Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

the whole supernatural-descendants-of-the-gods thing and being
thousands of miles away from everything I’ve ever called home, this
island could be bearable.
Almost cool, even.
A sudden outburst sounds down the beach. With lazy heaviness,
I loll my head to the side. Griffin and a bunch of other tricksters—
armed with a water balloon in each hand—are chasing after Adara
and her cheerleader groupies. I recognize a couple of the long
distance guys, Christopher and Costas. Christopher is super tall,
blond, and actually very sweet—he volunteered to be my training
partner at practice when no one else would. Costas, on the other
hand, is like a shorter version of Griffin.
While I watch, the boys get the girls surrounded and hold the
water balloons menacingly over their heads.
Did I say this island was almost cool? I meant juvenile.
I guess boys are the same everywhere—godly or not.
“Are you sure you want to get in the middle of that?” Nicole asks,
drawing my attention away from the chase scene.
“Yeah,” I reply, reluctant. “I haven’t got a—”
“Aaack!” Adara’s scream pierces the air as Griffin and Costas trap
her between them and pummel her with water balloons.
Now she’s cold and wet. I don’t envy her.
“—choice,” I finish.
“All right.” Nicole cocks her eyebrows. “But don’t say we didn’t
warn you.”
“Consider me warned.”
Just then, Griffin—still shaking with laughter at his water balloon
strike—looks our way. His eyes stop on me, intense and disap-
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