning of the school year, or the fact that my two front teeth weren’t perfectly even, or that my hair never stayed down straight.
    C.C.’s voice brought all of these things to mind, as if she were passing me under a microscope. And my clothes were not cool. I knew that.
    Who cares? Part of me thought. But standing in front of C.C.’s mirror, it was hard to see anything good in myself.
    “There, there,” C.C. consoled. “How about we try . . . this.”
    She snapped her fingers and a sky-blue curtain rolled down over the mirror. It shimmered like the fabric on her loom.
    “What do you see?” C.C. asked.
    I looked at the blue cloth, not sure what she meant. “I don’t—”
    Then it changed colors. I saw myself—a reflection, but not a reflection. Shimmering there on the cloth was a cooler version of Percy Jackson—with just the right clothes, a confident smile on my face. My teeth were straight. No zits. A perfect tan. More athletic. Maybe a couple of inches taller. It was me, without the faults.
    “Whoa,” I managed.
    “Do you want that?” C.C. asked. “Or shall I try a different—”
    “No,” I said. “That’s . . . that’s amazing. Can you really—”
    “I can give you a full makeover,” C.C. promised.
    “What’s the catch?” I said. “I have to like . . . eat a special diet?”
    “Oh, it’s quite easy,” C.C. said. “Plenty of fresh fruit, a mild exercise program, and of course . . . this.”
    She stepped over to her wet bar and filled a glass with water. Then she ripped open a drink-mix packet and poured in some red powder. The mixture began to glow. When it faded, the drink looked just like a strawberry milk shake.
    “One of these, substituted for a regular meal,” C.C. said. “I guarantee you’ll see results immediately.”
    “How is that possible?”
    She laughed. “Why question it? I mean, don’t you want the perfect you right away?”
    Something nagged at the back of my mind. “Why are there no guys at this spa?”
    “Oh, but there are,” C.C. assured me.