Goddess Boot Camp Read Online Free

moment—exactly my problem, by the way—I focus on something I can control. Running.
    “I can’t think about this anymore right now,” I announce. I ask Griffin, “Are you ready to run?”
    “Of course.” He flashes me a brilliant grin.
    Turning to Nicole, I offer, “You’re welcome to join us.”
    “No thanks.” She climbs off the bed and grabs her messenger bag from the floor. “I’m allergic to exercise.”
    “So I’ve noticed,” I tease. She and Troy have that in common.
    “I was thinking we could run the north shore today,” Griffin says. Then to Nicole, “You could walk with us as far as the village.” He dips his head a little and lowers his voice. “If you’re heading that way.”
    My fears of smoting and embarrassment and being turned into a goat are instantly gone. I’m so proud of Griffin for making inroads with Nicole. They’ll be back to best friends in no time.
    “Thanks,” she says. “But I’m heading to the library for a little extracurricular research.”
    Or maybe their friendship will take a little more time to heal back to pre-incident levels. I’m not concerned. They’ve gone from mortal enemies to friendlies in under a year. It will all be behind them by the time we graduate.
    “We can walk with you to the school,” I say, snagging an elastic off my dresser and pulling my hair into a ponytail. “Since it’s on the way to the village.”
    As we head through the living room, I hear Damian’s voice coming from the master bedroom. “We will be gone for less than two weeks, Valerie,” he says. “Is it really necessary to take three suitcases?”
    “I’ve never been to Thailand before,” she replies. “I’m not sure what to pack. Besides . . .” Her voice takes on a kind of purring tone. “We only have one honeymoon and I want to make it special.”
    Mom and Damian have been married for months now, but their lovey-dovey talk is still going strong. An image of what exactly my mom is packing in those three suitcases is about to pop into my mind. It has lace and sequins and—I shudder—feathers.
    “Let’s go,” I say, grabbing Griffin and Nicole by the arms and hurrying them out the door. “With any luck, they’ll be done packing when I get home.”
     
     
     
    As Griffin and I round a rocky outcropping on Serfopoula’s north-shore beach, I’m thinking about Dad. That’s not so unusual. I think about Dad a lot when I run. Lately, though—ever since I found out I was a descendant of the goddess of victory and exactly how Dad died—my thoughts have been a little different.
    Before I found out, running usually brought back memories of training with him. Of running on Santa Monica beach in the early-morning hours and getting ice cream when we were done. Of him shouting encouragements: “Feel the victory inside you, Phoebester.” (Yeah, victory has a completely different meaning now.)
    Since finding out, running makes me think about how he died. About how, even though he knew there would be consequences for using his powers, he loved football so much he was willing to risk it. To risk us .
    I still can’t believe he loved football more than me and Mom.
    “How we doing?” Griffin asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
    I shake my head back into the moment.
    “That’s our halfway mark for today.” I point at a low-hanging tamarisk tree at the edge of the beach.
    “What’s our time?”
    Lifting my wrist, I check my watch. It reads 1:42 P.M. Not good.
    “Crap.” How could I be so stupid? “I forgot to start the stopwatch.”
    “No problem.” He flashes me a quick smile. “We can start logging our pace tomorrow. Today can be a warm-up.”
    “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I say, matching his strides with every step. It’s not like me to mess up a training session like this. “Every time I get to the starting line lately, it’s like my brain goes to mush.”
    “You’re worried about your powers,” he says as we reach the tree and turn