Oh. My. Gods. (11 page)

“It’s a night to honor Prometheus,” Troy explains.

“The guy who stole fire and gave it to people?” I ask. See, I did pay attention in English class.

“Yeah,” Troy continues. “When he did that it created a kind of bridge between man and the gods. Without that link,” he says, smiling, “none of us would be here.”

“So we honor him by throwing a huge party, lighting up the beach, and pretending like we don’t hate each other the rest of the time.”

“Ignore Nic,” Troy admonishes. “It’s the best party of the year.”

“Sounds like fun.” I could use a few hours of homework- and training-free fun. And at least I get to sleep late tomorrow since I don’t meet Coach Lenny until eight on Saturdays.

“It starts at nine.” Troy looks down at his hands. “How about I come by—”

Another low whistle from Nicole interrupts whatever Troy is say-ing—and I’m a little annoyed because I think he’s on the verge of asking to be my date to the bonfire.

“Those two are taking PDA to a whole new level.” Nicole grunts in disgust and returns her attention to her food.

A few feet away, Griffin and Adara are sucking face like they’re attached at the mouth. Wow, they could at least keep their oral fixations behind closed doors.

I’m about to make some dismissive comment and return my attention to Troy when a paper airplane comes flying into my meat loaf. Looking around, I see Stella watching from three tables away, gesturing at the airplane and indicating I should open it.

Frowning, I pluck the airplane’s point out of the mush and unfold the paper.

Don’t forget our deal.

Now’s the perfect chance to start.

The deal. Right, I’m supposed to magically come between the golden couple. I must have been seriously sleep deprived when I agreed to this. There’s no way I’m going to—

The paper in my hand glows for a second and more words appear.

I get my powers back in three days, kako.

Want to eat earthworms next time?

“What does kako mean again?” I ask.

“I told you,” Nicole says. “It means you’re not a—”

“No,” I interrupt. “What does it really mean?”

Troy looks up from his meat loaf and gives me a sympathetic smile. “It means you have bad blood.”

I start to crumple the note into a ball, ready to fling it back in Stella’s face. Nothing more than she deserves. But something holds me back.

The paper glows again.

And don’t tell anyone you’re doing this for me or you’ll never get off

this island!

As soon as I finish reading the last word, the note glows again and I’m there holding a blank sheet of paper.

If she doesn’t have her powers, how did she zap the note?

I look up and another highlight-heavy harpy is huddled close to Stella, her finger pointing at me. Guess it pays to have supernatural friends. Before Stella’s friend can zap me into a bat or something, I stand up abruptly, knocking my tray and sloshing orange Fanta all over my meat loaf.

That could only be an improvement.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, throwing Stella a good scowl so she knows how unhappy I am about being forced into action.

I have my own reasons for doing this, but if doing this her way keeps her from suspecting my motives then I’ll go along. No point in antagonizing her when I just got her off my back.

“Something wrong?”Troy asks.

“No,” I assure him. “Just something I have to take care of.”

My stomach rolls as I approach them—I’m not sure if it’s because I’m nervous or repulsed about what I have to do. I glance quickly over my shoulder. Stella nods encouragingly. Nicole and Troy stare at me like I’ve lost my mind.

But sometimes a girl has to make the tough choices.

Deep down inside I know this is more than just a deal with Stella. In spite of all the warning signs that keep flashing GRIFFIN BLAKE IS A BAD IDEA, there is something about him that I can’t resist. Something I saw that first morning on the beach before he knew who I was. Something that even his sabotaging my tryout didn’t completely erase. The runner in me wants to believe that someone who loves the sport as much as he obviously does—who loves it as much as I do—has to have a pure heart in there somewhere. I can’t let go of that hope, so I have to go after it.

Sucking up all my courage, I reach out and tap Griffin on the shoulder. At this point I really have no idea what I intend to say, but just hope that something intelligible will come out of my mouth when the time comes.

Without releasing Adara from his embrace, Griffin turns to look over his shoulder.

Behind him I can see Adara glaring at me with deadly daggers in her vapid gray eyes. I think I’m probably lucky there aren’t real daggers slicing through me right now. Pissing her off is definitely a bonus.

The look Griffin gives me isn’t much more inviting.

“Well, nothos,” he snarls, “what do you want?”

Chapter 6

GRIFFIN’S FLAME-BLUE EYES glare a hole in me.

My knees go a little weak at being so close to him. No matter how many times I tell myself this one is a L-O-S-E-R, my heart still beats faster whenever I think of him. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my body—prepared to flee if the embarrassment meter reaches the warning zone.

“Um, I, uh . . .” Great start, Phoebe. Why don’t you just sink into a puddle at his feet? Then he can rinse off his shoes in your pathetic—

I lurch as I feel a sharp pinch in my butt. Spinning around, I see Stella and her friend laughing uproariously.

Grrr.

“Did you want something?” Adara asks, her voice dripping with disdain. “Or did you just want to stand close enough for us to see the pathetic look in your eyes?”

That does it! Suddenly, I know I am going to relish stealing Griffin away from her.

“Actually,” I focus my attention and my gaze on Griffin, batting my eyelashes at him like a flirting fan-girl. I tell myself Adara isn’t even there. “I wanted to ask for your help.”

Bat, bat, bat.

Biting my lip, I try for my most seductive girl pose.

Griffin snorts. “With what?”

“With the cross-country course,” I say as I step closer and increase my batting speed to mach two. “You must know all the bumps and . . .” I place my hands on my hips, tugging my T-shirt tighter across my chest in the process. “. . . curves.”

The corner of his kiss-begging mouth lifts up in a smirk. “Why would I want to help you?”

He talks tough, but his eyes never leave mine—like he’s really trying to figure out why I’m asking for his help.

Time to play my blackmail card. Stepping forward, I place my hands on his shoulder and lift up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, “Because you don’t want me to tell Coach Lenny about the shoelaces.”

I can hear his jaw grind in frustration.

Lowering back to my heels, I add, “But if you’re all talk about running, then I guess you can’t help me after all.”

With nerves of steel, I turn away. My heart is racing and I can’t feel my hands or my feet. But somehow, I start walking and keep moving forward. I take three steps before he calls out.

“Meet me at the starting line at noon on Sunday.” His voice is cocky—without turning around I can tell he’s acting like this is some big joke. “I’ll show you how to run the course.”

“See you there,” I say casually and then keep walking.

Stella, who has been watching the entire show, smiles and nods at me. I guess she approves of my first effort. Hopefully, that means I won’t have to worry about her zapping my food into something from the low rungs of the animal kingdom anytime soon.

But if she knew how much I am looking forward to the meeting with Griffin, she wouldn’t be smiling at all. Back at my lunch table, Troy is intently focused on his tapioca

pudding. Nicole is staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Have you lost your mind?” she demands. I shrug, too elated and terrified by the whole situation to even

answer. My mind races, imagining what I’ll say to Griffin on Sunday,

how I’ll act, what I’ll wear. This isn’t about Stella—this is about me. “Earth to Phoebe.” Nicole snaps her fingers in front of my face. “What?” I shake myself out of the daydream. “What were you thinking?” Her eyebrows jump up in disbelief.

“Griffin Blake is a centaur’s rear.” “I just . . .” I struggle to find something to say that won’t be a

total lie. Or the total truth. “. . . thought he could help me out.” Nicole flings her fork down on her plate. “You’re crazy.” Maybe . . . but I can’t keep the smile off my face. Troy, who hasn’t said a word since I got back to the table, stands

up and grabs his tray. “Maybe Blake can take you to the bonfire.” Before I can answer he turns and walks away. He sounded really upset. I watch him walk over to the conveyor belt, toss down his tray,

and leave the room. Without once looking back at our table. “What was that about?” I ask. Nicole stares at me. “Are you that dense?” “What?” I look at her, confused. She shakes her head. “No wonder you made a fool of yourself

over that ass. You’re clueless when it comes to boys.” She spears a bite of meat loaf with her fork. I think she is actually going to eat some of the questionable stuff, but instead she flicks it up in the air. The meat blob sticks to the ceiling for a few seconds before plopping back down on our table.

“Did you really not know what was about to happen?” she demands.

I can tell she expects me to know what she’s talking about—other than she thinks I should stay far away from Griffin, but I already know that and it doesn’t make a difference. “I don’t know—”

“Troy was going to ask you to the bonfire.”

I can almost hear the unspoken stupid at the end of her statement. Yes, I knew Troy was going to ask me. And I was even going to agree.

“We can all go together,” I offer. “As friends.”

“You could do worse than liking Troy, you know.” She glances back to the golden couple, who are continuing their bid for the PDA record. “Wait—you already have.”

I sigh, because she’s right. After everything I went through with Justin, I know how much it hurts when bad crushes happen to good people. But no matter how many times I tell myself he’s pure bad news I just can’t get my mind off Griffin. I am living proof that crushes are blind, deaf, and dumb.

“I know,” I say. “But I can’t—”

I shake my head.

I’m afraid of blowing my friendship with her—and with Troy—all because I can’t control my stupid crush on Griffin. There, I’ve said it. I have a crush on Griffin Blake.

Okay, I didn’t really say it—I thought it.

Admitting there’s a problem is the first step to recovery, right?

“I understand,” Nicole says, her voice full of sympathy. “You can’t always choose who you fall for.”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t worry.” She sounds upbeat and I’m relieved that she’s not casting me away just because my heart has bad taste. “Eventually he’ll break your heart and maybe Troy and I will be there to glue the pieces back together.”

That’s a cheerful thought.

“I hope you won’t have to.” I smile. Nicole is a true friend—which makes me think of Cesca and Nola. They would love Nicole. Cesca would love her willingness to say what she’s really thinking and Nola would appreciate how she is an individual and doesn’t care what others think of her. We would make a great foursome. Maybe one day we can all hang out together.

“So, I can’t talk you out of this?”

I shake my head. Time for full disclosure. “There’s more to this than a, um, crush.”

She lifts her eyebrows.

“I made a bargain with Stella.”

She doesn’t say anything, just keeps looking at me expectantly.

“She’s offered to tutor me in Modern Greek and to help convince her dad not to keep me here for another year.”

“In exchange for what, your firstborn child?”

“In exchange for splitting up Griffin and Adara.”

Another low whistle. “You made a deal with Hades, you know.”

“Yeah,” I say, defeated. “I know.”

“Cheer up,” she says as she stacks our trays of untouched—except for the blob she flung at the ceiling—meat loaf, “I’m going to help

you in this idiotic quest for Blake.”

“Really?” I ask, suspicious of her sudden turnaround. “Why?”

“Because I think this bargain is just your excuse.” She grins wickedly. “You want him, and the sooner you catch him the sooner he’ll break your heart. And the sooner you can recover. I’d hate for you to spend the entire year pining over him.” She picks up our trays. “He’s so not worth it. And if you break his heart instead, so much the better.”

I have a feeling that Nicole has her own motives, but I just ask, “When do we start?”

“Tonight,” she says decisively. “We’ll launch Operation Anteros at the bonfire.”

“Anteros?”

“The god of avenging unrequited love.” Nicole flashes me a devious smile. “Blake doesn’t stand a chance.”

I float all the way to Physics, daydreaming about the romantic bonfire and how Nicole is going to help me catch Griffin Blake so I can get him out of my system. Something in the back corner of my mind screams that I don’t want to get over him, but I ignore it.

Evening is cool on the beach, but the sun-warmed sand and the roaring bonfire more than keep me warm. The water of the Aegean stretches out before me as far as I can see, until it disappears into the setting sun. An inky blue sea with crimson reflecting on every ripple. I can imagine those thousand ships setting sail, gliding silently over the waves to rescue Helen from Troy—whether she

wanted to be rescued or not.

“The island is pretty romantic at night,” Troy says from behind me.

I turn, surprised to see him after he stormed off at lunch— not that I blame him considering the fool I made of myself over Griffin. Only a great miracle of willpower kept me from losing my own lunch.

“Yeah,” I say brilliantly. “It’s beautiful.”

Boy is it.

Nicole and I had gotten to the beach just before sunset, so I am watching the sun turn the Aegean into a sea of flames. Everything glows in a million shades of orange. Even the village buildings— walls of the same white plaster as Damian’s house—perched on the cliffs above the water reflect the warm light, turning them a pinkish shade of peach. It’s breathtaking.

For a few seconds I am even thankful to be on this stupid island, just so I could watch this sunset.

“They say that Leda, a handmaiden of Helios who was in love with the sun god, built this island by hand,” he explains. “She carried soil from Serifos one fistful at a time.”

“Why?” I ask, wondering what would possess someone to undertake such an overwhelming task.

“Each night, when Helios drove his chariot below the horizon, she wept for the loss of him.” Troy’s voice is soft and hypnotizing. “She built this island so she could watch him until the last ray of his light disappeared from view.”

“Wow.” That’s devotion. And one of the most romantic things I’ve ever heard. I turn away from the waning sunset to look up at Troy. “So the island was built for watching the sun set?”

He shrugs. “It’s just a fairy tale. A bedtime story men made up to tell around the fire at night.”

From the far-off look in his eyes—which are not looking at me—I can tell he’s still hurt.

“Until a few days ago,” I return, “I thought you were a fairy tale.”

“There’s a difference. Myths and fairy tales aren’t the same thing.”

“Then explain it to me.”

Still gazing at the water, he says, “A myth is a tradition, a legend created to explain the unexplainable. The gods are unexplainable, hence they are myth.”

“And fairy tales?”

I watch his face closely, looking for a reaction. Finally, after several long seconds, he turns to look down at me. He meets my gaze head on, concentrating like he’s trying to figure me out. Good luck with that. Eventually his features relax and he smiles a little.

“A fairy tale,” he says, “is a story we wish were true.”

I smile in relief. Whatever Troy and I are destined to become, I know we’re friends. And I’m glad my stupid deal with Stella hasn’t come between that.

Which reminds me . . . “There’s something I need to tell you.”

His eyebrows lift.

I stand up so I can tell him eye-to-eye.

“It’s about me and the evil stepsister.”

“I’m listening,” he says.

It’s better he knows what’s going on so next time I make a fool of myself with Griffin he doesn’t jump to any crazy conclusions. The reality of the situation is bad enough.

“What happened in the lunch room today wasn’t about me wanting Griffin.” At least, not just about me wanting Griffin. “Stella and I made a deal.”

He looks skeptical. “About what?”

“If I break up Griffin and Adara she’ll tutor me in Modern Greek—”

“I could help you with Modern Greek.”

Why hadn’t I thought of that? “That’s not the only thing. If I do this she’ll help convince her dad that I don’t need to stay on for Level 13.”

“And if you don’t?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“She’ll convince him that I do.”

He scowls. “Why that conniving, blackmailing—”

“I know . . . but I agreed.”

“So,” he says slowly, “you want to get off this island so bad you’re willing to make a deal with the gorgon?”

“Yes.” He sounds so sad that I feel kinda guilty. But undeterred. “I just wanted you to know, so you would understand, because I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

I place a little extra emphasis on the word friendship, trying to make him see that that’s how I think of him. As a friend.

From the look in his eyes, he knows exactly what I’m saying.

“All right.” He smiles, like he’s trying to show that he’s fine with that. “If that’s what you really want I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

I tug my zip-front sweatshirt tighter around my waist. The sun is gone now, and the beach is downright chilly. Maybe all that cool air blowing off the water.

“Thank—”

“Well, well, well,” a whiny voice I’m starting to get sick of says, “look who showed up at the bonfire uninvited.”

Flanked by two other cheerleaders, Adara is wearing a white crocheted bikini top and a pair of white cutoff jeans shorts. I’m shivering in my jeans and sweatshirt—she must be freezing.

The thought makes me smile.

“Hi, Adara,” I say with sugary sweetness. “I love your swimsuit.”

She scowls, but can’t resist the compliment. “Thanks—”

“Of course, I loved it when everyone in L.A. was wearing them last summer.” I turn to Troy and whisper dramatically, loud enough for everyone to hear, “It’s so last season.”

Adara’s mouth drops open. “Listen, kako. Tonight is for descendants only—no godly blood, no bonfire. Leave now before you embarrass yourself.”

“Leave off, Adara,” Troy says. “She’s with me.”

“Really?” she coos. “She was panting over my boyfriend at lunch today. Are your attachments always so fleeting, kako?”

Troy lunges forward, but I grab his shoulders and hold him back. He gives me a look that says he’s clearly willing to throw down with Adara for me. I shake my head.