Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

Seeing all the cliques grouped according to ancestral god makes
me wonder about Nicole. Seems like she doesn’t hang out with any-
one but herself—and now me. But she’s part immortal, too.
“So, which god are you—”
She suddenly jerks me across the hall toward an open door,
almost sending me sprawling on the floor.
“What the—”
“The Hades harem,” she explains. “You do not want to mess with
them.”
And, peeking back out the doorway, boy can I see why.
The group just rounding the corner look like your average
Goths—black hair, black clothes, black eyeliner—but with an edge.
Pretty fitting for the god of the underworld’s descendants.
Shoulder-to-shoulder, they stride down the hall, daring anyone
to get in their way. The Zeus set stares them down, but most of the
other students in the hall scamper out of their path. As they pass
the doorway, a tall, thin girl with pale skin, shoulder-length black
hair, and piercing pale blue eyes, stares at me with intimidating
intensity. I know I must be a novelty and all, but she really doesn’t
need to look like she wants to melt me with her eyes.
“Who is that?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
“That,” she says, grabbing my shoulder and dragging me into the
classroom, “is Kassandra. Trouble on a cosmic scale.”
I don’t need her warning to know that.
“This is Cornball’s class,” she says, flopping into a desk in the
last row. “Make it through this and it’s all downhill until lunch.”
“Great,” I say, dragging my fascinated thoughts back from Kas-
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