Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

Nicole points at Troy. “Travatas is around fifty generations
removed from Asklepios.”
“Who’s Askilopus?” I ask.
“Asklepios,” Troy corrects. “The god of healing.”
“That’s neat,” I say.
“Right.” Troy rolls his eyes. “I’m just dying to follow in that
millennium-long line of doctors and nurses.”
Talk about pressure. I guess maybe that’s not so great, after all.
Turning back to Nicole, who is looking around the room again, I
ask, “What about you—”
“That’s the Athena table,” she announces. “They’re all brainiacs,
like Tyrovolas.”
Troy leans closer and whispers, “Nerds.”
Like I couldn’t tell. As if the thick glasses and pocket protectors
weren’t clues enough, they’re huddled around the table and bickering
over trading cards. The cards flash and sparkle with every movement.
I have a feeling these aren’t your typical Pokémon.
“Those girls.” Troy nudges me, pointing to a bunch of blondes
standing near the door. “They’re the cheerleaders.”
Where does this guy think I’m from? Siberia? Southern California
is the cheerleader capital of the world—well, second maybe to
Texas—and I have no problem identifying them. The blue and white
uniforms are a dead giveaway. Even in street clothes, the matching
hair ribbons mark them as the cheer squad.
But, Troy is cute and I don’t want to make any enemies on the
first day—Stella is already enemy enough—so I just ask, “Whose are
they?”
71