Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

“Phoebe,” she says, pointing her fork at cute boy, “this is Troy.”
“Hi.” I wave in greeting.
He smiles, showing straight white teeth and says, “Hi back.”
“He’s pretty much the only person in this school worth knowing.”
She starts to take a sip of her Dr Pepper, but then adds, “Besides
me, of course.”
Nicole is not short on confidence.
“Has Nicole been showing you around?” he asks, his mouth curling
up at the corners.
“Yeah.” I nod.
Nicole is way better as a guide than Stella would have been. I can
just imagine my day as Stella’s puppy dog, forced to trail after her
and lick her boots when she got a scuff.
Even across the crowded dining hall, I can feel her glare.
She is at a table at the opposite side of the hall—far, far away
from ours—sitting with the rest of the Zeus-and-Heras. She’s sitting
next to a boy with short, rusty blond hair who, from the confident
way he is holding himself, is the leader of their pack. Tan, slick, and
arrogant, he looks like her perfect match.
Troy must see me staring at her because he says, “I hear Stella’s
your stepsister.” He takes and swallows a bite of vegetable lasagna.
“Sorry.”
What, did they have a school-wide briefing about me? It seems
like everyone knows who I am, where I came from, and how I got
here. Right now, about half the cafeteria is looking at me while trying
not to look like they’re looking. I’m like a celebrity, but not in
a good way.
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