Tera Childs - Oh. My. Gods.

Who is he to tell me what I can and can’t do? He doesn’t know me. Cute boy or not, I can beat his tail.

“I’m keeping up with you,” I snap.

“Only because I’m letting you.”

His expression doesn’t change and he doesn’t look away from the course, but I can tell he’s laughing at me. I really can’t stand it when people laugh at me.

I feel a little surge of extra energy-adrenaline-and pick up my pace.

“When the race is over,” I say, letting his taunts get the better of me, “you can let me know how it feels to be beat by a nothos.”

That hits home. His anger doesn’t show on his face, but his hands ball into fists and his movement becomes a little tighter.

“That,” he says through clearly clenched teeth, “will never happen.”

What happened to the super sweet guy I met on the beach? This is more like the guy Nicole warned me about. “Were you possessed by the Furies after we met this morning? Or did I just catch you off guard before you’d had your jerk juice?”

“This morning,” he snaps, “I didn’t know who you were.”

“Oh,” I say, “you’re only nice to strangers. Now that we’re acquainted you have to be rude. Got it.”

“If I were being rude,” he said, his voice cold and hard, “youwould know it. I’m only amusing myself to pass the time. In about half a kilometer you’ll be in my dust.”

Well, I didn’t get to be Western Regional Champion-twicewithout learning how to ignore head games. Cross-country is full of trash talk, but it’s only effective if you let it get to you.

“Whatever.” I shrug, “We’ll see at the finish line.”

Looking ahead, I realize we have dropped back a little from the main group. I can’t let him get me off my race. I count to three before kicking up my pace another notch. Already I can feel myself closing the gap.

“Never,” Griffin says as he speeds up, “mess with a descendant of Ares, nothos.”

Then, before I can reply, a flash of light glows at my feet and the next thing I know I’m tumbling headfirst into the packed dirt path.

Griffin and the other runners disappear around a bend in the course and all I’m left with is a thin cloud of dust. Jumping to my feet, I look down to find my shoelaces untied, or, more accurately, untied and retied together.

Stepping out of my shoes rather than bother untying the supernatural knot-which is probably impossible to undo, anyway-I turn and start the long trudge back to the starting line.

WHEN COACH LENNY crosses the finish line, I am sitting in the dirt, trying to unknot my sneakers without success. After trying to unravel the knot for nearly half an hour, it hasn’t budged a millimeter. Either I’m going to have to cut the laces or buy new Nikes.

“What happened?” he asks, slowing to a stop at my shoeless feet.

I shrug. “I tripped.”

“Tripped?” he asks between panting breaths. He starts pacing around me in little circles. “So you just give up?”

“What do you want me to do?” I shout, flinging my hopelessly joined sneakers into the woods. “I’m just a plain old, non-godrelated person. I can’t keep up.”

Even if I could, no one would let me. Except for my mom-and maybe Damian-nobody wants me on this stupid island. I wish I could go home. Only I don’t have a home to go home to. At this point, a year with Yia Yia Minta-with her stinky goat cheese, chain smoking, and spitting on everything for good luck-would be a blessing.

Coach Lenny squats in front of me. He stares into my eyes, like he’s trying to see all the way into my brain. Heck, he’s part-god.

Maybe he can.

The sounds of footsteps and heavy breathing coming from the course indicate the first group of racers. Griffin, of course, is in the lead. I wonder if he cheated against everybody else, too.

Coach Lenny looks from me to Griffin and back again. His lips firm into a tight line. I can see the muscles in his jaw clenching.

“Did he use his powers against you?” Coach Lenny pronounces every word very carefully. He sounds really angry.

Griffin, walking around the starting area with his hands on his waist, looks at me like a puppy caught peeing on the rug. Nicole and Troy said the whole powers thing is strictly controlled and that using them against someone else is a big no-no. Like when Stella zapped my backpack.

I bet sabotaging my race is worth more than a week of grounded powers.

His fate is in my hands.

I smile at Griffin, majorly satisfied to see his ears turn red. I don’t know if he’s embarrassed for being such a jerk or afraid that I’m going to rat on him, but I like both options equally.

Either I turn him in and get revenge for his jerkiness this afternoon, or I cover for him and then he owes me one. Big time.

“Oh no,” I say with a wide, innocent grin, batting my eyelashes for effect, “Griffin would never do something so underhanded, would he?”

I’m not fully sure why I don’t squeal. Maybe I like the idea of being one up on him. Or maybe I think the whole thing isn’t worth the trouble. Or maybe-and this is a terrifying possibility after what he’s done to me-I still want him to like me.

Or at least the him that I met that morning on the beach.

The him he’s showing this afternoon can go take a leap.

Griffin exhales loud enough for me to hear, like he’s beyond relieved that I didn’t rat on him.

A few more runners cross the finish line. Griffin congratulates them as they arrive, and then they pat him on the back for coming in first. They might dismiss his red cheeks and ears as a result of running, but I know he’s embarrassed. He knows he won unfairly.

Coach Lenny eyes me suspiciously. I’m a horrible liar and he can probably tell I am covering for Griffin. But he apparently decides to let this one slide and walks away.

Now it sinks in that I am going to have to walk all the way back to Damian’s house-across the whole campus and a very rocky hillside-in my socks.

I glare at Griffin, bent over the water fountain and showing off his cute butt-I mean his rotten backside. Well, I am not going into the woods sock-footed after a pair of shoes when it’s his fault I threw them in there.

Jumping to my feet, I stomp across the starting area as best as I can without shoes and tap him on the shoulder.

“Get my shoes back,” I demand.

He jerks up and spins around, like he’s shocked that I have the nerve to talk to him. “Excuse me?” he asks, like I’m the one being rude.

Only I can’t really remember what I was asking him because his lips are all glossy and wet from the drinking fountain.

“I, um…” I swallow hard, hoping that will clear my brain. “Shoes.

They’re… in the woods.”

I wave my hand back over my shoulder in the general direction that my shoes had gone. Then, while my eyes are locked on his lips, his tongue darts out to catch an extra drop of water at the corner of his mouth. I sort of shudder all over and I think it’s with only the biggest display of willpower that I don’t whimper.

His mouth kicks up at one side in that cocky grin.

Like he knows just what kind of thoughts I’m having.

That shakes me out of it.

I drag my eyes away from his lips and focus on his eyes-his bright blue, hypnotic…

“My shoes,” I say as forcefully as possible. “I tossed them in the woods. Get them back.”

“Why would you throw your-”

“Because I couldn’t get them unknotted, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” he mouths, scowling. As if he hadn’t realized I couldn’t untie his supernatural knot.

Then, before I can blink, he holds out his hand to the woods and then my shoes are there-laces unknotted and tied into neat little bows. He holds them out to me and, as soon as I take them, turns and walks away.

I stare after him, confused.

I feel like I’ve missed something again, like I should thank him for undoing the rotten thing he did in the first place. Like he’s pushing me away and pulling me in at the same time.

And I thought girls were supposed to be the complicated ones.

Forcing myself to forget Griffin and his contradictions, I slip back into my shoes and start for Damian’s house. No point hanging around to hear I didn’t make the team. Great! There goes USC.

There goes the one thing I could count on to keep me going on this stupid island. There goes my life for the next year-and beyond.

“Wait a minute, Castro,” Coach Lenny calls out. “We have a meeting in the locker room to announce the team roster.”

Yeah, right. Does he think I enjoy humiliation? I didn’t even finish the race-not that it was my fault or anything, but quitting is quitting. Oh well. Since I have to stop by school anyway to pick up my homework, I might as well sit in on the announcement. With Griffin coming in first, I’m sure there’s no way he’s not on the team, but maybe I’ll get the satisfaction of seeing Adara get cut.

The locker room is deafening loud with everyone talking at once.

The coaches are locked away in Coach Z’s office, making their decisions and everything.

Even surrounded by sixty kids I feel completely alone.

No one is talking to me, but plenty are talking about me. And staring at me. And pointing at me. And laughing at me.

Rather than sit there and take it, I go get a drink from the water fountain. A nice, long drink. I don’t think I’ve ever drunk so much at once-except for the time I ran the Death Valley Marathon. Being waterlogged is definitely more appealing than sitting around being stared at like a talking dog.