Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

While everyone moves to a machine, Adara and I stand glaring
at each other.
“Get moving, girls,” Coach Z shouts. “You start on the bench.”
He points to the bench press in the far corner of the weight
room, the only station not taken. Deciding that my training is more
important than my animosity, I turn and head for the machine.
I’m just settling in on the bench when Adara joins me.
The first whistle blows and I reach up to take the bar.
“Well, well,” Adara says, making no move to spot me. “If it isn’t
the happy home-wrecker.”
Ignoring her, I lift the bar off the brackets and start counting.
One. Two.
“Don’t think you can just steal my boyfriend without consequences,
kako.”
“I didn’t—” Six. “Steal—” Seven. “Anything.”
“What?” She peers down at me. “Did you think I wouldn’t hear
about what happened on Saturday?”
“I don’t—” Twelve. “Really—” Thirteen. “Care.”
“It was quite funny, actually,” she says, her voice mocking. “Griffin
could hardly stop laughing long enough to tell me.”
“What?” I let the bar clatter back into place on the brackets.
Sitting up, I look around the room, finding Griffin and Vesna at
the lateral pull station. He is watching Vesna pull like three hundred
pounds. For a second he turns and glances at me, but then
quickly looks away.
Then again, he might have been looking at Adara.
“Castro,” Coach Z shouts, “you’re still on the—”
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