Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

In all my years of running I’ve never cheated. When other racers
were trying anabolic steroids, synthetic hormones, and amphet-
amines I just trained harder. I focused on perfecting my technique,
improving my endurance, and obsessing about my nutrition.
Now, after all those years of hard work and integrity, in just one
race on this island, I’m a cheater. Someone—and I have a pretty
good idea who that powers-charmed-bracelet-giving someone is—
used godly powers to help me win. I won a race that I didn’t deserve
to win.
Winning by cheating isn’t winning at all.
“I didn’t cheat,” I say, barely keeping my volume under control
because I am so irritated that he keeps playing dumb, “but it feels
like I did. When you gave me your powers, I—”
“Whoa!” He jumps back, waving his hands in front of his chest
defensively. “When I gave you my powers? I couldn’t even do that if
I wanted to.”
Holding up my hand, I pluck at the friendship bracelet. “Then
what do you call this?”
“A friendship bracelet.”
“Ha,” I snort.
“We can’t just give our powers to someone else.” He steps closer,
his voice calm and certain. “Besides the fact that it would probably
kill the person on the receiving end, your stepdad would expel me
in a heartbeat. I like you a lot Phoebe, but I’m not about to throw
away my future for anyone.”
“If you’re just going to lie to me, then I’d like you to leave.” I turn
my back to him and head down the steps.
He doesn’t say a word, so I think he’s gone.
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