I shrug. I'm in no mood to be analyzed or critiqued or judged or whatever she's trying to do right now.
"I know you're hurting," she says, her voice soft with understanding. "but autoportation is the most advanced of all dynamotheos powers. We need to figure out how this happened."
"Stella, I-"
She squeezes my shoulders. "I wouldn't ask you to do this right now unless I thought it was really important."
Her pale gray eyes are steely with resolve. Clearly, I'm not escaping this session. "Just let me splash some water on my face."
Stella nods and lets me go freshen up.
When I get back, she's in the dining room with a bunch of papers spread out over the table. She glances up when I walk in.
"Feeling better?"
"A little," I answer honestly.
"Good," she says, "because I need you to tell me everything about the situation that led to your autoportation."
As I sink into the chair opposite hers, I meet her eyes straight on. I don't really want to tell her what just happened-we may be friendly at the moment, but that doesn't mean I'm about to share personal details of my love life. But, the truth is, I'm a little freaked out by the whole autoportationthing. It's not like I controlled it. I didn't even see it coming.
What if I accidentally autoportmyself to the Gobi Desert? Or the bottom of the ocean? Or the middle of a Mary-Kay convention? I shudder at the thought of all the makeup and pep.
Considering the risks of notunderstanding what happened, it's far less frightening to tell Stella the truth.
"Well, I went for a run," I begin. "To clear my head…"
For the next thirty minutes, I spill every last detail of the last few days, everything from the instant I turned Damian into a surfer dude up until I autoportedback to my room. I even trash on Adara and her boyfriend-stealing games, despite the fact that she and Stella are friends.
Stella doesn't say a word. Just scribbles notes in a pink spiral-bound while I babble on. And on. And on.
"All I could think of was being away from there and then…" I gesture toward my room. "I was."
Finished, I take a deep breath and slump back against my chair.
Wow. I feel a lot better just getting that off my chest.
"I'd like to try an experiment," Stella finally says. She places her pen in the center of the table. "Simple telekinesis.Pick this up."
When I start to reach for it, she says. "No. Not with your hands."
Okay. Concentrating all my energy on the pen, I try to move it toward me. Instead of sliding in my direction, though, it spins in circles for several seconds before flying off the table and heading point first into the nearest wall.
"I know what your problem is." she announces.
"Great," I'm glad someone does. Tell me."
"You were trying to movethe pen."
"Well, duh." I hold her gaze to keep from rolling my eyes-she is trying to help me, after all. That's what you told me to do."
"The approach is all wrong." She pushes back from the table and retrieves the pen from the wall. "You were thinking about moving the pen-which you did-when you need to think about having the pen in your hand."
I shake my head. "I don't get it."
Stella replaces the pen on the table. Focus your thoughts on the pen being in your hand already. Imagine it there. Believe it is already in your-"
While she is talking, I try what she suggests. I picture the pen in my hand, like I can already feel the cool plastic in my palm. And then, while Stella is still talking and I'm still skeptically expecting the pen to zip into the living room. I feel a gentle weight in my hand.
When I glance down, Stella's pen is lying across my palm.
"I did it," I say, stunned. Looking up at her, I repeat, "Omigods. I did it!"
She takes her pen back and starts scribbling more notes.
"Does that mean I'm cured?"
Glancing up, gray eyes sparkling, she says, "Not yet." Before I can slump in defeat, she adds. "But it's a start."
We share a smile of success. For the first time in my life, a success off the cross-country course feels almost as good as winning a race. Almost. But, like Stella said, it's a start.
Chapter 9
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
TELEKINESIS
SOURCE: ARES
The ability to move objects through nonphysical means. Ability varies depending on size and weight of object and distance moved. May be combined with Aerokinesis to magnify strength of ability. Generally the first power to manifestin young hematheos.
DYNAMOTHEOS STUDY GUIDE * Stella Petrolas
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
MONDAY MORNING I show up on the Academy steps early. Not that I'm eager for camp or anything, but after spending all last night-and the three previous nights-trying to get to sleep, I just couldn't stare at my ceiling a minute longer. At first I thought the Internet could be my diversion. But I finally disconnected Saturday afternoon after another unprintable blocked message and after moving the fifth e-mail from Griffin, unread, into the "Liars" folder. Even running myself to the point of exhaustion three days in a row hadn't helped.
At least camp will be a welcome distraction.
"Never thought I'd see you here early."
I turn at the sound of Xander's voice.
"Yeah. I could say the same about you," I say, leaning my head back against the cold marble column.
I hear his footsteps approach and then the sounds of him sitting next to me, but don't open my eyes. With exactly zero hours of sleep and coming down from a weekend-long emotional roller coaster, I'm not in the mood.
Apparently, though, he's not sensing my go-away vibes.
"Trouble in paradise?" he asks. Despite the cliche, he sounds serious.
"What do you care?"
"I don't."
I feel him lean back next to me against the column.
"Good," I say.
For a minute I think he's not going to say anything else. "Unless it's affecting your powers training."
Prying an eye open, I ask, "I beg your pardon?"
"If your problems with Blake are going to get in the way of your development, then we need to deal with this."
"My problems with Blake-" I shake my head, "with Griffinhave nothing to do with my powers."
"You don't think so?" He sounds all superior. Maybe he and Stella have more in common than I thought. "Let me tell you from experience that everythingthat affects your emotions affects your powers."
Right, I almost forgot about his experience.
My spine stiffens as I turn my full attention on him. "Which reminds me," I snap. "You could explain a little more about the test- and the consequences of failing it-since you've, you know, donethat."
His lavender eyes burn brighter for a second, but he doesn't betray any other reaction.
"My experience has nothing to do with yours," he says, his voice sincere. "The gods play their games as they see fit, and what happened to me is completely removed from whatever will happen to you. It is intensely personal."
"It could still be useful," I insist, "if I had some hint of what to expect."
I mean, seriously. The solstice is just days away. And even though I earned a handful of merit badges last week-mostly by accident-I feel completely unprepared. My minor success with Stella's pen isn't exactly a guarantee of success. After Xander's cryptic I-hope-you-never-find-out-about-the-consequences comment, getting smoted for accidental powers usage is losing ground on the fear scale in the face of suffering some unknown punishment for failing the test.
"Fine," he says with a sigh. "But it won't help you."
"We'll see."
"It was anunimportant Thursday in Level 10." His eyes get a faraway look, and it's like he's not here anymore. "The girl I'd been dating for three years walked up to m
e in the cafeteria and, in front of the entire school, announced she was dumping me for some descendant of Zeus because he was better-looking."
I blink at him a few times. When he doesn't continue. I say, "And… "
"And thirty seconds later, she and the new guy were deep in the heart of King Minus' labyrinth."
That seems like a bit of an overreaction.
"As I said, the test is intensely personal." He rubs a hand over his face, like he's suddenly very tired. "For anyone else, that wouldn't have been a big deal. For me… well, let's just say my family history makes me kind of sensitive about superficial stuff."
"Oh-kay…-
"My emotions got the better of me that day," he says. "And I spent the next ten months paying for the lapse. Without Stella's help, I'd probably still be there. If Blake is messing with your emotions, we need to take care of it."
There is something ominous in his tone.
"I don't need your-or anybody else's-help when it comes to Griffin."
"I'm not trying to provoke you, Phoebe," he says, leveling his hypnotic lavender gaze on me. "Just keep in mind that sometimes when you tell yourself things are fine, you're really just driving the tough stuff even deeper."
"Good morning, Xander," Stella's extra-cheerful voice calls out, breaking the spell of his mesmerizing eyes. As she reaches our spot at the base of the column, she looks at me. "Phoebe."
"Stella," Xander says as he climbs to his feet. After a quick nod, he strides off through the Academy's golden doors.
She watches him walk away with a sad, puppy-dog look in her eyes.
I must be feeling generous or something, because I say, "You should ask him out already.''
"What do you mean?" Startled, she looks at me. "What makes you think I'm interested in Xander?"
"Puh-lease," I say, pushing up from the cold marble. "Don't play innocent with me. I learned your tricks months ago."
She purses out her lips, like she wants to refute my claim. Then her gray eyes flick to the door Xander just walked through and her whole face softens.
"Do you-" Stella has never looked this vulnerable before. "Do you really think he might…"
"You never know until you try."
For several long seconds she watches me, evaluating me. Then she turns on her heel and hurries after him.
As soon as she's gone, I'm thinking about what Xander said. And wondering if he's right. Either way, I need to sort out my feelings.
What if I am just making assumptions about Griffin? What if I'm making a big huge deal out of what he's doing with Adara, when there's really a totally innocent explanation? But if there were, he would have told me. When he told me there was nothing romantic going on between him and Adara, he would have told me what was going on. Wouldn't he?
An image of Cesca flashes in my mind. A memory of last year, when I had a secret of my own that I couldn't tell my best friends.
What if it's something like that?
My head is going to spin off my neck if I keep going in circles like this.
"Hi, Phoebe!" Tansy bounds up the steps.
"Hey, Tansy," I reply, still a little distracted by my thoughts, but relieved to have someone nonconfusing to talk to. "What's up?"
"Ready for camp," she says. "Actually, I wanted to ask you a question."
Shaking off my thoughts of secrets, I say, "Shoot."
"How do you become a runner?"
I look at her and smile. "I don't think a person becomesa runner," I say. "You either run or you don't."
She bites her lower lip, like she's worried about what to say next.
"Do you run?" I ask.
Green eyes wide, she looks up at me and nods. Even though she's only twelve-not fully developed physically or anything- I can tell she's got the body of a runner. Long proportions, a little gawky. If she's got the drive, she could be an excellent runner.
I smile big. "Then you're a runner."
As soon as I say that, she positively beams. "I want to be just like you."
"No you don't," I reply. No one wants to be like me. Not on this island, anyway. At first it was because I wasn't one of them. Now it's because I am, but I'm still different. Higher up on the family tree. Closer to Olympus. Life was so much easier when I was nothing more exciting than a distance runner. "I'm not that great."
"I think you are."
Her voice is quiet and serious, like she just said the most important thing ever.
I study her, looking at me with a little hero worship in her eyes. It's been so long since someone-anyone-looked up to me that I almost don't know how to react. Back at Pacific Park, I'd been kind of amentor to a couple of the younger girls on the team. They looked to me for advice and encouragement. That feels like alifetime ago.
As I look into Tansy's serious eyes, my long-lost big sister instinct kicks in.
"I'm kinda looking for a training partner," I say as we head into the building. "You interested?"
"Really?" she says, her voice full of awe.
Since the position of my current training partner seems to be in question, then yeah. I wouldn't mind having someone else to run with. She might keep my mind off all the times Griffin and I ran together.
"Yeah," I say, trying to play it cool so she doesn't think I'm desperate. "I'm training for the Pythian Games trials and could use a buddy."
We head through the halls of the Academy, toward the courtyard, with her staring wide-eyed and mouth gaping. It's a miracle she doesn't walk into a trash can.
"Is that a yes?"
"Omigods, yes!" she squeals. "When do we start.?"
"I've been training in the morning." I push through the door leading to the courtyard. "Why don't you meet me at eight tomorrow on the cross-country course."
Tansy gasps, "Great!"
"Welcome, campers," Adara calls across the courtyard. She spears me with a vicious glance. "We'll be partnering for today's first exercise. Phoebe, you'll be pairing up with me."
Yeah, great.
* * *
"You're not even trying."
I glare at Adara. "Of course I'm trying."
I'm just not succeeding.
"I know how hard it is for you to accept that other people might know something more than you." she snaps, and if I could see her face I know she'd be sneering. "But believe me when I tell you, you're nottrying."
We've been standing back-to-back for the last half hour, with me trying to materialize a hazelnut latte into her hands. So far I've come up with a coconut, a jar of peanut butter, and-on my most successful attempt-a glass of milk.
I've trained my whole life. Physical training-running, weight lifting, nutritional planning-that's all second nature to me. But this mental training is totally different. I'm not used to consciously exercising my mind and my emotions. Is it any wonder this isn't going well?
"Maybe if you weren't badgering me the whole time," I snap back, pushing away from her and turning around, "I would be able to concentrate."
She spins around, her vapid blue eyes narrowing.
"I don't think this has anything to do with your concentration."
"Oh yeah," I say brilliantly. "What doesit have to do with then, your genuisness?"
Instead of answering, she crooks her finger at me before turning and stalking out of the courtyard. Like I'm going to follow heranywhere.
I cross my arms over my chest and stand my ground.
Suddenly, she shimmers-autoports-into place right in front of my nose.
"I have never been more mad at anyone in my life than I am at you right now," she grinds out through clenched teeth. "Unless you want to spend the next three days on holiday in the underworld, I suggest you join me in the hall. Now."
Then, just as quickly as she appeared, she disappears again.
I look helplessly around the courtyard, but all the ten-year-olds are focusing on the exercise, with Stella, Xander, and Miss Orivus closely supervising.
Okay, if Adara wants to have it out, I'll have
it out.
Stomping after her, I'm about ready to unleash my tirade when I catch sight of her eyes. They're all red. And full of tears.
That stops me in my tracks.
If she's so mad at me, why is she crying?
"No," she interrupts before I can say anything. "You listen to me, Phoebe Castro. We both know you're not my favorite person on this island, but I'm going to put that aside for the sake of someone I care about very much." She takes a deep breath, like she'scomposing herself, before saying. "What you are doing to Griffin is awful."
"What I'm doing to him?" I shake my head. "I'm not doing anything-"
"You're breaking his heart."
I freeze, midsentence. My mouth drops open. It's not just what she said, but how her voice cracks as she says it. Had anyone asked me fifteen seconds ago, I would have sworn up and down on a stack of gold medals that Adara Spencer was incapable of actual human emotion.
"You've ignored his e-mails and dodged his phone calls. He tried to catch you at home half a dozen times this weekend. He's been running every beach on this island hoping to find you."
I actually back up a step, shocked by the emotion in her outburst and by what she's telling me.
"I'm only going to say this once," she says quietly. "So listen up. Griffin Blake is head over heels about you. He would never treat you the way you've been treating him." Her voice drops another notch, so low I have to lean in to hear. "He would never doubt you."
"I don't-" I almost say that I don't doubt him, but that's not true. Over the past few days I've proven over and over that I do. Not that my doubts are unfounded. "You're right. I-I don't trust him."
"He doesn't deserve that."
What about me? What do I deserve? Lies and deception?
"Then why won't he tell me what you two have been doing together?"
Adara's gaze is unwavering. "Because I asked him not to."
Doesn't that confirm my doubts?
"Not because there's anything to conceal from you in particular." She tucks her blonde hair behind her ears. "Because I don't want anyone to know what I'm going through."
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