Free Goddess Boot Camp by Tera Lynn Childs

“I’ve been a Goddess Boot Camp counselor for three years, and I haven’t failed a camper yet. I‘m not about to start with you.”
    “So?” I ask, stealing a glance at Griffin and Adara. I nearly pounce when he puts his hand on her shoulder.
    “So?” Stella repeats. “You pose a somewhat more”—she searches for the word—“challenging educational situation.”
    “Why is that?” I ask absently.
    How can Griffin do that, knowing I’m right here watching them? The ex-couple move down the path and ’round the corner of the building, disappearing from my sight. I can’t believe this.
    “Because—and it kills me to say this,” Stella says, letting out a severely exasperated sigh, “you have the most natural power of any hematheos I have ever known.”
    Griffin and Adara instantly forgotten, I turn on Stella.
    “What?”
    I can’t have heard her right. That sounded like . . . a compliment.
    “Most kids have trouble bringing their powers to the surface. Yours live on the surface. They bubble out when you’re not even trying.”
    Is that envy in her voice?
    “That’s highly unusual. Rare, even. Once you learn to harness them, you’ll be at least as powerful as I am.” She purses one side of her mouth, like she can’t believe what she’s about to say. “Maybe more.”
    “I’m sorry.” I shake my head. That definitely sounded like a compliment. “What?”
    “You heard me,” she retorts. “I won’t say it again.”
    “Wow,” I say, in utter shock. Stella actually complimented me. I didn’t think that was in her vocabulary. I’m surprised she didn’t spontaneously combust at the effort.
    “Earth to Phoebe,” she says, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “Focus on the bigger picture here, please.”
    I scowl. “How do you know what I’m focusing on?”
    She just cocks her eyebrows, as if to say, How do you think?
    Then it hits me. Her dad has this uncanny ability to read minds—or emotions or whatever he’s admitting to at the time. She probably inherited that talent from him.
    “What, is reading minds like a Hera thing?”
    “Didn’t you review the study guide?” She crosses her arms over her chest, daring me to try sarcasm again. “ Psychospection, the ability to see into the minds of others, is a power derived from the queen of the gods.”
    “Oh.” And I thought I was kidding.
    That would be a pretty cool power to have. No more trying to guess what Griffin is thinking or what Adara’s motives are. Too bad I’m not a descendant of Hera.
    “All hematheos have this power,” Stella says, answering my thoughts. “To some degree, anyway. It’s how the powers thing works. In addition to a primary ability from your specific ancestor god, we have powers derived from all twelve Olympians—which you would know if you had read the study guide. The closer you are on the tree, the stronger all the powers.”
    And I assumed the powers were more of a vague, limitless thing. I never thought about there being different kinds. Or where they came from.
    “So I can read minds?”
    “Not likely.” She snickers. “Only descendants of Hera can literally read minds. Most hematheos just sense basic emotions or general ideas.”
    Good. The last thing I need is everyone reading my mind. It’s bad enough if Stella can. Especially when I’m thinking about how much she—
    “Wait,” I say, remembering what caused the whole living-birthday-cake incident. “Does that mean you—”
    “Yes.”
    One word. She didn’t even hear the question, but I know she knows.
    “I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it. I may not like Stella all the time, but she is the closest thing to a sister that I have. Besides, I don’t like being mean to anyone—except Adara, of course. It’s bad karma or something. And I don’t need to invite more bad luck than I already have.
    “The bigger picture,” she prods. “You can apologize profusely after you pass the test.”
    “Oh, right.” I set aside my