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“Earned?”

“Those angels who have served with impeccable grace and kindness can
earn their wings.
It takes many centuries of perfection and dedication to reach that level.”

I understoo
d why he had tears in his eyes.
Now,
he would never earn his wings.

“What does it mean, if an angel has earned his wings?”

He snapped out of his sadness, but I sensed his carefree attitude was forced. “It’s m
ostly used as a status symbol. Silly, really.
It just shows that you were very good at wh
atever tasks you were assigned.
A bit like a bonus for good work, that everyone else can see.”

I knew th
ere was more to it than that.
I also knew, whatever it was,
he didn’t want to tell me. I had to ask.
“Is that all?”

He knew he was caught.
“Well, legend has it that wings can be traded for wishes.”

I mulled it over for a heartbeat. “So if you earned your wings, you could wish to be human and we could be togethe
r forever.
But you’ll never earn your wings, because of falling in love with me while you’re an angel.”

“Exactly.
It’s ironic, isn’t it?” Marty’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“And there is no other way to earn your wings?”

“Not that I know of.
Did you have any more questions?”

I sensed h
e didn’t want to talk anymore. He looked subdued and pensive.
I stood up and walked aro
und the table to where he sat.
I carefully perched myself on
his thigh and kissed his cheek. “No more questions tonight.”
Our eyes locked and t
he room suddenly seemed warmer.
He wra
pped his hands around my waist.
I could feel his heartbeat speeding up and his sad
ness transforming into longing.
He lifted me up and, kissing me all
the way, carried me to bed.

Chapter 12

We slept,
curled up together, all night.
It was as though we were both trying to make the most of the physical contact we could have, rather than w
ish for what we couldn’t have.
I think we had both, finally, accepted th
at this was how it was for us.

The next day, being a Saturday, should have been a day to indulge in spending as much time as possible together, but unfortunately, even that si
mple pleasure was unavailable.
Donna had schedule
d a rehearsal to last all day.
I was reluctant to leave Marty’s arms, the warmth of o
ur bed, but it had to be done.
As I started to move away from him, Marty wrapped his arms around me tighter.

“Stay,”
he mumbled, still half asleep.
I snuggled back down against his warm chest, only his thin t-shirt separating our flesh, my ear resting against his body, his heartbeat echoing its constant, b
eautiful pulse along my cheek.
I could afford to lie here for
another ten minutes, I decided.
Life couldn’t be better, really.

Too quic
kly, it was time to leave him.
I couldn’t risk the wrath of Donna – not if I
had to put up with her all day.
We’d have tonight to pick up where we were leaving off.

Marty stirred as I moved out of the bed, catching my hand in his and kissing it
as I walked into the en-suite.
I didn’t have time to wash my hair, so I tied it up into a ponytail, whic
h hid the worst of my bed hair.
I brushed my teeth whilst wai
ting for the shower to heat up.
I was in and out of th
e en-suite within five minutes.
When I walked back into the bedroom, Marty was still in bed, but now he was sitting up, rea
ding from the book I gave him.

“Good morning,”
he smiled, “you look gorgeous. Come here.”
I crawled
across the bed to embrace him.
He kissed my neck.

“Stop it; I won’t want to leave…” I said the words, but it was a feeble attempt at restraint and I let h
im pull me back into his arms. I sighed.
This was how life should be.

“What time do you have to be there?” Marty mumbled, as he continued showering my shoulders with kisses.

“Nine.
And you know she will hold it against me if I’m late.”

“I know.
I wish we could stay like this forever.” He held me tighter.

“So do I.
Are you reading something interesting?”

“A poem.
‘
Love’s Secret
’
.
It’s very poignant.” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“In what way?”

“The opening line.
‘
Never seek to tell thy love, love that can never be told
’
.
It’s us.”

“It is.” I wanted to change the subject; I didn’t want him to get melancholy. “Are you going
to come to the rehearsal later?
I’d love to see you charm Donna.” I smiled.

“Of course.
I
’ll be there in the afternoon.”
He closed the
book and kissed my fingertips.
“Have fun.”

“Oh, I will.” I rolled my eyes and waved as I left the room. His chuckle followed me down the stairs.

I made it to the rehears
al with a few minutes to spare.
I sat down with some of the girls from the chorus and listened to their conversation for a few moments, managing to catch some
of their names in the process.
Nobody had been told which scenes were due to be set today, so there was an a
ir of slight panic in the room.
I changed out of my Converse trainers and pl
aced my feet in my dance shoes.
The movement, so small and ordinary, evoked memories from a simpler time, the time before my parents died, be
fore Marty came into my life.
My life had changed beyond recognition since the la
st time I had worn these shoes.
I’d experienc
ed the worst and best of times.
The feet I now put into the shoes had been on a difficult journey.

I was pulled out of my reverie by the entrance of
Donna.
I noticed the other students sitting up, paying more attention and
I shuffled slightly in my seat.
I was ready for
anything she could throw at me.
This play was just for fun – it didn’t matter to me, nothing m
attered as long as I had Marty.

“I’d like to
start with ‘
The Chorus Isn’t Enough
’ and then recap the numbers we did yesterday.”

Those needed on the staging area made their way there, while the rest of us grabbed our scripts and knuck
led down with memorising lines.
Donna was in her usual foul mood, making the studen
ts currently rehearsing uneasy.
Again, I wondered why she was in this job if she hated it so much, then I remembered what Marty had said – she was bitter and sorrowful ove
r her own missed opportunities.
It was hard to picture Donna as a bright, youn
g thing, with dreams and goals.
I could only see the tyrant in front of me.

Donna berated the girl rehearsing so much that she cried, meaning it was pointl
ess continuing with that scene.
She shouted at them to go and rehearse outside and then ca
lled a recap of ‘
In The Spotlight
’
.
I took deep breaths as I m
ade my way to the staging area.
The
other girls looked nervous too.
This was the most uncomfortable working a
tmosphere I’d ever encountered.
The room had a negative energy.

“Right girls, let’
s get this car crash over with.
Do as much as you can remember, I don’t want to wast
e any more time on this number.
From the beginning.”

In my head, I made a decision.
I would not al
low Donna to get under my skin.
I’d lost my parents and nothing in my life
would ever be as hard as that.
My newfound confidence soared out o
f my voice and filled the room.
I imagined my confidence flowing out of me, filling the air with a golden, glittering light, encompassing my cast mates and al
tering the energy of the room.

Before I knew it, the song was over and it was
time to meet Donna’s criticism.
The only sounds in the room were the hum of the lights, the buzz of the now-empty speakers, and the animated breathing of my cast mates.

“OK.
Can we see your solo, Claudia?”

I guessed that was as close to praise as
we were likely to get.
I placed myself on the same spot as the day before, closed my eyes and
, in my head, I pictured Marty.
The song was now so interwoven with him in my min
d, I couldn’t separate the two.
My golden light shimmered out from me as I sang
, filling the air around me.
I felt every word, every not
e, every heartbeat of the song.
I not only matched my performance of y
esterday, I felt I bettered it.
As soon as I hit the last note, I felt the sharp intake of breath from those watching and heard the sound of clapping hands, as the
students broke into applause.

“Don’t give her a big head,” Donna’s voice silenced the praise of my pee
rs. “It was acceptable at best.
Take twenty minutes for
lunch, then we will set ‘
Starlet
’ – if you don’t know it,” she looked pointedly at me, “learn it in this break.”

I struggled to stop myself from rolling my eyes
and smiled back at her instead.
I knew the song – it was one of the few I knew well before we s
tarted working on this project.
If we’d had a different director, I would have enjoyed learning
a routine to go with the song.
I looked to the door and saw the only sight tha
t could have lifted my spirits.
Marty.

He smiled when he saw me a
nd I couldn’t help but respond. He made my day.
His gaze shifted from m
e to Donna and then back again.
I nodded, underst
anding what he was about to do.
There was the slightest dip of his head in acknowledgement of
me and he walked over to Donna.
The other students were hurrying out of the door, desperate to escape Donna as quickly as possible, even though twenty minutes on
ly represented a short respite.
Perhaps it was the eerie quietness of the drama studio, but as I sat down to remove my dance shoes, I could hear every hushed word Marty said to Donna.

“Excuse me, may I have a quick word?” Marty smiled his radiant, dimply smile at Donna and I felt a stab of jealousy.

“Who are you?” Donna’s short ans
wer couldn’t hide her intrigue.
I guessed it had been a long time since so
meone smiled at her like that.

“I’m Claudia’s h
ouse mate.
Marty Glean.” He held out his hand and, ra
ther reluctantly, she shook it.
I hated her touching him.

“Oh? And why are you here?” Donna wasn’t letting down her defences just yet.

“Well,” I could feel him looking deep into her eyes and I focused on my shoe buckle to stop me from interfering, “I was wondering if it might be alright if I wa
tch the end of some rehearsals.
Claudia doesn’t drive and with these rehearsals finishing so late, I’d be worried
about her walking home alone.”
His voice was l
ike honey melting. Golden, oozing, mesmerising. Almost syrupy.
I could feel bile rising in my throat and quickly grabbed a gulp of water to wash it down.

“Yes,” Donna’s voice sounded quieter, silkier, “I can
understand your point of view.
Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Actually, I was wondering how Claudia was doing in rehearsals.”

“She’s better than I expected.
For such a young, immature girl.”

“For such a young girl,” his voice had developed an edge I couldn’t identify, “she’s been thr
ough hell and back.
She c
ould do with a bit of kindness.
She’s been
through more than most people.
And, unlike others, she isn’t the one to blame for t
he way her life has turned out.
She’s doing brilliantly at
putting her life back together.
And she s
hould be congratulated.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant on my acting or putting my life back together
, but I loved him all the same.
I’d never heard anyone champion me this way before.