Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

coveted trophy at their school for the next year.” Coach Z gives us
all a stern scowl. “The losers get nothing but dust in their teeth.”
This is apparently the big pep speech for the meet.
I’ve heard so many of these in my lifetime I just tune out.
Instead, I glance over the crowd of teammates listening avidly
to Coach Z’s threats and promises. Adara and her blondes, Zoe
included, are right up front, watching Coach Z with rapt attention.
There must be some sort of gender war going on because there’s
not a single guy sitting with them. My gaze flicks briefly to Griffin,
surrounded by Christopher, Costas, and the rest of the Ares jockheads.
He looks up, like he feels my eyes on him, and I immediately
look the other way.
Eye contact is too much contact as far as I’m concerned.
He doesn’t take the hint.
No, he stands up, weaves his way through the crowd while Coach
Z is still speaking, and sits down next to me on the grass.
“Phoebe, I—”
I get up and move away.
He follows me.
“We haven’t seen the trophy at this school in five years,” Coach
Z says, scowling at Griffin’s disregard. “I want that trophy back in
our front hall this year.”
Everyone cheers.
I keep evading Griffin, who is shadowing my every step.
“Now break up into your events and get in a good practice,”
Coach Z says, dismissing the group to our individual coaches.
I head for Coach Lenny, hoping our workouts will separate us.
“Today we’ll be working out in pairs,” Coach Lenny explains. “I
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