She Speaks to Angels (13 page)

“
Well, there you go. Happy?”

“
I’m glad you opened up. I’m here for you. You can trust me.”

“
Trust me enough that I can come over Saturday night?”

“
Yeah, I’ll talk to Mom.” How could Mom turn him down now? He needed me, and her, in his life. His own mother was killed in a car accident. Mom could empathize; her husband had died suddenly. Dameon needed a mother figure, and Mom would be perfect for him. Certain Mom would approve now, I was grinning as the bell rang.

By fifth period, I had exhausted my mind and was dizzy with ideas on how to come out of Journalism without receiving an F for an uncompleted assignment. Slinking into my seat, I sighed in protest.

“
Ali Maney.” Zimmerman hovered over me like my P.E. coach when he expected me to hit a ball harder than I could.

“
I...”

“
Ali and I are working on a project about the mayoral elections. We’ll have the final results on Monday,” Nathaniel interjected. He paid attention after all.

“
Alright; I’ll expect the assignment Monday then.”

“
Yes.” Nathaniel nodded with certainty, like he’d done this a thousand times.

“
Thanks.” I whispered as Zimmerman moved away. I stopped biting the inside of my mouth. It was a perfect lie. The mayoral elections would not be concluded until after the weekend, and that gave us time to concoct a finished assignment. Why hadn’t I thought of it?

All through Journalism I passed notes back and forth to Nathaniel. I hadn’t written on actual paper in eons. Usually, notes were taken on eReaders or laptops. I crumbled the first note a bit in my hands as I laid it on his desk. Zimmerman had his back to us while he wrote on the white board, highlighting important facts from our reading assignment.

Taking the note in his hands, Nathaniel read.

Didn’t Zimmerman say you were from Washington?

He scribbled something and passed the note upside down back to me.

Yeah, why?

Dameon said he came from Washington, too.

So?

So, don’t you think it’s odd...that you, Kian, and Krysta all come from Washington as transfers and Dameon also transferred from Washington?

He shrugged as his doe-eyed expression dropped. I shoved another note onto his desk.

Did you all know each other?

His usual bronze hue paled as he passed back another note.

No, we must have lived in different cities. Besides, Kian didn’t really transfer from Washington.

He didn’t? Where then?

He’s from New York.

Why would he lie about it? He said you all were an adopted family?

Well, technically no. Krysta and I met him in New York after we left Washington. But the paperwork is in the mail. He is in the process of being adopted.

All of a sudden I became fascinated with Kian. The idea that he wasn’t exactly who he said intrigued me. Not in the same way bad boy Dameon intrigued me, but in a way that left my curiosity spinning. I had just assumed they all three came to New York together. But there was more to the story. I grabbed Nathaniel’s latest note just as Zimmerman turned around on his heel and hawk-eyed his class, as if he sensed suspicious activity. I held my breath. Minutes later, after ruffling through papers on his desk, he returned to the white board. I breathed.

Nathaniel read my inquisitive note...

So, he is from New York? And doesn’t have any biological parents?

A forlorn expression crossed Nathaniel’s face when he handed me the last note.

Yes and no. They died in a fire.

Amused that Kian had lived in the same city as me all our lives, I finally realized what Kian meant in the cafe when he said they were an adopted family. At first, the word ‘
adopted’
didn’t really sink in, between all the talk of stoners and loosely spilled words and my obsession with Dameon. It didn’t really hit me that he had no parents. Kian lived on the difficult streets of New York with no real guidance other than maybe a foster family here and there. Then it occurred to me that Krysta and Nathaniel didn’t know their biological parents either. Suddenly, I felt very sad for the newbies.

When the bell rang for sixth period I plopped into my Calculus seat. Mathematically inclined, the whole nerd-persona didn’t work well for my popularity either. But somehow Dameon fixed that. More interested in sharing the latest news with my girlfriends than in derivatives and limits, I pulled out my cell and typed over my lap under my desk.

Jen and Mol,

OMG! Did you know that Kian’s parents died? Can you imagine! How long has he been living in foster homes? Shoveled around? And he is from New York, too!? I know; I assumed he was from Washington, because Nathaniel is from Washington, and they all seemed like one family.

Ali

As I watched Mr. Gasper play with his dark mustache in front of the white board, several students raised their hands. Honors class. We all wanted to say the answer first. Except me. I couldn’t get Kian out of my mind. Three transfers from Washington. All parentless, except Dameon apparently still had his father. One transfer from some another school in New York. And then Tommy dies, and I start seeing angels.

OMG! The angels came because of Tommy! I straightened my back in the chair. Because he died. Angels did that, didn’t they? To try to console the living from loss?

A message vibrated on my phone.

Ali,

Duh. This is news to you? Where have you been? Oh, yeah, fawning over Dameon. Kian has told us all about his parents. About the fire and how it took him so long to just feel normal again. That is why he couldn’t continue in his old school. Why he transferred here.

Molly

And then another one.

Ali,

I just don’t get you. First you blow us off and then Kian off...and now you are all fascinated. Which is it?

Jen

Why hadn’t I known this about Kian? Was I really so blinded by Dameon that I hadn’t even paid that much attention to my girlfriends or the newbies? Why did I all of a sudden care about Kian anyway? And then I had an Ah-ha moment. It was so obvious that I couldn’t imagine why I didn’t see it before.

Wings

When
the bell at my front door rang Saturday evening, I expected Dameon. Mom had dolled up in her best attire, purple silk blouse and satiny black slacks. She had pinned her dirty blond hair up in a bun, but I wore my dark dreads down. Racing to the door, I pulled the knob like my life depended on it. Freshly baked muffins and a rack of lamb sat on the dining table.

“
Smells delicious.” Dameon revealed a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

“
We didn’t want to eat without you.” In fact Mom had insisted, which was a good sign. As I placed the flowers in a vase my words competed with Mom’s. “They’re beautiful!”

We sat around the table, Samuel across from me and Mom across from Dameon.

“
So, you go to Millennium High, too?” Samuel’s thick brows rose over his inquiring blue eyes. With his hair finely trimmed around the ears, he could be mistaken for military.

“
Yeah, for several months.”

“
You like it there?” Sam stabbed his lamb chop.

“
It’s alright. Got better when I started hanging with Ali though.”

I blushed. Besides the senior who broke my heart, whose name I rarely mentioned anymore, I didn’t have boys over to meet my family.

Mom poured us each a glass of milk. . “Well, I’m just glad that you are such a nice young man. Ali has told us so much about you.”

I had?

“
It’s nice to meet the both of you. I can see where Ali gets her good looks now.” Dameon complimented Mom with a crooked grin.

“
Ah, you’re sweet! Dig in; the lamb is topped with fresh mint.”

“
To die for.” Dameon practically salivated. He had never looked more famished.

“
So, will you be taking my Ali to the Prom this year?” Mom asked with little inhibition.

“
Mom!”
I turned stark red.

“
I don’t know; do you think she’d go with me?” Dameon teased easily and made me feel less stupid.

Samuel took it upon himself to answer. “All she’s been talking about is you this past week. I’m sure if you ask, she’d say yes.”

“
Thanks!” I whispered under my breath through gritted teeth, with a predatory glare aimed at my brother.

“
You’re welcome.” He whispered with a wink.

“
I hadn’t actually put much thought into it before, but since it’s on the table...” Dameon stood up and got on one knee as if he were about to present a marriage proposal. “Would you go with me to Prom?”

Grinning from ear to ear, my enthusiasm could not be categorized. I hopped up from my seat and hugged him so hard that I may have stopped his circulation at one point. “Yes, yes!”

Returning to our seats, we finished eating, and all the while I felt as if I were aglow. I beamed with joy like a neon light. Mom couldn’t stop smiling, either.

“
Thanks for a wonderful meal, Ms. Maney.”

“
You’re so welcome. Stop by anytime.”

“
I’ll see you all later. I’m heading back into the office.” Samuel cleared his plate and stood. Dameon and I waved bye and then headed upstairs. Normally, Mom would have had the boy out of the house after dinner; she always had with what’s-his-name. But ever since I told Mom about Dameon’s misfortunes, she had a soft spot for him, and after the flowers and the romantic display at the dining table, she couldn’t refuse us some alone time. Plus, I was one year older than I had been the last time I had a boy over.

Upstairs, my room was in shambles. Scrambling to hide clothes on the floor in the closet, I directed Dameon to the foot of the bed where he could sit on the wooden chest, the chest where I kept all my memorabilia from Dad, from school, from what’s-his-name. My past all bottled up into one chest. Who knew; I might actually enjoy sifting through it when I got older.

After pushing the last of my jeans over the closet floor, I managed to squeeze the door shut, turn with my back against the wall and smile. My hands still clasped the closet doorknobs.

“
Come here.” He waved to me and then tapped his hand on the chest beside him. I somehow glided across the room to the exact spot, as if it were marked with an X.

Leaning into me, he let his soft lips flirt with my ear lobe before caressing my neck. Goosebumps scattered all across my arms, and I felt a chill down my back. Ecstasy or anxiety? I felt like a fish out of water, my arms flaying about undirected. Then he turned into me, grabbed me with both arms, pulled me into his chest and let my head hang beside his as his lips pursued other options. My cheek, my eyelid, my chin. I rather liked the eyelid kiss. Too bad I didn’t have a camera to mark this moment forever to keep in my chest.

I couldn’t believe he wanted
me
out of all the prettier girls at Millennium High.

Uncertainty and nerves all rolled into one. When his long fingers scraped over my scalp, my silky hair fell between his fingers. Holding my head firmly in his hand, he leaned into my unpracticed lips and lingered for what felt like eternity. As he fiddled with my blouse buttons with his other hand, I felt the tip of his fingers caress the top of my breast, and took in a deep breath. Mom was just downstairs! I inched back to give myself room. If she walked in now...OMG!

“
I’d better lock the door.” I pulled away, his taste still on my lips, and padded to the door lock. Clink. “OK, sealed.”

“
Great, now come back here.” His raven eyes called me inside his tilting head. Grinning, I saw Dameon’s mischievous nature as he leaned over my bed. With his back to sheets, his arms invited me into his space. A space I had longed for since he arrived. “I won’t leave until I’ve kissed you at least fifty times!” he joked with a smirk.

“
Keeping track?” With a hint of sarcasm, I flirted. I puckered my lips and closed my eyes and allowed myself to fall into him. Outlining his chest with my fingertips I wanted to dig in more. Unbuttoning his black shirt I found dark hairs over finely sculptured pecs. I wanted to sear his body with kisses, but Mom still cooked downstairs, preparing for Samuel’s Police Banquet. She grilled chicken and steamed vegetables every year for the occasion. But more importantly, I didn’t want to move too fast. Being the first time alone with him, I didn’t want to come across as
easy.

My dark tresses trailed over my cheeks and flowed onto his shirt. Like an ocean wave my hair cascaded. He played with my locks, twisting them in his fingers around and around as I braced myself up with one hand on the bed and the other on him. Lost in his cryptic eyes, I gazed into them like one gazes at the moon. Seen, but yet so far away and seemingly untouchable. A pointy smile crept onto his lips and a sharpened edge rounded his eyes.

I couldn’t quite make out what his expression said. I’d only been with one other guy. What exactly did he want?