“A fairy tale,” he says, “is a story we wish were true.”

I smile in relief. Whatever Troy and I are destined to become, I know we’re friends. And I’m glad my stupid deal with Stella hasn’t come between that.

Which reminds me… “There’s something I need to tell you.”

His eyebrows lift.

I stand up so I can tell him eye-to-eye.

“It’s about me and the evil stepsister.”

“I’m listening,” he says.

It’s better he knows what’s going on so next time I make a fool of myself with Griffin he doesn’t jump to any crazy conclusions. The reality of the situation is bad enough.

“What happened in the lunch room today wasn’t about me wanting Griffin.” At least, not just about me wanting Griffin. “Stella and I made a deal.”

He looks skeptical. “About what?”

“If I break up Griffin and Adara she’ll tutor me in Modern Greek-”

“I could help you with Modern Greek.”

Why hadn’t I thought of that? “That’s not the only thing. If I do this she’ll help convince her dad that I don’t need to stay on for Level 13.”

“And if you don’t?” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“She’ll convince him that I do.”

He scowls. “Why that conniving, blackmailing-”

“I know… but I agreed.”

“So,” he says slowly, “you want to get off this island so bad you’re willing to make a deal with the gorgon?”

“Yes.” He sounds so sad that I feel kinda guilty. But undeterred.

“I just wanted you to know, so you would understand, because I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

I place a little extra emphasis on the word friendship, trying to make him see that that’s how I think of him. As a friend.

From the look in his eyes, he knows exactly what I’m saying.

“All right.” He smiles, like he’s trying to show that he’s fine with that. “If that’s what you really want I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

I tug my zip-front sweatshirt tighter around my waist. The sun is gone now, and the beach is downright chilly. Maybe all that cool air blowing off the water.

“Thank-”

“Well, well, well,” a whiny voice I’m starting to get sick of says, “look who showed up at the bonfire uninvited.”

Flanked by two other cheerleaders, Adara is wearing a white crocheted bikini top and a pair of white cutoff jeans shorts. I’m shivering in my jeans and sweatshirt-she must be freezing.

The thought makes me smile.

“Hi, Adara,” I say with sugary sweetness. “I love your swimsuit.”

She scowls, but can’t resist the compliment. “Thanks-”

“Of course, I loved it when everyone in L.A. was wearing them last summer.” I turn to Troy and whisper dramatically, loud enough for everyone to hear, “It’s so last season.”

Adara’s mouth drops open. “Listen, kako. Tonight is for descendants only-no godly blood, no bonfire. Leave now before you embarrass yourself.”

“Leave off, Adara,” Troy says. “She’s with me.”

“Really?” she coos. “She was panting over my boyfriend at lunch today. Are your attachments always so fleeting, kako?”

Troy lunges forward, but I grab his shoulders and hold him back.

He gives me a look that says he’s clearly willing to throw down with Adara for me. I shake my head.

“She’s not worth it,” I say. “You have to pity someone who doesn’t understand the concept of friendship.”

Adara sidesteps Troy, stepping right up into my face.

“Stella may be softening toward you, but I know better.” We are nose to nose when she sneers, “You are a disgrace to the Academy and your very presence sullies a reputation over two thousand years in the making.”

I know this shouldn’t bother me. I mean, she’s a jealous, vindictive cow. Still, I have a feeling that she’s not the only student at the Academy who feels that way. Since I can’t really argue that point-I mean, I can’t like suddenly make myself the descendant of a god-I resort to hitting Adara where it hurts.

In her superficial face.

“Wow, I have never seen pores that big,” I say with a gasp of awe, tilting my head for a closer look. “Those blackheads look like Dalmatian spots.”

While she struggles to think of some witty comeback-I’m not waiting around all night for that -I take Troy by the hand and lead him down the beach toward the blanket Nicole has spread out.

He stumbles a little as I tug him, but catches up quickly.

“She’s going to hate you.” He sounds genuinely concerned.

I roll my eyes. “She already does.”

From behind, she shouts, “At least I’m not wearing shoes from the last decade.”

I glance at my footwear.

My Chuck Taylors are brand-new. In fact, they’re so new they need a little wearing in and maybe a few scuffs. Besides, black All Stars are always the height of fashion.

And the originals date back to the fifties. Adara could use some work on her fashion history.

“You’re right,” I shout back over my shoulder, darting a glance at her standing petulantly with her hands on her hips. “Those beaded flip-flops you’re wearing are only two seasons old.”

“Aaargh!!!” Her scream echoes across the beach.

Everyone turns to stare at her as she stomps her foot on the sand. Does she think that’s making a statement? “You’d better get off this island as soon as possible,” Troy says, laughing. “The longer you stay the greater the chance that Adara blasts you to Hades.”

“I’m not afraid of her.” We reach the blanket and I drop down to sit next to Nicole. “If she does anything too horrible to me, Damian will ground her powers.”

“Yeah,” Nicole says as she pokes me in the arm, “but by then you’ll be smoted.”

I shrug and lay back on the blanket, my hands behind my head.

“No worries. With all the extra practices and workouts, Coach Lenny will kill me long before she gets the chance.”

Nicole lays out next to me. “I can’t understand why anyone would run on purpose, anyway. Are you masochistic?”

“Non runners don’t get it, I guess.” I close my eyes and picture myself running. A sense of calm sweeps over me. “There’s freedom in running. Escape. Power.”

“Insanity,” Troy adds.

I pry open one eye to glare at him. He’s sitting at the edge of the blanket staring out at the water.

Maybe it is insanity. Every time I hit the wall, when my body screams, No more of this running crap! I tell myself this is the last race ever. Am I so stupid that I want to run myself into utter exhaustion for no good reason? I’ll just finish this race and then hang up my sneakers. Forever.

Then I push through the wall. And everything becomes clear.

Euphoria sets in-along with a whole boatload of endorphins. I can’t remember why I was even thinking about giving it up.

Maybe that is insanity.

Everyone has to find their version of therapy. Running is mine.

I wonder what Troy’s is? “Don’t you have something that you just have to do, even though every time you do it you tell yourself you’re crazy to even try? But if you don’t do it you feel even crazier?”

He keeps staring at the water. He’s silent so long I think he’s not going to answer. I drop my head back and close my eyes.

“Music,” he finally says.

I lift back up on my elbows. “Music?”

“Whenever I play the guitar I feel like it’s a colossal waste of time, but I can’t stop playing.” His voice is almost reverent. “I want to be a musician.”

“That’s great,” I say.

He snorts. “Try telling my parents that.”

“The Travatas clan takes their heritage seriously.” Nicole exerts enough energy to roll onto her side. “They believe all descendants of Asklepios should pursue the medical profession.”

“So because your great-great-something was into medicine they want you to be a doctor, too?” I ask.

“A neurosurgeon.” He laughs. “I couldn’t even stand to dissect an earthworm in Level 4. How could I cut open a human skull?”

Ew. I shudder, but keep my disgust to myself. This is about Troy and his passions.

“If you want to be a musician-if you can’t be anything else-then you’ll find a way.” I lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “True callings aren’t easy to hide from.”

He covers my hand with his own. “Thanks.”

“If you two are done with the Hallmark moment, I’d like to watch the fireworks in peace.”

I glance up at the empty, silent sky. “What fireworks?”

“Just wait.” Troy checks his watch. “In five, four, three, two, one-”

The sky above us explodes in a shimmering burst of color. Red, blue, and green embers flicker through the darkness, raining down around us. Another big sphere of golden sparkles bursts into the sky.

“I didn’t even hear the launch,” I remark.

“Honey, we don’t need to bother with messy explosives,” Nicole replies. “All it takes is a little focus and a snap of my fingers.”

She snaps her fingers and a little blue spark shoots through the air, landing on Troy’s Green Day T-shirt. He quickly pats at the spot where the ember hit-a spot that starts smoking and leaves a little hole above the G.

“Hey,” he exclaims. “Watch where you throw the fireworks, Nic.”

I laugh out loud at the thought of Troy going up in flames from a single spark. Nicole just shrugs and says, “Sorry. Haven’t honed my fireworks skills recently.”

“Well don’t test them on my clothing.”

I settle back into the blanket, feeling the warm sand crunch beneath the blanket, and watch the fireworks while listening to my two friends bickering. It’s almost like being home. If not for the whole supernatural-descendants-of-the-gods thing and being thousands of miles away from everything I’ve ever called home, this island could be bearable.