Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

“What rules?” I stare at him, furious that they’re saying all this
stuff about my dad. “What are you talking about?”
“The primary rule among descendants choosing to live in the
nothos world is they may not use their powers overtly to succeed in
that world. The risk of exposure is too great.” Damian’s face is full
of sympathy. “Your father used his powers to further his football
career. On national television. He knew he would be punished.”
None of this makes sense.
Dad was part god?
I’m part god?
Dad died for football?
“Oh honey,” Mom soothes, squeezing me tightly. “As soon as
Damian told me I knew you’d be upset. Hell, I was upset. The fact
that your father never—”
“Did you just swear?” I asked between threatening tears.
“Did I?” she repeated. “I suppose so. I’m just so mad that in all
the years we were married, you father kept this secret from me. That
he kept it from you.”
“Wait?” I interrupt. “When Damian told you?” This is déjà vu all
over again. “How long have you known?”
I’m having flashbacks to the whole you’re-going-to-a-schoolfor-the-relatives-of-Greek-gods
thing. A sharp pain starts at the
base of my skull and slowly spreads across my entire head. Why
do people keep withholding major details of my life from me? Do
I seem incapable of handling astonishing news? I would think that
by now I’ve proven myself pretty rational in the face of unbelievable
information.
I glare at Mom, daring her to lie to me.
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