Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

“Nothing so dramatic,” Damian says, smiling and proving once
again that he can read emotions fluently, “I assure you.”
I’m not fully appeased, but I guess I have to take his word for it
at the moment. If the time comes to enact “countermeasures” I’ll
warn Cesca ahead of time so she can flee the country or whatever.
For now, I just smile and nod as I gather up my backpack to
leave.
“Oh, Phoebe,” Damian calls as I walk to the door. When I turn
around, he adds, “Try not to accidentally reveal any more of our
secrets. If you do, I just might have to try the concrete blocks
method.”
My jaw drops. “Hey, you said you could only read emotions!”
Damian, cryptic as ever, just smiles and returns his attention to
work. How like him.
I’m lucky I don’t keep a diary for him to read.
As I close the door behind me I hear, “Everything I need to know
is stored in your hippocampus anyway.”
Because I can’t think of any better response I slam his door.
Believe it or not, I’m starting to feel sympathy for Stella. She’s
had to live with him her whole life.
I only have to endure him for nine months.
“Damian and I have been talking, Phoebola,” Mom says. She’s sitting
in my room, watching me try to do homework.
“Yeah,” I answer absently, wondering what Plato meant when
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