Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

At least I don’t have to dress that way. My personal uniform of
jeans and a T-shirt suits me just fine. On the rare occasion of a
more formal event, Mom usually has to bribe me into dressy pants.
A dress would cost her World Cup tickets.
Don’t think she won’t have to pay to get me into a bridesmaid’s
dress for the wedding.
“Tyrant is steadfast about tradition,” Nicole whispers.
Which maybe explains why Ms. T is giving her a dirty look. With
her short, bleached blonde hair—in an I’m-a-little-bit-punk and not
at all I’m-a-cheerleader kind of way—half an arm of hot pink and
white jelly bracelets, and silver glitter eyeshadow, Nicole is far from
traditional.
“Thanks for the heads up,” I say back. “So, are the teachers
here . . . I mean, is Ms. T a—”
“Descendant?” Nicole asks. “Oh yeah. She’s direct lineage from
Athena. We’re talking serious bookworm.”
“I thought Athena was the goddess of war.”
“You don’t think Tyrovolas could kick some ass?” Nicole laughs.
“I’m just teasing. War is only part of Athena’s domain. She’s also the
goddess of wisdom, which makes her a big busybody with everything
that goes on at the Academy.”
Navigating this school is going to be a lot tougher than I ever
imagined. I thought at least the teachers would be normal, but no
luck there.
I need a new student handbook.
And the classwork? Let’s just say I’ll be struggling to maintain
the B average I need to get into USC. Ms. T’s syllabus looks like a
work of world literature itself and we’ll be reading more books in
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