Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

the nose. And ouch, does it hurt. That shakes me out of it and I bolt
up, ignoring the tingling dizziness in my brain.
“I’m fine, really.” I bat away a few of the bright yellow bugs
swarming around my head before I realize these are only in my
mind. Knowing Mom and Damian and the gurney-pushing warrior
princess would have a field day with this, I close my eyes and take
three deep breaths before saying, “I don’t need a gurney, you can
call Xena off.”
“Who?” Mom asks, clearly not up on her TV culture.
“Not Xena,” Damian explains. “Zenos. Our yacht captain.”
Somehow, it is only a minor relief to find out that he knows
some fictional characters are actually not real.
“Sorry,” I say. “My bad.” For the time being, I think it’s better
to just play along. I can talk some sense into Mom later—when
we’re alone. “I’ve got it now.” I open my eyes, relatively certain I can
maintain consciousness for the moment. “Xena, not real. Zeus, real.
Check.”
Mom and Damian exchange one of those I-don’t-think-the-poorchild-is-buying-it
looks. They’re not far off. Who can blame me,
what with the idea that the Greek gods really exist still ricocheting
through my brain? I deserve at least a little wiggle room when it
comes to confusing reality with fiction. Maybe if I approach it with
a little scientific logic, Mom will see how crazy all of this is.
“So, what does this mean?” I ask, rubbing my temple to make it
look like I’m really considering believing all this. “Are the students
all immortal?”
“No, no, of course not. Immortality is reserved for the gods,” he
says with a little laugh. As if that’s the most absurd idea floating
32