Winging It (2 page)

The other kids all seemed really chilled, kidding about and flirting, which I found quite reassuring. I remember thinking that if I HAD been worried about it being a school for actual angels (which obviously I wasn’t), the flirting would definitely have put my mind at rest. Also their clothes, which were reassuringly on trend. There wasn’t a long white nightie in sight.

I did notice that everyone’s cool fleeces and other stuff had that same little angel logo.

Imagine that
, Mel, I thought.
A designer tag you don’t know about!

One of the girls had a big throaty laugh that was really infectious. She was a bit of a daddy-long-legs, like me, I noticed. Everything about her zinged with energy: her springy black hair, her tough-girl walk. I sneakily attached myself to her, trying to act like I just happened to be going the same way.

Unfortunately, on the other side of the gates, I nearly blew my street cred once and for all.

I should explain that my old school was pretty much your standard comprehensive hell-hole. But this was practically a
palace
, with gorgeous gardens and domes and spires.

Yeah, but it’s still school
, I thought darkly.

We were hurrying along a shady walkway. You could see it was really ancient. The stone slabs had actual hollows worn into them by centuries of passing feet. One of my shoes accidentally slipped into a shiny long-ago footprint, and a shiver went through me. It fitted exactly.

The girl gave me a funny look. “Angel vibes,” she said. “You soon get used to them.”

But I didn’t really register what she said because suddenly I’d got the strangest feeling. “Do I know you, or something?” I blurted.

The girl froze in her tracks.

Now look what you’ve done
, I scolded myself.
She’s going to have you down as some needy little groupie
.

She was staring at me with a stunned expression. “Weird,” she whispered. “I was just thinking the same thing.” She took a big breath. “I’m Lola.”

“I’m Melanie,” I whispered back.

Our eyes met for about a split second, and it was like a total replay of my shivery footprint moment.

We both quickly looked away again and walked on side by side.

This is going to sound bizarre, so please don’t ask me to explain. But somewhere inside, I just knew Lola was the friend I’d waited for my whole life.

It wasn’t how she looked (although her clothe were lush). It was more like I already knew her
really
, really well. And I got the feeling she felt the same way. We kept giving each other startled little glances as we hurried along. Like:
What is going on?

Get a grip, Melanie
, I told myself.
Do you seriously imagine a girl this cool will want to hang out with you?

At this moment, there was so much happening inside my head that I’d split into at least three or four Mels. First, I’m trying not to dwell too closely on what I’m doing here. Second, I’ve just run into a total stranger who seems like she’s my all-time best buddy. Third,we are speeding through these school grounds which are getting more amazing by the minute. And I mean AMAZING! It was all I could do not to squeal like a little kid.

I still wasn’t too impressed to find myself hanging around some strange school in the holidays. But I was starting to see how the right person just might get something out of a set-up like this.

But what
kind
of set-up was it exactly? I couldn’t figure it out. At first I thought I’d gate-crashed one of those really retro private schools. The ones that call homework “prep” and have their own weird little school song on speech days.

But other parts of the Academy were incredibly futuristic. Plus they had all this water everywhere - trickling along little channels and into pools, bubbling out of fountains. It sounded almost like music, the sort of music you might hear in a wonderful dream.

We actually passed a spiral staircase which wound around a real waterfall. I’d never seen anything so magical as those shining stairs, twisting and turning through crowds of tiny glowing rainbows.

But there was no time to admire the scenery. The kids were practically running by this time. We seemed to be heading rapidly for some impressive wooden doors. Carved into them was the same little angel logo I kept seeing everywhere.

At that point I went into a full-scale panic attack.

If I go in there, something’s going to happen
, I thought.
Something which will change me for ever
.

But before I could make a run for it, I was swept helplessly through the doors into a vast sunlit hall

It was like a huge theatre with tiers and tiers of seats. High over our head was a dome of stained glass. Sunlight poured through the glass, spilling extraordinary colours everywhere.

There was a stage, a very grand one. Right across the back wall was an outsized TV screen, the kind you get at pop concerts, with the word: WELCOME BACK in glowing letters.

Teachers roamed up and down the aisles. Their fluttering, deep-dyed robes made them look more like birds than people. This place got more unbelievable every minute. Suddenly I registered an extremely unpleasant fact.

There wasn’t an empty seat anywhere. Nightmare! I was going to be the one person left standing in this weird scary hall.

I suddenly saw Lola waving frantically. She’d actually saved me a place!

I gratefully squeezed on to the bench beside her. A split second later, a honey-coloured boy in cut-offs slid into the non-existent space beside me. “You think I’m late,” he whispered, “but five minutes ago I was surfing.”

Liar
, I thought. It was true drops of water were running off his tiny dreads, but he’d probably just washed his hair or something.

Suddenly someone strode to the front of the stage. And without him yelling at us or anything, everyone immediately went quiet.

“Good morning, school,” said the headmaster. “First, a special welcome to those of you who have just arrived. If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to come and talk to me.”

Lola rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like he’s ever here.” Then I think she was worried she’d given me the wrong impression, because she hissed, “It’s not his fault. The Agency takes up practically all Michael’s time these days.”

She calls the headmaster Michael!
I thought, suppressing a snigger.
How hippie-dippie is that!

Michael was far less imposing than the teachers in their robes. He wore a suit he had apparently slept in, giving the impression he’d just flown in on some long-haul flight. You could tell he was completely shattered.

Then I saw him in close-up, on the TV screen and had another fit of my mysterious shivers.

Michael had the loveliest face I’d ever seen.

It was also
totally
terrifying.

It should have been obvious to anyone with a functioning brain cell that this was not your average headmaster. But I’d never met an archangel before.

Plus, I can’t stand school assemblies. They make me feel as if I can’t breathe. I always tune them out or I’d have to scream with boredom.

I caught major yawn-words like “team work”, and even (yikes!) “responsibility”, and carried on scrutinising my split ends. But now and then, a far more disturbing word caught my attention. Michael used it more than anyone I’d ever known, and after a while it started getting to me like a dripping tap. Angel tradition. Angel skills Angel Handbook. Angel Angel Angel!

Something deeply weird is going on here, Melanie
, I told myself.

I sneaked a look at Lola, who immediately pulled a silly face.

Way too normal
, I thought.

I surreptitiously scanned the hall. It was true that all these kids had an unusual glow. But that didn’t necessarily mean it was a supernatural-type glow. Probably their parents made them eat their greens and run around out of doors, you know, constantly.

Just one final itty bitty check. Twisting round in my seat, I gave the kids at the back of the hall a nervous once-over.

Melanie, I know this feels scary
, I said to myself,
but try to answer truthfully. Do any of these kids look like, um, angels to you?

I had no idea. What did angels look like, assuming they didn’t come with wings and halos like the one on our Christmas tree?

Oh-oh
, I thought in a sudden panic.
They’d look like her!

Behind me was the most angelic-looking being I’d seen since Venetia Rossetti. She had pale, almost silver-blonde hair, with cute little flowery slides fastened in it, and skin so pure and peachy, it looked totally unused.

She caught me staring and nudged the spookily identical boy beside her.

I quickly turned round.

It is! It’s an angel school
, I thought. That fabulous rosy glow wasn’t vitamins and fresh air. It was heavenly radiance!

A terrifying question slid into my head. What was I doing, hanging out with some bunch of angels? Unless.

Somewhere far away, I heard myself squeak with alarm.

Did that mean I was an angel too?

Like, did that mean I was…

Chapter Three

A
t this point I had two major headaches.

Headache number 1: I am unexpectedly dead.

Headache number 2: I have accidentally infiltrated an angel school.

There was also a potential third headache which I refused to think about. The idea of me being an actual angel was just a joke!

Relax, Mel
, I told myself.
They mixed you up with one of the real angels on the way over. You’d better tell somebody
.

What will I say?
I panicked. I couldn’t exactly waltz up to someone and say, “Um - anyone reported a missing angel?” Suppose I’d broken some really heavy cosmic law just by being here?

I was in such a panic, I didn’t notice Michael’s pep-talk finishing. A female teacher in purple robes had started calling out names from a sheet. The hall emptied around me, as kids jumped out of the seats and went to join their teachers.

“Reuben Bird,” said Purple Robes. The skinny boy beside me sprang off the bench and ran down the front. “Lola Sanchez.”

“That’s me!” cried Lola. A ripple of laughter went through the hall, but Lola didn’t seem a bit embarrassed. She went to stand beside Reuben beaming.

“Flora Devere, Ferdy Devere. Amber Overwood.”

Amber bounded to the front, red-gold plaits whipping madly around her head. The twins sauntered out, like glamorous angel supermodels.

I could feel my palms getting sweaty.
Don’t say she called my name when I wasn’t listening
, I prayed.

Hold on, Melanie
, I thought suddenly.
You’re carrying on as if you CHOSE to come here!

I blinked with surprise. So I was. Why was that? It’s not like I ever saw the point of normal school! Why in the world would I want to go to some goody-goody Angel Academy?

Not to mention that you’re not an angel
, I reminded myself.

Then something eerie happened.

The purple robes person with the list looked up and smiled at me as if she’d known I was there all along. “And finally, Melanie Beeby. Welcome to the Academy, Melanie. We all hope you have a happy and productive time here.”

My knees dissolved to jelly.
They’d got my name on their heavenly list!

They genuinely believed I was an angel! You’d think real angels would recognise an undercover human when they saw one. But she seemed totally taken in. When I didn’t move from my seat, she gave me another encouraging smile, presumably thinking I had stage fright.

OK, Mel
, I thought.
Now’s your chance to own up
.

“Oops, sorry, Miss. I was miles away,” I muttered. And I floated to the front on my wobbly jelly legs.

“I knew it,” Lola burbled. “The minute I saw you, I KNEW we were going to be in the same class. That’s Mr Allbright over there, the guy in the hat. Isn’t he a duck?”

With his tufty hair and beaky nose, our teacher did in fact look amazingly like a duck. A sweet, absent minded little duck.

“Why did you have to put that duck idea in my head?” I hissed. “I’m going to die laughing now, every time I look at him.”

I knew it was dumb, to try and make Lola like me when I was only passing through. But I couldn’t help-it.

“I only meant he’s cute,” Lola was saying. Then she slid her eyes in Mr Allbright’s direction and collapsed in hysterics. “Omigosh,” she squeaked. “He really does look like a duck!”

By this time, cute Mr Allbright was heading briskly out of the hall. Our class started to follow him. Not knowing what else to do, I followed him too.

“Are you OK?” Lola asked, as we walked across the school campus. “Because back in the hall, I thought you didn’t look OK.”

She looked so concerned that I was tempted to tell her everything.