Goddess Boot Camp

I look down. The sliver of beach is two feet thinner than when I started out. I hope it just naturally narrows down as it goes. But a quick glance behind me reveals that the entire strip of beach is disappearing. About a hundred yards back, it's completely gone. Which can only mean one thing.

'Rising tides,' I exclaim.

How could I have been so stupid? If the tide is low and I'm suddenly seeing a beach that's never been there before, it's probably because it's not there during high tide. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid.'

I have to decide quickly what to do, because it's not like I can scale the cliffs if the tide comes in. Behind me, the beach is already underwater. My only choice is to press on and hope the beach opens up around the curve up ahead.

Kicking into a sprint, I try to calm my racing heart. Fear sends adrenaline pumping through my blood, and that's only going to cloud my judgment.

I've never been a short-distance dasher, but I make the two hundred yards to the curve in the beach in record time.

My calves are on fire and my heart is racing out of control. I've never felt so keyed up.

As I speed around the rocks, I heave a huge gasp of relief. There's a nice wide beach, deep enough to stick around for high tide. Some of it even looks familiar.

There's a cluster of bushes along the cliff wall that I know I've seen before. I remember-it's the beach where Griffin took me when we made up last fall. The last training session before the Cycladian Cup.

That's when I know that one day I'll thank Nola for making me give Griffin a second chance. The memory of how great it felt to know he cared about me, how great it felt to take his hand and know that nothing stood between us anymore. I want that again.

'What do you mean you didn't tell her?' a muffled female voice demands.

I'm not sure what makes me do it-instinct, fear, or knowledge beyond my years-but I dive behind a big boulder. I hear the sound of footsteps on gravel and then silence. Whoever was talking must have just reached the beach.

'How could I?' an intimately familiar male voice replies.

Griffin.

'She still doesn't trust me,' he says. 'She thinks I'm cheating on her.'

'Oh, and nottelling her what's going on is definitely going to make that better.'

Is that Adara? I can't see for sure. I dare a peck around the edge of the boulder and catch a glimpse of blonde. Her back is to me, so I can't tell. But it has to be… right?

'I know that, Nicole,' he says.

Nicole?

Everything crashes to a stop. There's no wind whistling through the trees. No waves crashing on the beach. No breath leaving my body.

'You can't tell Phoebe,' he says. 'If she knew what was going on, then she might…'

The rest of his sentence gets lost as the world rushes back to life around me. There's a roaring in my ears that I can't shake away. Then my hearing finally clears as he says, 'I don't want her to get hurt.'

Why does Nicole know the secret I'm not allowed to know? And why would whatever they're doing wind up hurting me? It's bad enough knowing Griffin has betrayed me with Adara. I expect that from her and should have known better about him. But Nicole? She is the closest thing I have to a best friend on this island.

How could they do this to me?

In that instant, my mind focuses entirely on one thing; getting away from this beach. Away from where I learned about this latest betrayal. Away, away, away.

Eyes closed, I feel a tingling spread over my skin.

When I blink open, I'm in my room.

Great, I finally do something useful with my powers, and I can't even enjoy it. I'm too busy worrying about my world crumbling around me.

'I didn't hear you come home,' Stella says when I stumble out of my room two tear -filled hours later.

I barely glance at her before continuing to the kitchen. All my crying has left me severely dehydrated and I need liquid like nobody's business. Taking a dirty glass from the sink, I fill it with tap water and chug. I don't even have the energy to twist the cap off a Gatorade.

'What happened to you?'

I flick Stella a glance over my glass. Her generally superior look gradually fades as I just stare at her.

When I finish the last drop in my glass, I set it in the sink and start to leave the kitchen. Stella steps in front of me. She grabs my shoulders with both hands, dips down to look in my eyes, and announces. 'You autoported.'

'What?'

'Autoported,'she repeats. 'You shimmered yourself home, didn't you?'

'How can you tell?' Then I remember she can read minds. 'Never mind.'

'No,' she says, shaking her head. 'Your mind's too much of a mess for me to read right now. You have a residual glow in your eyes. That only happens when someone has recently autoported.'

I shrug. I'm in no mood to be analyzed or critiqued or judged or whatever she's trying to do right now.

'I know you're hurting,' she says, her voice soft with understanding. 'but autoportation is the most advanced of all dynamotheos powers. We need to figure out how this happened.'

'Stella, I-'

She squeezes my shoulders. 'I wouldn't ask you to do this right now unless I thought it was really important.'

Her pale gray eyes are steely with resolve. Clearly, I'm not escaping this session. 'Just let me splash some water on my face.'

Stella nods and lets me go freshen up.

When I get back, she's in the dining room with a bunch of papers spread out over the table. She glances up when I walk in.

'Feeling better?'

'A little,' I answer honestly.

'Good,' she says, 'because I need you to tell me everything about the situation that led to your autoportation.'

As I sink into the chair opposite hers, I meet her eyes straight on. I don't really want to tell her what just happened-we may be friendly at the moment, but that doesn't mean I'm about to share personal details of my love life. But, the truth is, I'm a little freaked out by the whole autoportationthing. It's not like I controlled it. I didn't even see it coming.

What if I accidentally autoportmyself to the Gobi Desert? Or the bottom of the ocean? Or the middle of a Mary-Kay convention? I shudder at the thought of all the makeup and pep.

Considering the risks of notunderstanding what happened, it's far less frightening to tell Stella the truth.

'Well, I went for a run,' I begin. 'To clear my head…'