doubtful she’d do the same for a book about making offerings to the gods. Especially if I’m the one doing the asking.
“Well, we need to get inside,” Troy says. “Any ideas?”
“Not unless you know someone who works as a library aid.”
Troy is silent, and I look up to find his cheeks bright pink.
“Actually . . .”
“Spill.”
“Look, I don’t even know if she’ll help.”
She? “Who is she ?”
Troy shakes his dark-blond head. “Let me ask her. It’ll be better if you don’t get involved.”
I scowl at him—a trick that usually works—but he ignores me as he pushes to his feet.
“Meet me in the upper level of the library in an hour.” He hands me the book. “Either I’ll have it or we’ll figure out a Plan B.”
I watch, confused, as Troy leaves my room. Other than hiding his dream of becoming a musician from his parents, he’s usually rubbish at keeping secrets. That he’s keeping this one from me—and that itinvolves a girl who makes him blush—only makes me more intrigued.
But if this girl can get the book that will help me make things right, I’ll let him keep his secret. For now.
3
T he library makes me uncomfortable. All that gold and marble and the smell of musty, old books. I’d rather be pretty much anywhere.
I start tapping my fingers on the surface of one of the ancient-looking tables. The place is empty. The Academy only offers a few summer programs—like the premed one Troy’s parents are making him take—so the campus is pretty deserted. Even Goddess Boot Camp, the training camp Phoebe had to complete to learn how to use her new powers, is over. All the snooty rich kids are off on their yachts in Ibiza or working at Daddy’s law firm or Mommy’s ad agency for the summer. The only ones left are the ones in summer school and those of us who have nowhere else to go.
I’m stuck on the island year-round. If I didn’t get a reprieve from all the godlets in the summer I’d go insane.
It’s been more than an hour since Troy said to meet him here. I’m getting antsy. If he can’t get his hands on the book, I don’t know what the next step will be. I can’t exactly knock on Headmaster Petrolas’s door and ask him how to travel through time.
It’s not like he can expel me—terms of the Olympic decree—but I’m sure I’d get a lifetime of his worst detentions ever.
If Troy can’t get the book, though, it might be—
Troy appears at the top of the grand, curving staircase looking very guilty. His eyes shift left and right before rushing over to my table and dropping into the chair next to me.
His hands are empty. My heart thumps.
“Your girlfriend couldn’t get it?”
He lifts his brows, spreads his arms out over the table, and then pulls something out of his left sleeve. His grin tells me everything I need to know.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he insists.
Snatching the small, green book from his fingers, I ask, “How?”
Before he can answer, an annoying female voice says, “See you around, Troy.”
I turn to see Adara—aka evil cheer queen from Hades—waving as she crosses to the main entrance. My jaw drops. No wonder he didn’t want me involved. My temper has a short fuse around petty popular girls.
This descendant of Aphrodite is pretty much the antithesis of everything I am, was, or ever will be.
“What?” She can’t be his secret helper. She’s like our archenemy. “Not Adara? ”
He can’t be interested in her. He can’t like her. He just can’t.
Troy waves to the cheer witch while shushing me. “It’s not what you think.”
“Oh, really?” I ask as the door closes behind her. “What exactly do I think?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“You dating that vapid cow is definitely something to worry about.”
He scowls at me. “We aren’t dating.” He nods at the book. “Don’t we have work to do?”
I’m torn between wanting to push him for answers and wanting to find out what the three offerings