Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

When Damian leaves to take Nola and Cesca back to Athens and
their plane, Mom goes with him. I go running.
As I lace up my Nikes I stop and stare at that perfect little swish.
For years it’s meant so much to me—a symbol of my running, my passion,
and my connection to my dad. Now I know that all those things
are part of me that can’t be contained by a scrap of colorful leather.
Quickly knotting my laces, I head out the front door and toward
the beach.
As my adrenaline flows, my mind clears and it’s like every moment
of my life leading to this moment makes perfect sense. Nike is in my
soul. In my blood. And so is my dad. Maybe I feel so close to him
when I run because that’s when he’s closest to me—that’s when my
Nike genes kick into full gear, and that’s my dad.
I smile and shake my head. I’m a descendant of Nike!
Maybe Mom was right—about not telling me sooner about my
heritage. I mean, if I’d been labeled as a Nike I’d have been tossed
in with the Ares crowd in a flash. Nicole and Troy and I might
never have become friends. They would have been off-limits to me.
And the truce I have with Stella would have been completely fake.
We might not be best friends, but at least I know how to read her
bullcrap and that she is genuinely starting to like me—even if it’s
against her will.
Reaching the rocky cliffs at the far end of the beach, I sink down
into the powder-soft sand. Sure, Griffin and I could have still ended
up together since we’d have been in the same clique, but nothing
else about my life would be—
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