Man, I can’t keep any secrets.

“Hey, Damian?” I ask over my shoulder. “Can you read emotions through walls?”

“No,” he says with laughter in his voice.

“Good.” I move through the doorway, to the other side of the wall. “Because I’d probably get in trouble for what I’m feeling right now.”

To my total shock, Damian laughs out loud.

“I don’t need to read emotions to know what you’re feeling at the moment,” he says. “But I promise not to use it against you.”

With a smile, I hurry back to my room.

For the first time since we landed on this island I feel like more than two things in a row are going right. It might not last, but I’ll take it while I can.

Chapter 5

“YOU MUST TRAIN HARDER than ever before.” Coach Lenny looks at me across his desk. “Not only must you surpass our own runners, but the other teams we will be competing against are very good.”

“All right,” I say. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Thankfully,” he says as he flips open his calendar, “you won’t be competing against Blake. But you will be running the same course.”

I fall silent. Even though Coach Lenny knows Griffin zapped me, I’m still not a rat. Besides, a girl has to stand by her lies, right?

“Don’t worry about him, though,” Coach Lenny says. There is a wicked gleam in his eyes and he smiles. “Coach Z and I have agreed to ground his powers for the day of the race.”

“Okay,” I say mildly. But inside I’m jumping for joy.

Griffin is going to be so pissed off!

“Actually, we have decided to ground everyone’s powers.” He winks at me. “The team is always prohibited from using their powers in a race, but this time we’re making sure.”

Wow. If everyone only hates me now, they’re going to really despise me by the time I get out of here.

Coach Lenny starts scribbling on the card, down to business. “Even with their powers grounded, your teammates will still have exceptional strength and stamina. I want to make sure you blow them away.” He hands me the card. “Do these exercises each night before you go to bed.”

I read the exercises.

25 sit-ups

15 push-ups

50 jumping jacks

repeat 4X

“Okay,” I say. “No problem. What else?”

He starts writing on another card.

“Hydrate. Drink at least sixty-four ounces of water a day. And consume plenty of protein and complex carbohydrates.” He slides the second card across the desk. “You’re going to need the energy.”

The second card says, 6:00am M-F & 8:00am Sat-Sun.

I look at him, confused.

“We will meet every day before school and every morning on the weekends for a training session. In addition to the daily practices after school and on Saturday afternoons. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be in the best shape of your life. You’ll be ready to win the Athens marathon.”

“Great.” I slip the cards into my backpack. “I’m ready to work.”

He smiles at me. “Get changed for practice. I’ll meet you on the course.”

I head off to the locker room, anxious for the freedom of running. After the day I’ve had I could run a hundred miles. Hey, it’s cheaper than therapy.

Ms. T’s quiz had been more like a final exam. If I hadn’t read every word of the assignment I would have flunked big time. I make a mental note to thank Damian and Troy for the inside scoop.

“Look what the sympathy vote dragged in,” a syrupy voice says when I walk into the locker room. A flurry of giggles erupt around Adara.

Lifting my chin a notch, I stalk to my locker and spin the combination. In these situations it’s always better just to ignore the vicious cheerleader taunts. Witty retorts only wind up pissing them off more.

“What’s the matter, kako?” She walks up beside me and plants one Reebok-shod foot on the bench. “Afraid to tangle with a goddess? Afraid you’ll lose?”

I clench my jaw, but still say nothing. Jerking my sweatpants out of the locker, I fling them onto the bench—next to her foot—and begin unbuttoning my jeans.

Out of the corner of my eye I see her lean down, blonde hair swinging over her shoulders, and snatch up my sweats.

“Give those back,” I demand.

She stands up on the bench and holds them over her head. “Come and get ’em.”

With a growl I leap up on the bench with both feet. Leaning back, she holds the pants just out of my reach.

“Give them back,” I warn. “Or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Her lower lip pouts out and she flutters her eyelashes. “You’ll call your daddy to take them from me?”

I gasp. At first I think she must not know my dad is dead—maybe gossip at the Academy is not up to PacificPark standards.

Then she adds, “Oh, that’s right. Your dad’s dead.”

I don’t know how she knows, but she does. And she doesn’t care.

Adara drops my pants to the cement floor, where they land in a puddle of shower water. That’s the last straw.

My vision goes fuzzy, like someone is shining a really bright light in my face.

With every ounce of power I can dredge up—fueled by desperate fury and the Twinkie Nicole split with me between fifth and sixth periods—I lash out violently with both hands, slamming my palms against her chest. Adara flies off the bench, sailing through the air until the cinder-block wall stops her.