CHAPTER 1If there's one thing a foster kid's not supposed to do, it's draw attention to herself. I should know, I've been in the system my entire life. I mean literally since the day I was born, and my parents left me at a bus stop on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. A bus stop! Seriously, people, there are better places to leave a kid.Maybe they were doing me a favor. They could be a pair of black-hat computer hackers living off the grid. Or maybe they were astronauts leaving on a trip to Mars and couldn't risk taking a child along. I like that one. But let's face it--they probably took one look at my scrunched-up red face and decided I was going to be trouble with a capital T, and wisely skipped town without me.I try to live up to their expectations. Can you blame me? It's not like I've had good role models. My foster families have been a niiiiightmare. I could tell stories. Like the time foster dad number five locked me in a closet because a sudden hailstorm put baseball-sized dents in his new Mustang. The one he bought with the money the state paid him for my braces. Was I mad? Yeah. But a hailstorm? Even I'm not that clever.Or the time my foster sister said I barbecued her cat up in a tree. The cat had a habit of peeing in my backpack. Let's just say I had a grudge. But it's not like I can send lightning into trees. And they thought I was the crazy one. I'm not saying things don't happen when I'm around. What I'm saying is they're not my fault. I'm Phoebe, by the way. Phoebe Katz. Carl says I should be more responsible.Carl's my social worker. He's from Brooklyn. His head reminds me of a bowling ball with a mustache. Carl's the only one who cares if I'm breathing or not. Of course, it's his job to care. But I don't hold that against him. See, Carl's the one who found me that day on the bench. I owe him. If he had known how much trouble I was going to cause him, he probably would have left me there.But that's jumping ahead of the story . . . CHAPTER 2It was Tuesday, which meant Lasagna Day in the cafeteria. Compared to Mystery Meat Monday it was something to look forward to. There was a History Fair at my latest attempt at staying in school, Dexter Academy, and I'd spent all night finishing my model of the Acropolis, gluing row after row of sugar cubes in place. It leaned to one side, but if you tilted your head, it wasn't so bad.Ordinarily, I didn't give two zots about school or grades, but if my entry won an award, Carl had promised to get me a new cell phone--one that didn't flip open--so I had made an extra effort. I'd even tucked my uniform shirt in and brushed the knots out of my hair.The auditorium buzzed with activity as students set up their displays. My friend Damian Rodina waved to an open spot next to him. Damian was a brainiac to the nth degree, which would normally bore me, but he kind of grew on you when he was rattling off useless facts. I angled my way toward him, carefully balancing my model, and bumped right into Dexter's resident queen of snobs, Julia Pillsbury. Julia stood by her replica of a volcano labeled MT. ETNA. Gooey orange sludge oozed down the sides toward a neatly constructed village surrounded by plastic pine trees. No doubt her team of butlers and personal assistants had worked all night so as not to damage her perfect nails.Julia glanced down at the model in my hands and laughed in that irritating way of hers. "You can't be serious, Phoebe--a trained squirrel could have glued straighter walls than that." Ordinarily I would have found a way to insult her back, but I didn't want to drop my model, so I stepped aside and moved on. I was the bigger person, got it?Julia was the one who stuck her red-booted foot out and tripped me.In slow motion, I sprawled forward, falling flat on my face. As my chin hit the linoleum floor, my project went flying, shattering into a bazillion pieces."Oops." Julia put a hand to her mouth, feigning shock.A wave of rage and frustration washed over me as I eyed the broken mess. I had tried my best, for once. Really tried. And this was what I got for caring.I pushed to my feet, ignoring my stinging chin and bruised knees. Little Miss Perfect was about to get a mouthful of my knuckles. My fingers curled into tight fists as a sudden clap of thunder outside made everyone in the room gasp. A bright bolt of lightning lit up the windows, and the air pressure in the room dropped, making my ears pop.Damian appeared at my side. "Don't do it, Phoebes. There's a ninety-seven percent chance you'll be expelled."I snorted. Being expelled would be worth it to wipe that superior look off her face. A girl with black pigtails died pink at the ends stomped up on the other side of me, planted her Doc Marten boots, and smashed one fist into her open palm. "Want me to take care of her, Katzy?"Angie Spaciacolli. The third member of our group. As usual, her school tie was pulled to the side, and her shirt flaps were untucked. "No, I got this."Julia laughed, tossing blond hair over one shoulder. "Oh, look, the loser brigade's in town. Nerd, thug, and charity case." She pointed in turn at Damian, Angie, and then me.My rage boiled higher. Picking on me was one thing, but picking on my friends? Another boom of thunder rattled the windows as my fingernails dug into my palms.Julia cast a glance at my fists, then gave a tiny shrug and folded her arms. "You wouldn't dare lay a finger on me."Oh, I dared. Carl would just have to find me a new school. He'd done it before. I raised my fist, but before I got a chance to ruin that perfect nose, her volcano burped. She turned toward it at the exact moment it erupted in a spray of fake lava.Julia screamed as globs of rotten-smelling orange goop dripped from her eyelashes and hair. She pointed a shaking finger at me. "You. You did this." I was too busy laughing along with Damian, who just snickered under his hand, and Angie, who was bent over double, to point out that was ridiculous. "Hear, hear, what's the meaning of this?" Mr. Arnold, the school principal, rushed to Julia's side. He reminded me of a walrus with legs. A long whiskered mustache drooped down over his chin, and his beetle brows were drawn into a frown."This clumsy goat dropped her project, and now she's ruined mine!" Julia shrieked. "I want her expelled. Wait till Daddy hears about this." She stomped her red boot and rushed out.Principal Arnold turned to me, one thick brow raised in that accusing way I was used to seeing from every adult I met. "Well, Miss Katz? Anything to say?"Loads."I didn't touch her stupid volcano! Julia's the one who tripped me and made me drop my project.""Did anyone see her trip you?" He looked pointedly at Damian and Angie. Damian flushed and shook his head. "Sorry, Phoebes, I wasn't looking.""Me neither," Angie admitted.Arnold harrumphed. "Then there's no proof you didn't trip over your own two feet. Miss Pillsbury has an impeccable reputation, whereas you . . ." He didn't need to finish. I knew all about my reputation. "See that you clean up this mess," he ordered.I choked. That was so unfair! I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but Damian dragged me away. "I see no way to avoid expulsion if you yell at the principal. I'll help."The bell rang and Arnold clapped his hands, barking orders for students to go to class. "That includes you, Mr. Rodina."Damian grimaced, mouthing an apology to me, and followed the others out. Angie made faces behind Arnold's back, making me smile, and then I was alone. 

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Excerpted from The Eye of Zeus: Legends of Olympus, Book One by Alane Adams
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