Goddess Boot Camp(18)
“These packets contain vital information for camp.” Adara holds up a rainbow packet. “Besides the schedule, there are handouts, work sheets, and study guides. The most critical is the Dynamotheos Study Guide.”
“This guide explains the powers passed down by the twelve Olympians to all hematheos. It is the foundation for our training,” Stella explains. “We expect you to study it thoroughly. Tonight.”
I take the packet Stella hands me and flip through it. This seems a lot like homework—something I was looking forward to not doing this summer. As if a work sheet is going to help me control my powers.
“Yes, Larissa?” Adara says.
A blonde girl to my right lowers her raised hand and asks, “Um, if dynamotheos comes from the twelve Olympians, why is Hades there? He doesn’t live on Olympus.”
“No,” Stella explains. “But he is one of the six original children of Cronus and Rhea. Demeter gave up her claim to a dynamotheos, preferring to pass on her agricultural abilities through outreach and education.”
“Oh,” Larissa says with a shy smile. “Okay.”
“Now let’s go over the schedule. And after,” Stella continues, “we will do some icebreaker activities so we can all get to know each other a little better.”
Even though she can’t look at him without being totally obvious, I’m sure Stella means she wants to get to know Xander best of all. The idea that Stella has a crush and I might get to witness her acting like a lovesick puppy makes me happier than it probably should, but a girl has to take pleasure where she can.
Maybe this won’t be the worst two weeks of my life, after all.
“My name is Pandora. I’m a descendant of, well, Pandora. I usually live with my mom in Geneva, but she’s doing relief work in the Congo and sent me to stay with my dad on Serfopoula for the summer.”
Everyone in the circle says, “Hi, Pandora!”
I swallow a groan. This is like the first morning of every cross-country camp I’ve ever attended. Only at cross-country camp I at least had hard-core running to look forward to. I don’t think I’m lucky enough to hope that after the icebreakers Stella’s going to say, “Warm-up’s over. Let’s run.”
We’re just over halfway through the circle, with three girls, the counselors, and—joy—me still to give our introductions.
“Welcome, Pandora.” Stella smiles sweetly at the frizzy-haired blonde. “What are your expectations for Goddess Boot Camp?”
“Well . . .” Pandora says, chewing on her lip as she thinks. “I’d like to be able to turn my little brother into a toad.”
The other girls all laugh.
Stella tsks. “You most certainly will not learn that.”
“Fine, then.” Pandora crosses her arms with a little pout. “Since I live in the nothos world, I want to learn how to keep my powers hidden.”
“Very good.” Stella nods in approval.
Everyone else claps.
I’m secretly relieved, because I need to learn that, too. As much as I love Mom and Damian—most of the time—I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life on this tiny island. If I am ever going to return to the nothos world, as Pandora put it—a world I happily inhabited until a few months ago—then I have to not only learn how to control my powers, but also how to conceal them.
Xander leans forward and says, “When camp is over, I can help you out with that toad thing.”
He seems completely serious—no hint of a smile or anything. That earns him a scowl from Stella, a giggle from Pandora, and an eye roll from Adara. I’m definitely intrigued. This is the most he’s said all morning. Up until now it’s been nods, raised eyebrows, and—when forced—a grunt of agreement. He’s definitely got the whole mysterious thing working.
I never knew Stella went for the jaded rebel-boy type.
“Next,” Adara says, moving the introductions along.
“I’m Gillian and my mom teaches here at the Academy. I’m a descendant of Athena, and I—”
“Sorry I’m late.”
Everyone turns to look as a woman rushes toward the circle, her sandals smacking on the stone floor with every step. Halfway to the circle, the strap on her tote bag breaks, sending the contents flying everywhere. She drops to her knees, gathering the stray papers back into a pile.
Next to me, Stella huffs.
“Everyone,” she says, her voice full of barely disguised exasperation, “this is our faculty sponsor. Miss Orivas.”
As Miss Orivas looks up and, still on all fours, waves, Stella points at the papers. They glow for a second and then are suddenly back in the tote bag. Another quick glow repairs the broken strap.