Goddess Boot Camp(33)

“Did you fly?”

“Not exactly.” I pull the badge across the table and slip it back into my pocket. “More like hovered to keep from smashing my head against the courtyard floor.”

Nicole and Troy exchange a look. They both say, “The trust fall.”

I nod, pretending I’m not crazy proud of myself. But I am.

The study guide says—yes, I finally read it—aerokinesis is the ability to move air. In this case, moving enough air under my falling body to hold it suspended. That’s pretty darn cool.

“Show us,” Nic says.

“What?” My hand is still in my pocket and I smooth my fingers over the edge of the patch. “You want me to trust-fall in here?”

“Nah.” She waves off my suggestion. She reaches across the table and grabs the saltshaker, setting it in from of me. “Move this using air.”

“I don’t think I should—”

“Come on,” Troy says. “We want to see what you learned.”

I hesitate. What if I can’t really control that power? What if I send the salt flying all over the room? That probably mean years of bad luck or something. Or what if I accidentally conjure an entire salt mine? Or if I zap us to the Dead Sea? Or—

“Stop dragging your feet.” Nicole points at the shaker. “Go.”

“Fine,” I say, but not before throwing her an annoyed scowl.

Then I turn my attention to the salt. Keeping in mind what Stella said—I know, right?—I concentrate on trusting the shaker to move. I’m not thinking about the salt or trying to move it or wishing it would move, I just picture it already there. In my mind, the shaker is in front of Nicole. I believe. I trust.

Everything glows. When I blink through the light, I see the little glass shaker slide smoothly down the table. The paper napkin from my cone flutters as the shaker passes.

Nicole catches the shaker as it slides to a stop.

“Nice,” she says with a grin.

I release a huge sigh of relief. All I can think is, It actually worked! Sure, I’d caught myself before smashing skull to pavement, but it wasn’t a conscious effort. This time I actually knew what I was doing. I had a goal. I met that goal.

And nothing blew up!

One step closer to not getting smoted.

“Maybe Goddess Boot Camp is the best thing that could have happened to your powers this summer,” Troy says. “Zeus knows it’s better than what’s happening to me this summer.”

“At least you’re not stuck with Stella and Adara,” I reply.

Okay, so Stella’s not at the top of my evil-harpy list at the moment. But Adara’s holding strong at number one.

“That reminds me,” Nicole says. “I might know what happened to the record.”

“The one about Phoebe’s dad?”

I know, I know. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone about going into the secret archives. But really, Troy is one of our closest friends. It’s not like he’s going to tell anyone.

“What?” I ask.

“After you ran off to camp,” she says, “Philipoulos was so mad about finding it gone that she ranted a bit. She kinda forgot I was there.”

“And you didn’t try to remind her.”

She flashes me a mischievous smile. “She said the only way someone could have slipped past the security of the closet elevator without her knowledge was if they had been a library aide. Anyone who wants a book from the archives has to fill out a request slip. Since Mrs. P is the only librarian on staff, once she has approved their request, she either sends an aide to retrieve the book or goes herself. Which means . . .”

“It had to be a student.” I shake my head. “Why would a student want to steal my dad’s trial record? Or any record? I mean, it’s not like it’s breaking news or anything.”

“There could be dozens of reasons,” Troy says. “Like someone looking for a loophole in an Olympic ruling, for example.”

His hazel eyes flick to Nicole.

“Or someone wanting to uncover a secret,” she snaps. “Or do a research paper. Or write an article for the Chronicle.”

The Chronicle? The school newspaper? A puzzle piece falls into place.

“Adara writes for the Chronicle.” It would be so typical for her to torment me like this. “She could have done it.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Troy says. “Don’t accuse her without—”

“She never worked in the library,” Nicole interrupts. “But there’s another possibility.” She pulls a computer printout from her back pocket and sets it in the middle of the table. “Read this.”

Troy and I both lean forward to see where she’s pointing.