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Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

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CHAPTER 8<br />

“PLEASE PUT AWAY YOUR BOOKS and take out several<br />

sheets of blank paper.” Mr. Dorcas’s voice is monotone. “We are<br />

having a pop quiz on The Republic.”<br />

The whole class groans.<br />

Me? I just carry out his instructions with the resignation of a<br />

beaten dog. Since the moment I thought my life couldn’t get worse,<br />

the world, this school, and everyone on this island have conspired<br />

to prove me monumentally wrong.<br />

No one but Nicole and Troy are talking to me, though Troy<br />

hasn’t even been at lunch because he’s getting extra tutoring in<br />

Chemistry. I keep e-mailing and IMing Cesca and Nola every night<br />

in the hope that I’ll eventually wear them down. Mom is giving me<br />

my distance, not that I mind, and Damian has been so busy with<br />

school business that I haven’t even seen him in days. And, though<br />

I’m not mourning the fact that Stella’s stopped speaking to me,<br />

I’m starting to miss our sparring sessions. They’re better than no<br />

human contact at all.<br />

<strong>My</strong> running times have not improved, despite the millions of<br />

hours of extra practice. Coach Lenny assures me I’m just at a pla-

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