Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly
Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly
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. 129
- Page 85 and 86: I cheer, too. After all the embarra
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- Page 113 and 114: Coach Lenny starts scribbling on th
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- Page 119 and 120: “You will if you want to get back
- Page 121 and 122: “Mmnff,” I grumble and settle b
- Page 123 and 124: “You can’t run and do schoolwor
- Page 125 and 126: What can I say about Griffin Blake?
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- Page 129 and 130: can do. But—and this is a big but
- Page 131 and 132: “That’s ridiculous,” Troy say
- Page 133 and 134: gesturing at the airplane and indic
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- Page 141 and 142: for the blob she flung at the ceili
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- Page 147 and 148: Everyone turns to stare at her as s
- Page 149 and 150: you’ll find a way.” I lay a rea
- Page 151 and 152: proving. He points at me. The sand
- Page 153 and 154: Who wouldn’t stare at a girl on h
- Page 155 and 156: paper bag in his left hand. My hear
- Page 157 and 158: comfy gray sweats. I feel practical
- Page 159 and 160: accept responsibility for his actio
- Page 161 and 162: “Right,” he says, his eyes snap
- Page 163 and 164: “No, really, that’s not nec—
- Page 165 and 166: He nods once. “How many of you ar
- Page 167 and 168: I was taunting him in the qualifyin
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- Page 171 and 172: LostPhoebe: just some junk about sc
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- Page 175 and 176: LostPhoebe: um, not anymore Princes
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- Page 179 and 180: friendly advice when suddenly her a
- Page 181 and 182: fifty years in a day.” Then, purs
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- Page 185 and 186: he said, We can easily forgive a ch
Bat, bat, bat.<br />
Biting my lip, I try for my most seductive girl pose.<br />
Griffin snorts. “With what?”<br />
“With the cross-country course,” I say as I step closer and increase<br />
my batting speed to mach two. “You must know all the bumps<br />
and . . .” I place my hands on my hips, tugging my T-shirt tighter<br />
across my chest in the process. “. . . curves.”<br />
The corner of his kiss-begging mouth lifts up in a smirk. “Why<br />
would I want to help you?”<br />
He talks tough, but his eyes never leave mine—like he’s really<br />
trying to figure out why I’m asking for his help.<br />
Time to play my blackmail card. Stepping forward, I place my hands<br />
on his shoulder and lift up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, “Because<br />
you don’t want me to tell Coach Lenny about the shoelaces.”<br />
I can hear his jaw grind in frustration.<br />
Lowering back to my heels, I add, “But if you’re all talk about<br />
running, then I guess you can’t help me after all.”<br />
With nerves of steel, I turn away. <strong>My</strong> heart is racing and I can’t<br />
feel my hands or my feet. But somehow, I start walking and keep<br />
moving forward. I take three steps before he calls out.<br />
“Meet me at the starting line at noon on Sunday.” His voice is<br />
cocky—without turning around I can tell he’s acting like this is<br />
some big joke. “I’ll show you how to run the course.”<br />
“See you there,” I say casually and then keep walking.<br />
Stella, who has been watching the entire show, smiles and nods<br />
at me. I guess she approves of my first effort. Hopefully, that means<br />
I won’t have to worry about her zapping my food into something<br />
from the low rungs of the animal kingdom anytime soon.<br />
129