"Where were you?" I demanded.

"Let's not do this here, Phoebe," Justin had said. "Why don't we go out to my car and-"

"No," I shouted, hands fisted on my hips, on the silver satin of the bustier dress that had taken me weeks to find. The perfect dress. "I deserve to know."

He'd hesitated, deciding whether to lie.

Just like Griffin did tonight.

Only tonight feels infinitely worse. Because I love Griffin infinitely more.

That realization clenches around my heart.

"I-" He jams his fingers through his curls. "Phoebe, I can't tell you."

Everything inside me stills.

At least Justin had the decency to confess dumping me for Mitzi Busch because her knees weren't Super Glued shut like mine. Griffin wasn't even pretending to admit the truth.

"Then I don't believe you." My heart splinters a little with every word.

"I can't make you believe me," he says, dropping his hands and taking a step back. "I thought we were past the distrusting stage. I thought you knew me better than this. Better than anyone."

I can't look away from his blue eyes, a little less bright thanks to the betrayal I see there. But the truth is, he lied to me. More than once. And now, even though he's admitted to lying to me, he won't tell me the whole truth. He's not the only one who feels betrayed.

"So did I," I say, turning away and walking to my desk.

"Phoebe, I didn't mean to-"

"I'd like you to leave." My voice cracks as I add, "Now."

I stand in front of my desk, afraid to move until he does-afraid that my heart will shatter completely. For a long time there's just silence, stillness in the air, as I can feel him watching me.

"I'm not Justin," he whispers.

Then, all of a sudden, it's like a vacuum sucks all the air out of my room. The next thing I hear is the click of my door closing behind him as he leaves.

I collapse into my desk chair, folding my arms over my laptop and laying my check on the smooth, plastic surface. My heart feels like it's been ripped out of my chest. The oracle was wrong. Griffin and I aren't fated for anything more than heartache.

It's not until I feel the wetness on my arm that I realize I'm crying on my laptop. The last thing I need is to fry my connection to the outside world. I sit up, wipe away my tears, and lift the top on my laptop. I've never needed Nola and Cesca more in my life, and if one of them isn't online, I don't know what I'll do.

But when I log in to chat, I see blank little faces next to their screen names.

Right. Cesca's probably in Paris by now. Nola's probably at the library doing research for her study. How can they both have so much great stuff going on when my life is a mess?

Yeah, I know that's totally self-centered. It's not fair for me to begrudge them good stuff. Especially since we're best friends.

Not one person on my friends list is online. Not Cesca or Nola, not Nicole, not Troy. Not even the gorgon cheerleader queen-trust me, if I could get Adara off my friends list I would, but the Academy IM system seems to have a twisted sense of humor about this. How can everyone be unavailable when I need them?

While I'm staring at the screen through tear-fogged eyes, a yellow smiley face shows up next to Nola's screen name.

Thank the gods!

I open up anew chat window.


LostPhoebe: Nola!

GranolaGrrl: hey Phoebes

GranolaGrrl: what's up?

LostPhoebe: I think Griffin and I just broke up

GranolaGrrl: omigods, what happened??


I bite my lip to keep from crying. More.

LostPhoebe: he's cheating on me

GranolaGrrl: of course he's not!

LostPhoebe: he is

LostPhoebe: with Adara

GranolaGrrl: his ex? that's nuts

GranolaGrrl: he's crazy about you

LostPhoebe: he's been spending lots of time with her

GranolaGrrl: maybe there's a reasonable explanation


Nola always sees the good in people. While this is a great trait in a best friend-she always looks past my bad attitude when I'm in a crappy mood-she's not the most discerning when it comes to character. She blindly believes the best until presented with incontrovertible proof. Sometimes not even then.


LostPhoebe: there's more

LostPhoebe: he was in her dorm room this afternoon

LostPhoebe: when he told me he was helping his aunt

GranolaGrrl: are you sure?

GranolaGrrl: did you ask him about it?

LostPhoebe: he admitted it

LostPhoebe: he says it's not what I think

LostPhoebe: but he won't tell me what it *is*

GranolaGrrl" I'm so sorry sweetie


New tears rush to my eyes. If even Nola is willing to accept that I'm right, then all my niggling doubts are gone. How could I have been so stupid over a guy… again?


GranolaGrrl: I know how much he means to you

LostPhoebe: guess it wasn't mutual

GranolaGrrl: you never know

GranolaGrrl: he might still surprise you

LostPhoebe: doubt it

GranolaGrrl: promise me you'll give him a chance to explain

LostPhoebe: I did

LostPhoebe: he wouldn't

GranolaGrrl: give him one more chance

GranolaGrrl: for me


I almost say I won't. I don't want to. But for Nola, only for Nola.

I will.


LostPhoebe: okay

LostPhoebe: for you

GranolaGrrl: I need to go

GranolaGrrl: you okay?

LostPhoebe: I'II be fine

GranolaGrrl: I'll be online again later

GranolaGrrl: love you

LostPhoebe: love you too

LostPhoebe: thanks


I stare at the chat screen until her smiley face disappears.

Instead of feeling better, reassured, I feel a little more empty after chatting with Nola. She didn't exactly say what I wanted to hear. That's Nola, though. She always says and does what's right, not what's convenient or comforting.

Almost automatically, needing something to keep my mind busy, I click on the icon to check my e-mail. Three new messages. One from Adara-no thank you. I click on the message and am about to drag it to the trash when I see the folder I made when I was mad at Griffin last year. "Liars." I drop here-mail in there. Even if she hasn't lied to me, I bet she would if I gave her the chance.

The second e-mail is from Mrs. Philipoulos.


To: Library Employees

Cc: headm3ster@thedcademy.gr

Bcc: lostphoebe@theacademy.gr

From: librarylady@theacademy.gr

Subject: Secret Archives Access


Former Academy library employees,


Upon a recent inspection of the library secret archives, I have discovered two missing volumes in the Mount Olympus records. If you have any knowledge of the theft or whereabouts for these volumes, please contact me immediately. No punitive action will be taken if the volumes are returned within the week.

Also, please remember that your right to access the secret archives depends on your status as a library employee. If you are no longer working in the library, you should not access the secret archives for ANY reason.


Yours,

Philippa Philipoulos


At least she only blind-copied me. Damian won't know I'm involved. I wouldn't want him to get suspicious and rush home from his honeymoon. The last thing I need is Mom and Damian nosing around in the middle of my trying to find out what happened to Dad.

Mrs. Philipoulos said two volumes are missing. Clearly, one of them is Dad's trial record. I wonder what else was taken. The last e-mail is yet another blocked message.


To: lostphoebe@theacademy.gr

From: [Blocked]

Subject: [No Subject]


Urian Nacus will not be able to decrypt my identity before our meeting.

Do not be late.


Just for ducks, I click print. When the blank page spits out, I slide it back into the paper tray. I'm so not surprised. If e-mails one and two wouldn't print, it would be some kind uf divine intervention if the third did.

Closing down my computer, I decide I need to get out of my room, out of this house. I need the clarity of thought that only running can bring. I grab the zip-up sweatshirt off the back of my chair. As I hurry through the living room, I try not to make eye contact. Xander is back and I'm not up for conversation. I can see him and Stella sitting on the couch-Stella flirtatiously turned to face him with one foot tucked up underneath her and Xander nonflirtatiously focused on whatever he's writing in a spiral notebook.

Maybe I can get to the front door-

"Phoebe," Stella calls out before I can escape, "are you okay'?"

"Fine," I say, hoping she'll take the hint.

Of course subtlety is not her strong suit.

"Griffin looked pretty upset when he left." She climbs off the couch and approaches me. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she asks. "Is everything all right?"

"Just peachy," I say, and I can't quite keep the emotion out of my voice.

But instead of pouncing on my trauma-I can just see her gloating to Adara over my continued torment-she puts her hand on my shoulder and says, "I'm sorry." And then shocks the Hades out of me by adding, "If you ever need someone to talk to…"

"Sure." I try to smile-and hide my shock at her apparently sincere offer. "Thanks."

She smiles sympathetically.

"I'm going for a run," I say, uncomfortable with this friendly Stella. I jerk my hand back over my shoulder. "I need some fresh air."

Xander looks up at me, his lavender eyes wide and intent. He looks like he might say something, but I turn and head outside before he gets the chance.

I take the front steps two at a time. Those same steps where Griffin almost first kissed me. Right after I found out he was a duty-bound descendant of Hercules. Right before I found out I was part of some elaborate bet between him and Stella and Adara. I should have listened to my gut the first time. Then my heart wouldn't be shattering right now.

Maybe I shouldn't be surprised at our rocky end. We had a pretty rocky beginning, even if the time between was smooth and wonderful.

"Phoebe," Xander calls out. Then, when I don't stop, he shouts. "Castro!"

I. Have. Had. Enough.

Whipping around and jogging back to the porch, I snap, "What?"

"I'm sorry," he says-like he knows an apology is the only thing that can undermine my fury. "I shouldn't have stormed out like that earlier. You're going through a tough enough time without my making things worse."