Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

know Nola and Cesca from anyone, but he trusts me enough to
trust them.
“Thanks,” I say. Then, I can’t help it, I fling my arms around him
and give him a big hug.
“You are more than welcome,” he says in his typical, formal voice.
But there is a warmth in there that I never noticed before.
I can’t believe he’s really letting me tell Nola and Cesca about the
school, the island, everything.
Now, all I have to do is figure out how to tell them.
“First, however,” he says in full on principal mode, “we need to
have a discussion.”
Right. I knew this trust thing was too good to be true. My shoulders
slump. I glance ahead at Mom and the girls who are getting
ahead of us.
“Phoebe,” he says, laying a hand on my shoulder, “this has nothing
to do with your friends.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised. “All right.”
“Why don’t we go to the school and your friends can look around
while we talk?”
I nod, sensing that what he wants to tell me is a pretty big deal.
Considering all the major life-flipping news I’ve gotten lately, I’m a
little nervous about what more he could possibly have to talk to me
about. Maybe he knows that Troy cheated to help me win.
“Hey girls,” I shout, running to catch up with them. “Wanna see
my new school?”
We detour across the central lawn toward the front steps.
“Pacific Park hasn’t been the same without you,” Cesca says.
“Did she tell you what she did to Justin?” Nola asks.
237