Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

“That glow around you at the end of the race.”
I freeze.
“Come on, Nola,” Cesca says as she pokes the unmoving Nola in
the ribs. “You saw that glow. What else could it have been?”
“No,” Nola insists. “I don’t believe it. Nothing you can do or say—”
Nola suddenly floats three feet off the ground before plopping
back down on a giant cushion that wasn’t there a few seconds ago.
I’m pretty sure I didn’t do that—wouldn’t know how to even if I
wanted to. I look over my shoulder and see Troy standing in the
doorway.
He winks.
I owe him one whopper of an apology.
Turning back to the girls, I say, “One second,” before running
across the courtyard.
“She looked like she could use a little undeniable proof,” he says
as I hurry over to him.
“Oh, Troy,” I say, hoping he’ll forgive me. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t
have accused you when I didn’t have any proof. I shouldn’t have
jumped to accusations at all, no matter what happened—”
“Hey,” he interrupts. “Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”
“It is,” I insist. “Especially since it wasn’t you . . . it was me.”
He smiles like I’m totally dense. “Well, yeah. I could have told you
that weeks ago.”
“You could have—” I shake my head. “How did you know?”
“A guy doesn’t come from a two-thousand-year line of doctors
without being able to tell a little about a person’s physiology.”
“Then why didn’t you . . .?”
He raises his hands in surrender. “I didn’t want to be the messen-
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