Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

“Oh, and Blake,” Coach Z says. “Switch places with Spencer.”
Stomping across the weight room, Adara takes her place with
Vesna—who is now bench-pressing a small car. I walk slowly to
the biceps curls station and pick up a pair of dumbbells. Without
saying a word, Griffin takes his place at my side, holding his hand
beneath mine to spot my movement.
He doesn’t say a single word to me the entire workout, and by
the time practice is over I’m more confused than ever.
“This Plato is kicking my ass,” I grumble, staring blankly at the
pages full of philosophical words.
Mr. Dorcas wants us to read The Republic and write a ten-page
response paper when I don’t even understand what the book is
about. Like I don’t have enough going on in my life.
“You’ll get through it,” Nicole promises.
“I’m not so sure.” I flip the book over to the back cover—something
I can actually understand—and read the two sentence bio on
Plato. “Too bad he died twenty-three hundred years ago.”
She laughs, then goes back to reading.
“You’ve got powers, Nic.” I sigh, slamming the book down on
our table. “Can’t you summon him back to life so I can ask him to
clarify?”
“We can’t bring people back from the dead,” she says. “Big no-no.
In the sixties someone tried to bring back Clytemnestra to star in
the school’s production of Agamemnon. Everyone in the cast aged
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