Goddess Boot Camp

time.

But why did he lie to me?We're supposed to be partners. Equal. He should have known he could tell me the truth in complete confidence. But he couldn't-or wouldn't-confide in me, which means he doesn't trust me. Not completely. That means that, while he's not completely in the right, he does deserve another chance. We deserve another chance.

'You gave Griffin a raw deal., she says.

I never thought I'd say this, but she's right. 'I did.'

'What are you going to do about it?'

'I'll fix it,' I vow. As soon as camp is out for the day, I'll be knocking on his door, prepared to work out this whole trust thing.

'You'd better.'

When she starts to turn back to the courtyard, I reach out and touch her elbow. 'Thank you.'

She stiffens. 'Whatever,' she says, back in old Adara form. 'If you're over being pissed at me, maybe we can get on with the neo-factionexercise.'

Less than a minute later, she's standing there with a steaming-hot latte in her hand.

I spin around, ready for my accolades.

She takes a sip and then snorts. 'Nice try.' The cup glows for a second and then disappears. That was decaf.'

For a second I think about strangling her. But then my common sense kicks in. First of all, I need to focus on controlling my powersif I'm going to pass the test. And second, I don't fancy spending time in Hades.

Sympathy for Adara has nothing to do with my decision to quietly turn around and try again.

Promise.

* * *

'He didn't mention where he was going,' Aunt Lili says when I ask her if Griffin's home.

'Oh,' I say, deflated. I want to talk to him as soon as possible. For the first time in a while, I do notthink the worst. Despite my better judgment-maybe it was her tears or the phase of the moon or a curse of understanding-I believe Adara. 'Can you tell him I stopped by. And-' I almost ask her to tell him I'm sorry, but that's definitely the sort of thing a girl needs to say in person. 'And that I'll try again tomorrow.'

And the day after that. And the day after that. And every day until we're good again. Because what we have is definitely worth the effort-and definitely worth my eating some humble pie.

'My nephew isn't perfect,' Aunt Lili says as I reach the door. 'But he has a good heart.'

'Yeah,' I say giving her a confident smile. 'I know that.' Now.

If my trust issues have driven him away, I have no one to blame but myself.

As the door closes behind me, I think about how unfair I was toGriffin-and to myself-for thinking the worst. After nine months, I should trust him-and my instincts-more than that.

Without thinking, I kick into a jog as I hit the edge of the village. My Nikes pound the smooth stone path with a soft thud, every step I take sends more blood, more oxygen, pumping through me. My worries start to ooze away. Griffin and I will be fine. If he can't forgive me right away, then I'll work to win him back. We're fated. That's not the kind of thing a girl can let slip away.

I'll pass my test. My control over my powers is getting better every day. Last week I autoportedand today I materialized-neofactured-a dozen lattes for Adara,even if none of them was to her exacting specifications, she still gave me the merit badge, (this one has an orange ring of color, a yellow background, and a gray factory-building design. I'll line it up on my dresser, next to the other six, when I get home.)

Tomorrow night, I'll meet my mystery e-mailer and find out what happened to Dad. And maybe learn how to keep whatever happened to him from accidentally happening to me.

Running always makes everything so clear.

Maybe this is why I've been so stressed. Most of the running I've done lately is training runs. All business and focus. No time for daydreaming and working through things while physically exhausting myself. Running is definitely my therapy. Starting tomorrow, I'm going to schedule regular fun runs-training-free time.

Before I know it, I'm jogging toward home, following the path that curves around the front lawn of the Academy. But I haven'tfinished exercising my problems, so I steer off toward campus. A hard run around the cross-country course should do the trick.

Nearly two hours later I'm racing up the front steps at home, exhausted in the best possible way.

Giddy on endorphins, I bust in and shout, 'Stella, I'm-'

I stop midsentence.

Lying on the living-room couch, feet propped up on the arm and clearly asleep, is Griffin. He didn't stir when I came shouting into the room. Obviously, he's been out for a while.

'He was on the front porch when I got home from camp,' Stella says. She's leaning against the far wall, casually stirring up the fruit in a peach yogurt.

My heart melts big-time.

How could I have been such an idiot? He's made it clear every day in a million different ways how much he cares for me. I was ready to dismiss it all because he was talking to another girl. Because he was helping out a good friend.

I will never be that stupid again. Well, I'll try not to be anyway.

In an instant, I'm sitting on the coffee table at the end by his head.

'I've got some work to do,' Stella says, pushing away from the wall. 'I'll be in my room. With the door shut. And my headphones on.'

I flash her a grateful smile. She's giving us-me-some privacy and I appreciate it. I don't need her to see me begging for forgiveness- she'd never let me live it down.

As soon as she and her yogurt disappear down the hall, I lean forward over Griffin. I take a second to absorb him before I wakehim up. I've never seen him sleep before-his thick lashes fan out below his eyes like exotic palm fronds. There is no sign of worry or pain or the weight of his Herculean obligations. Just pure, innocent boy.

Mypure, innocent boy.

Hand hovering above his shoulder, I sigh. I don't want to wake him up. I don't want to disturb his peace.

But my sigh must have been a touch too loud or too close- or maybe he just sensed I was there- because his palm-frond lashes flutter open, and instead I'm staring into his bright blue eyes.

For about half asecond, his eyes are just as worry-free as his sleeping face had been. He smiles. Then a cloud shadows their brightness.

'Phoebe,'' he exclaims, lurching up to a sitting position. 'I was waiting for you.'

I smile nervously. 'Clearly.'

'I mean, I wanted to talk to you.' He looks over my shoulder. 'What time is it?'

I check my watch. 'Six-thirty.'

'Skata.I was supposed to meet Dara at six.' His eyes pop wide. 'I mean-not that I-she doesn't-'

'It's okay,' I say, laying a hand on his arm. 'She told me.'

His eyebrows pinch into a frown and he looks like he's in pain. 'I wanted to tell you. You know I did.