The Story of My Life I slammed her cabin’s door behind me.More Like This
I rarely got angry, really. Annoyed, yes. But actually angry? No, that was Annabeth’s job.
Her name was also rarely associated with anger.
But another argument. Another one.
Why did she always insist she was right? Just because she was Wisdom’s daughter didn’t mean she would be right about everything.
I could be right too, sometimes. She had to see that.
I walked to the front of camp.
No one bothered to question it—I had been at camp so long people rarely questioned me about anything, except some of my friends, or enemies, normally.