Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly
Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly
Euphoria sets in—along with a whole boatload of endorphins. I can’t remember why I was even thinking about giving it up. Maybe that is insanity. Everyone has to find their version of therapy. Running is mine. I wonder what Troy’s is? “Don’t you have something that you just have to do, even though every time you do it you tell yourself you’re crazy to even try? But if you don’t do it you feel even crazier?” He keeps staring at the water. He’s silent so long I think he’s not going to answer. I drop my head back and close my eyes. “Music,” he finally says. I lift back up on my elbows. “Music?” “Whenever I play the guitar I feel like it’s a colossal waste of time, but I can’t stop playing.” His voice is almost reverent. “I want to be a musician.” “That’s great,” I say. He snorts. “Try telling my parents that.” “The Travatas clan takes their heritage seriously.” Nicole exerts enough energy to roll onto her side. “They believe all descendants of Asklepios should pursue the medical profession.” “So because your great-great-something was into medicine they want you to be a doctor, too?” I ask. “A neurosurgeon.” He laughs. “I couldn’t even stand to dissect an earthworm in Level 4. How could I cut open a human skull?” Ew. I shudder, but keep my disgust to myself. This is about Troy and his passions. “If you want to be a musician—if you can’t be anything else—then 140
you’ll find a way.” I lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “True call- ings aren’t easy to hide from.” He covers my hand with his own. “Thanks.” “If you two are done with the Hallmark moment, I’d like to watch the fireworks in peace.” I glance up at the empty, silent sky. “What fireworks?” “Just wait.” Troy checks his watch. “In five, four, three, two, one—” The sky above us explodes in a shimmering burst of color. Red, blue, and green embers flicker through the darkness, raining down around us. Another big sphere of golden sparkles bursts into the sky. “I didn’t even hear the launch,” I remark. “Honey, we don’t need to bother with messy explosives,” Nicole replies. “All it takes is a little focus and a snap of my fingers.” She snaps her fingers and a little blue spark shoots through the air, landing on Troy’s Green Day T-shirt. He quickly pats at the spot where the ember hit—a spot that starts smoking and leaves a little hole above the G. “Hey,” he exclaims. “Watch where you throw the fireworks, Nic.” I laugh out loud at the thought of Troy going up in flames from a single spark. Nicole just shrugs and says, “Sorry. Haven’t honed my fireworks skills recently.” “Well don’t test them on my clothing.” I settle back into the blanket, feeling the warm sand crunch beneath the blanket, and watch the fireworks while listening to my two friends bickering. It’s almost like being home. If not for 141
- Page 97 and 98: “Everyone, may I have your attent
- Page 99 and 100: “Damian told me the cross-country
- Page 101 and 102: “Of course,” she says with that
- Page 103 and 104: eight homework problems are going t
- Page 105 and 106: He points to the chair in front of
- Page 107 and 108: “Son of a—” “Something wron
- Page 109 and 110: TrojanTiger: just wanted to check i
- Page 111 and 112: To my total shock, Damian laughs ou
- Page 113 and 114: Coach Lenny starts scribbling on th
- Page 115 and 116: I gasp. At first I think she must n
- Page 117 and 118: perate. She pauses in the doorway,
- 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?
- Page 127 and 128: I sign off, sad to be so far away f
- 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
- Page 135 and 136: much as I do—has to have a pure h
- Page 137 and 138: Bat, bat, bat. Biting my lip, I try
- Page 139 and 140: going to eat some of the questionab
- Page 141 and 142: for the blob she flung at the ceili
- Page 143 and 144: I’ve ever heard. I turn away from
- Page 145 and 146: “Thank—” “Well, well, well,
- Page 147: Everyone turns to stare at her as s
- 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
- Page 169 and 170: Oh. My. God. I totally forgot the s
- Page 171 and 172: LostPhoebe: just some junk about sc
- Page 173 and 174: NaughtyNic: did she freak out? Lost
- Page 175 and 176: LostPhoebe: um, not anymore Princes
- Page 177 and 178: While everyone moves to a machine,
- Page 179 and 180: friendly advice when suddenly her a
- Page 181 and 182: fifty years in a day.” Then, purs
- Page 183 and 184: though I didn’t mean to do it, it
- Page 185 and 186: he said, We can easily forgive a ch
- Page 187 and 188: Somehow that’s more appropriate f
- Page 189 and 190: teau and any day now I’m going to
- Page 191 and 192: From the corner of my eye I see the
- Page 193 and 194: Griffin adds, “I’ll make sure s
- Page 195 and 196: “Fine.” I turn off the track, h
- Page 197 and 198: “Oh really?” I ask, trying for
Euphoria sets in—along with a whole boatload of endorphins. I<br />
can’t remember why I was even thinking about giving it up.<br />
Maybe that is insanity.<br />
Everyone has to find their version of therapy. Running is mine.<br />
I wonder what Troy’s is?<br />
“Don’t you have something that you just have to do, even though<br />
every time you do it you tell yourself you’re crazy to even try? But if<br />
you don’t do it you feel even crazier?”<br />
He keeps staring at the water. He’s silent so long I think he’s not<br />
going to answer. I drop my head back and close my eyes.<br />
“Music,” he finally says.<br />
I lift back up on my elbows. “Music?”<br />
“Whenever I play the guitar I feel like it’s a colossal waste of time,<br />
but I can’t stop playing.” His voice is almost reverent. “I want to be<br />
a musician.”<br />
“That’s great,” I say.<br />
He snorts. “Try telling my parents that.”<br />
“The Travatas clan takes their heritage seriously.” Nicole exerts<br />
enough energy to roll onto her side. “They believe all descendants<br />
of Asklepios should pursue the medical profession.”<br />
“So because your great-great-something was into medicine they<br />
want you to be a doctor, too?” I ask.<br />
“A neurosurgeon.” He laughs. “I couldn’t even stand to dissect<br />
an earthworm in Level 4. How could I cut open a human skull?”<br />
Ew. I shudder, but keep my disgust to myself. This is about Troy<br />
and his passions.<br />
“If you want to be a musician—if you can’t be anything else—then<br />
140
Change language