Free Goddess Boot Camp by Tera Lynn Childs Page A

personal berating. “I’m superpowerful. What does that mean?”
    “It means your powers are harder to control. They work with very little effort.” She flicks her highlight-heavy hair over her shoulder. “You need to learn how to control them properly so they stop unintentionally going off.”
    That makes my powers sound like a burglar alarm. Like if I accidentally open the door, I have three seconds to enter the code or the police will report to the scene. At least I don’t have sirens blaring every time my powers mess up. Although that would at least let me know when it’s happened.
    “How exactly do I do that?” I ask. I’ve been training for months, and they’re still out of control. “It’s not like I haven’t been trying.”
    “But you haven’t had my undivided attention.” She smiles smugly. “I can work miracles when I have full focus and a plan.”
    I shiver at the thought of being Stella’s full focus.
    “What makes you think you know the magic formula? No one else does.”
    “Because I’ve done it before.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean, Daddy told you there was another student who had to pass the gods’ test, right?”
    I gasp. “That was you?”
    “No, of course not.” She scowls, like how could I be so stupid? “Under my tutelage, that student passed the test.”
    Tutelage? That sounds too much like torture.
    But it’s kind of reassuring to know that other student passed the test. With Stella’s help. Plus, that means she can dish some more details on the test. Like what that test will be like and what might happen if I fail the test.
    “With this other student,” I begin. “How did they—”
    “I’m going to go through some of my old training lesson plans this afternoon.” She cuts off my question and checks her watch. “Why don’t we meet back home at six to discuss the plan?”
    “Can’t,” I say, stifling a growl. She always acts so superior. “Griffin and I have a training run.”
    Stella turns on her stern face. “I really think this is more important—”
    “No.” As if anything is more important to me than running. “I’ll do whatever it takes to learn to control my powers, but I am not giving up running. The Pythian Games trials are less than two weeks away and I plan on qualifying. I can’t do that if I don’t train every day.”
    She looks like she wants to argue. Or like she’s reading my thoughts.
    Read this: No, no, no, no, no.
    “Fine,” she says, exasperated. “How about after dinner? You will be home for dinner, won’t you?”
    “Sure,” I say, even though I wonder how dinner will go when it’s just the two of us. We had plenty of dinner-table battles when our respective parents were there to intercede. Who knows what could happen when we’re alone. Hesper might have to intervene.
    “And if you’re late,” she says with a wicked smile, “I might reconsider my decision to not seek vengeance for my wedding hair color.”
    An image flashes in my mind, an image of me with hot-pink streaks in my dark brown hair. At this point, I’m not sure if the image is a result of my overactive imagination or if there’s some power that lets her plant it in my mind—I need to read that study guide—but either way it’s not very appealing.
    I give Stella my best glare. “Oh, I’ll be there.”
     
     
     
    “Did you have your talk with Adara?” I ask Griffin as we start our run. I swallow my irritation, trying for innocuous. After dwelling on my reaction all afternoon, I finally decide I have to face it head-on. I can’t pretend it never happened, but I will give him a chance to explain.
    “Yeah.”
    That’s it. No details.
    “Was it something about school?” I probe. No response. “Or summer?”
    “No.”
    We jog in silence for several long seconds. Just when I think he’s not going to offer anything more, he says, “It’s a personal thing, Phoebes. Adara’s going through some stuff and I’m helping her out. There’s