Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

ger. You scare me.” When I act appalled, he adds, “I figured you’d
find out in your own time. Besides, I don’t want to be on Petrolas’s
bad side. I’m the creative type—I’d never survive detention.”
“You,” I say, leaning forward and giving him a peck on the cheek,
“are a rock star in coward’s clothing.”
“Was that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Of course,” I insist.
He waves good-bye and I head back over to my girls.
“Who’s the yumsicle?” Cesca asks.
“That’s Troy,” I say. “He’s just a friend.”
“I suppose,” she says, “with a boy like Griffin around, Troy can be
just a friend. Too bad there aren’t boys like that at Pacific Park.”
“If there were boys like that at Pacific Park, Southern California
would be in for a world of trouble,” I say with a laugh.
Nola is staring at the ground, muttering silently to herself. If
I could read lips I’d probably hear a whole vocabulary I’ve never
heard from Nola before.
When she finally manages to speak, all she says is, “Okay. I
believe it.”
“I can’t believe you went this long without telling us,” Cesca says.
And I feel horrible about that. “Like I said, it wasn’t my secret to
tell. If Mom and Damian hadn’t given me the go-ahead I wouldn’t
be telling you now. It kills me to keep secrets from you guys, but I
swear this is the only one.” I bite my lip. “Only there’s one last part
of it.”
They both look up at me eagerly.
Closing my eyes, I exhale fully. “I just found out . . . like five minutes
ago . . . that well, I’m . . .” I suck in a quick breath—better to rip
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