Oh. My. Gods. Page 64
Now, after all those years of hard work and integrity, in just one race on this island, I’m a cheater. Someone—and I have a pretty good idea who that powers-charmed-bracelet-giving someone is— used godly powers to help me win. I won a race that I didn’t deserve to win.
Winning by cheating isn’t winning at all.
“I didn’t cheat,” I say, barely keeping my volume under control because I am so irritated that he keeps playing dumb, “but it feels like I did. When you gave me your powers, I—”
“Whoa!” He jumps back, waving his hands in front of his chest defensively. “When I gave you my powers? I couldn’t even do that if I wanted to.”
Holding up my hand, I pluck at the friendship bracelet. “Then what do you call this?”
“A friendship bracelet.”
“Ha,” I snort.
“We can’t just give our powers to someone else.” He steps closer, his voice calm and certain. “Besides the fact that it would probably kill the person on the receiving end, your stepdad would expel me in a heartbeat. I like you a lot Phoebe, but I’m not about to throw away my future for anyone.”
“If you’re just going to lie to me, then I’d like you to leave.” I turn my back to him and head down the steps.
He doesn’t say a word, so I think he’s gone.
When I glance back he’s still there. Staring at me. He looks like I’ve kicked him in the guts. With that wounded look in his eyes, he turns and walks into the school. I shrug it off, telling myself I don’t care about the feelings of a cheater, no matter how cute and sincere he seems. No matter how good of a friend I thought he was.
Damian smiles oddly. “I wouldn’t be too hard on the boy,” he says. “Shall we go inside and have our talk?”
I nod and we all head up the broad stone steps. Now I’m even more confused. Either Damian doesn’t know about the cheating, or he doesn’t care.
Coach Lenny is waiting in Damian’s office. For a second I stare at him, shocked that he’s there. This must be about my cheating. I drop my gaze to the floor. I can’t face him. I can’t stand to see the look of betrayal in his eyes. After we worked so hard, so many extra hours, for it all to just not count because of Troy’s misplaced desire to help.
But I know it’s Coach’s right to confront me. He put in as much extra time and effort as I did, and he deserves to grill me about why I’ve quit the team.
“I’m so sorry, Coach,” I say, dropping into the chair next to his. “I didn’t know what he did.”
Coach frowns. “What who did? And why in Hades are you sorry? You’re my superstar. You won the race.”
Damian moves around behind his desk, lowering into his big leather chair. “Phoebe thinks she cheated,” he says as he pulls open a desk drawer. “She thinks Travatas gave her a power-granting
charm.”
Lenny gapes at him. “But that’s not even—”
“I know.” Damian lays the folder on the desk.
“I quit the team,” I say, trying to at least save myself the embarrassment of getting kicked off. But even as I say the words my eyes fill with tears—I’ve never felt as close to a coach as I do to Coach Lenny. It breaks my heart to know I can’t run for him anymore. “I’ll send you an official e-mail of resignation when I get home.”
Mom comes up behind me and places her hands on my shoulders, softly massaging my tension. “Listen to what they have to say, Phoebe.”
“You’re still on the team,” he says. “And you didn’t cheat.”
I stare at him blankly. He’s clearly in denial.
“Even if you had wanted to, you couldn’t have,” he explains. “Everyone’s powers were grounded for this race. Even yours.”
“I don’t know how he did it, Coach—” I wipe away a stray tear. “But I know you saw the glow.”
“Of course I saw it,” he says. “Everyone saw it.”
“You can’t tell me that wasn’t someone’s powers.”
“No, Phoebe, I can’t tell you that.”
“I’m telling you, it w—” His words register. “What?”
“You’re right,” he says. “That glow that surrounded you at the end of the race was the glow of immortal powers.”
“Then, why—”
“You’re missing his point, Phoebola.” Mom squeezes my shoulders tighter.
Coach looks at me expectantly. I shake my head. I don’t understand what he’s saying. It’s like I know something’s not sinking in, but I just can’t figure out what. He says I’m right and I’m wrong. How can I be both? Either someone helped me cheat or they didn’t.
Damian slides the file folder across the desk; Coach picks it up, opens it, and shuffles through the stack of papers inside. “Have you ever done something you thought yourself physically incapable of doing?” he asks.
Startled by the abrupt change of subject, I snap, “Other than winning the race?”
“Yes,” Damian says, patiently. “Other than that.”
“No,” I say flatly. Then I remember the time I sent Adara flying across the locker room. “I mean, I suppose so. Who hasn’t?”
“We’ve done some investigating, Phoebe.” Coach pulls out what looks like a computer printout of run times. “Ever since you kept up with me in the first warm-up session I had my suspicions. I mean, I’m a descendant of Hermes. No nothos should be able to keep my pace. But you did.”