Black Halo (Grace Series)

by S. L. Naeole

  “Okay,” I said, laughing. “I get it. I’ll talk to Robert about this.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her laughter joining mine. “So, you two are on speaking terms again?”

  “It’s kind of hard not to be since I’m pretty much confined to his house,” I replied, the laughter dying in my throat.

  “I suppose. You’re practically a prisoner yourself, huh? Stuck in a house with someone you’d rather not even speak to, some crazed angel is out to kill you, Erica’s stalking you, and now my brother is trying to keep us from having a decent conversation. If it weren’t for this whole dying thing, I’d ask if you wanted to trade lives.”

  “Since I’ve got that ‘crazed angel out to kill’ me thing hanging over my own head, I think we’re pretty much in the same boat.” A sound from behind the bookshelf brought my silence much sooner than I had intended, and I pushed my seat back to peek around, tipping myself back on the rear two legs of the chair.

  “What is it?” Stacy hissed.

  “Someone’s been listening,” I whispered while pointing to the bookshelf.

  She nodded in understanding and slowly stood up, backing up and heading in the opposite direction.

  When she reached the end, with unspoken agreement, we both launched forward; Stacy on her feet, me on my back after falling out of the chair and landing prone on the ground.

  “Uh-hi, Grace.”

  I stared up at Shawn’s flustered face and groaned at the ramifications if he heard anything that he wasn’t supposed to. He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking and began to shake his head, vigorously denying what I had not yet accused him of.

  “I was trying to find you; I knew you had third period free and figured that if you’d be anywhere, it’d be in here, and so I asked up front and they pointed back here,” he rushed, his eyes darting back and forth between Stacy and I, his hands nervously clutching at his pant legs as though they were bolstering him somehow.

  “What did you want, Shawn?” I asked him calmly, not wanting to send him into a full stutter.

  “I don’t want to overstep my boundaries,” he started, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

  “Don’t worry,” I told him with a forced chuckle. “There’s nothing you can say to me that would make me think that. Believe me.”

  “Well, I’ve been wondering if you and Robert were still together. See, I’ve been watching the two of you and things don’t look so copacetic, if you know what I mean.”

  “I know what you mean, and the answer is no, Shawn. We’re not, but I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.” My voice wavered as the words passed my tongue.

  “Okay then, well, that makes this next part that much easier.” He swelled up as he took in an encouraging breath—almost too much as he began to cough from the over-stretching of his lungs and chest—and then grinned at me, his shoulders back, his head held proudly.

  “Grace, I wanted to know if you wanted to go to prom with me.”

  “I-I”

  I stared at him, flabbergasted. I could only utter unintelligible sounds as I tried to figure out why he thought of me to ask. The anxious look on his face didn’t help me get any closer to an answer.

  “Hey, don’t you have a girlfriend?” Stacy asked, finally speaking up.

  He turned around and smiled, a sad smile that was quickly replaced with a more quirky one. “Well, I did, but she decided that finals are more important than prom so I’ve got two prom tickets and no date. I know you probably think I’m so out of your league, but-”

  I abruptly cut him off. “I think you’re out of my league? Whatever gave you that insane idea?”

  “Well, look at your friends; you hang out with Lark and Stacy; you’re best friends with Graham Hasselbeck. You dated Robert Bellegarde for crying out loud! It’s a pretty big fall to go from that to Salsa Boy.” His face pinked up from embarrassment, the first time I’d ever seen such a thing from him, and I suddenly felt ashamed.

  “Shawn, I don’t know where you got the idea that I somehow thought that I was better than anyone, but I gotta tell you, I don’t think you’re out of my league. I don’t have a-a league, period. Yeah, Graham and I are friends, but we’ve been friends since we had baby teeth, we live next door to each other; it’s kinda the law that we’re friends, you know?

  “As for Robert…that was a fluke. I’m the one out of his league—way, way, way out of his league. I just…I never thought about going to prom, and I’m not quite a dress wearing kind of person.”

  He smirked, pride puffing up in him. “So that means that I’m the first person to ask you?”

  My eyebrows pulled together as I nodded, unsure as to where exactly he was going with this.

  “Well then, if I ask you to prom and tell you that you can wear whatever you want, would you go with me?”

  I looked at Stacy, my eyes widening in an open hint to give me some kind of advice, but she was too busy staring at her nails—nails that she never seemed to care about before, nails that were chewed so short, she’d be more likely to scratch you with the calluses on her knuckles—to even humor me with a response.

  When my gaze returned to Shawn’s and I saw the hopeful look in his face, I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint him. Sighing with deep resignation, I nodded in a half-hearted manner, so shallow was the movement I doubted I had even done it until he grabbed my hand and began to shake it, clapping it against his own several times before giving me an off-the-wall salute and a bow that brought his head so close to the ground, I feared he’d slam it against the flooring.

  “Thank you, Grace,” he crowed as he turned to leave. “I promise you won’t regret this.”

  “Oh, but you might,” Stacy mumbled behind me, suddenly losing interest in her hands, her arms, any other appendage as she watched Shawn stroll past the rows of books towards the exit.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  The look she gave me told me just how stupefied she was, and I sat down, intrigued by her reaction. “Grace, you’ve just agreed to go to prom with Shawn Bing. Do you know what people will assume when they find out? When they see you?”

  “Yeah, that Robert dumped me and that Shawn’s my rebound date,” I replied harshly.

  “And what will Robert think?”

  I brushed off her question with a quick wave of my hand. “He can read minds, remember? Shawn’s not interested in me, not really. And I’m certainly not interested in him that way either, so who cares? Besides, now you have reason to go to prom, too!”

  “And what reason would that be, because let me tell you, in order for me to go to prom, it’d have to be with a pre-med Korean boy whose parents are richer than the national deficit the way things are going at home.”

  “You can go with Graham,” I answered simply. “Lark won’t be going, and I know for a fact that he’s got a tuxedo hidden away somewhere for just this occasion.”

  The look on Stacy’s face was priceless as the suggestion began to take hold. “Well, that’s a new one. Me go to prom with my ex-boyfriend who’s now dating my best friend. It’ll piss off my parents, that’s for sure, and I’ll probably end up being chained to my bed until the cancer takes me or I commit suicide by kim chi. Either way, I guess it’d make for a pretty good epitaph.”

  “That’s one way to look at it,” I said, not exactly finding her morbid take funny. “So that’s it. You’ll go with Graham and I’ll go with Sal-er, Shawn.”

  “Does Graham know that he’s going to prom?” Stacy asked as she began to put her things away.

  “He will as soon as the bell rings,” I said, smiling.

  “Well, I guess I should be glad that I’ll be playing the inmate role for the next three-and-a-half hours then,” she laughed. “When you do break it to Graham, please make sure he knows that this was your idea and not mine.”

  “Oh thanks,” I joked. “Way to have my back.”

  The trill ringing of the bell echoed through the library and Stacy grinned almo
st maniacally. “I think I’ll watch this from the back of the cafeteria now that I think of it. Oh this will be amusing—you trying to convince Graham to take me to prom.”

  Standing up, I suddenly felt a bubble of fear rise up in my belly. “Maybe I’ll wait until after school.”

  “Oh no, you’re going to break this to him now.”

  Stacy pulled my arm, dragging me towards the exit with a gleeful glint in her eyes. That scared me more than what Graham’s reaction might be.

  “What about Sean? He’s going to be outside and I don’t think he’s going to want to see me suggest to Graham that he take you to prom.”

  For an attempt to keep her away, it was weak. Stacy smiled and continued to pull me through the library. She shoved me behind the reference book shelf and squeezed herself beside me, a long, thin finger resting over her lips to quiet me.

  It took less than a minute for me to figure out what she was doing when I saw Sean pass by us, heading towards the back of the library with such purpose, he could have left deep impressions in the floor had he the strength.

  “Ugh!” I grunted as Stacy quickly yanked me from our hiding spot and through the library door, nearly slamming my head into it as we passed by.

  “Hurry up—I might only have a few minutes!”

  We rushed through the hallway, Stacy expertly weaving through the crowded space until we reached the cafeteria.

  “Gross-it’s goulash day,” I groaned, raising my hand over my nose and breathing through the sleeve of my shirt.

  “There he is!” Stacy led me to our usual table, a broad smile growing on her face, cartoonish in size, frightening in intent.

  “Stacy! What happened, did’ja get paroled?” Graham cheered, standing up to press a quick hug to her before seeing the way she gripped my arm. “What’s up? Did something happen?” I felt incredibly irresponsible as soon as the lines of concern began to form on his face and I shook my head.

  “No, no, nothing happened. It’s just that I…I wanted to ask you something,” I said slowly. When he nodded, awaiting my question, I threw a quick glance at Stacy, whose smug smile did nothing to reassure me.

  “Well, see, Shawn Bing came up to me in the library and he asked me to prom-”

  “Salsa Boy asked you to prom?” Graham hooted.

  “Yes, he did, and I said yes,” my reply came, and it hit him like a slap in the face. At least, that’s what it looked like to me when his amused face instantly turned into one that was near hysterical with fear.

  The loose grip of Stacy’s hand was quickly replaced with the tight one of Graham’s. He pulled me to a seat and brought his head down close to mine as he, too, sat down. He looked up at Stacy and then back at me, his voice a low combination of a hiss and a whisper. “Are you crazy? Do you know what Robert would do to Shawn? You saw what he did to me and all I did was hug you!”

  “First of all,” I began, my voice just as low, my anger just as palpable, “Robert never asked me to prom, and I doubt he ever intended to. Second, I want you to take Stacy to the prom. And third, who I go to the prom with is none of your business.”

  “Why would Robert ask you to prom? You broke up with him, remember? And you hate wearing dresses—you have to wear a dress to prom, Grace, just in case you thought you could get away with wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It’s like, the law or something—you want me to what?”

  “She wants you to take me to prom,” Stacy chimed in.

  “Why the hell should I do that?” Graham looked about as confused as I felt awful. “I mean, I’ll do it, but there’s got to be a good reason. Prom’s not cheap and if I’m taking Stacy, I’m going to have to rent a bodyguard, or perhaps just Robert, just to keep from getting mauled by her brothers, not to mention take out a life insurance policy to pay for my funeral if Robert says no.”

  “You should do it because it’s prom. You should do it because we’re all friends here, and this might be the last time we’re together before…well, just before.”

  “I must be cracked,” Graham groaned. “Alright. I’ll take Stacy to prom.”

  It took me a minute to recognize that he’d agreed, and then I whooped with excitement.

  “Yeah, you always seem to do that when everyone gets quiet,” he laughed and I realized with red-faced shame that he was right.

  Every eye in the cafeteria was turned to me. “Uh-oh,” I breathed. “Trouble, Stacy.”

  “What?” Her eyes moved to look in the same direction as mine and a very audible curse escaped her lips before she began stalking towards two very angry looking people standing near the far exit of the cafeteria.

  “Shouldn’t one of us go and help her?” Graham whispered into my ear as he watched Stacy’s shoulders slump millimeter after millimeter with each step.

  “And do what? Those are her parents, Graham, and they hate us, remember?”

  With one last look at us, Stacy followed her mother and father out of the cafeteria, looking far smaller than she was and it angered me, seeing how defeated she’d become and knowing that none of it was caused by the cancer.

  “So, are you going to tell Robert about Salsa Boy or will you let him find out on his own?”

  I didn’t want to answer that question. I didn’t even want to think about answering that question.

  “You won’t have to answer that question.”

  “Hey, Robert! Er…it’s about time you showed up!” Graham’s voice was squeaky with nervousness and fear.

  I looked at Graham’s face and I could see Robert’s reflection in the green of his eyes. Even through the emerald glass, I could make out the sadness that lurked there, feel it like it were my own.

  “Did you hear? I’m going to prom with Stacy,” Graham said in a burst of words, his eyes flicking from mine to Robert’s. I remained still, unable to face him.

  “I know. I also know that Shawn Bing asked Grace to go to the prom with him. He’s a far better man for asking, since I did not.”

  I turned around, a question of my own now poised at the tip of my tongue. “Were you? Were you going to ask?”

  His grey eyes looked down on me, his face unmoving as he shook his head. “No, I wasn’t.”

  It was a brusque response, one that I had expected, but I had no idea that it would sting so much to hear. I nodded and then turned away. “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing that Shawn asked.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  And then without another word, Robert turned and walked away. Graham twirled my body around to watch him leave, but I couldn’t. My head hung down low, matching my mood.

  “I’m not sure that was a good idea, Grace.”

  I closed my eyes and sank into a chair. “Haven’t you realized yet that nothing that comes out of my mouth is good, Graham?”

  He sat down beside me and sighed, his hand grasping mine. “That’s not entirely true, Grace. It’s mostly true, but not completely, and it’s that small amount that’s wrong that matters.”

  “You really know how to comfort a girl,” I quipped. “I’ve messed things up again, haven’t I?”

  “No, you haven’t. I think it’s a good idea, you going to prom with Salsa Boy. It’ll give you a taste of what it’s like to date a human and make you totally swear us off for life.”

  “Swear off what, humans or guys?”

  He chuckled. “Yes.”

  The bustling of students in the cafeteria muffled our conversation, and I felt comfortable enough after a while to lean my head on Graham’s shoulder and speak softly. “So why didn’t you ask me to prom, huh? Why did the first person to ask me to prom have to be Shawn Bing?”

  “Probably because he’s harmless.”

  A chortle—that odd laugh that almost sounds like one’s drowning on their own spit—came out of my mouth. “I guess you’re right. I can tell you this much though, Graham. I never pictured myself going to senior prom, but if I had, it would definitely not have been with Salsa Boy.”

  “Who would it have been with then?”


  I couldn’t prevent my gaze from heading towards the exit, my eyes straining to see beyond it each time the door opened, hoping for a glimpse of mercury.

  “I don’t know…”

  BIG SISTER

  April fifteenth. That was Janice’s due date. I had the date marked on the small calendar that was taped to the inside flap of my binder, the little red circle a constant reminder that soon, I’d be responsible for someone else.

  Though I had called the hospital every day, I had yet to go and visit, which I was sure Janice and Dad both took personally though they never mentioned it whenever we spoke on the phone. Dad’s visits to the house were always met with an excited Graham, who’d rehearsed his various excuses so much, he sometimes used them during school.

  On the fourteenth, the phone call that I had been waiting for arrived, though from a source I hadn’t expected.

  I sat on the sofa in Robert’s living room, one of the old, leather-bound books from a bookshelf in my lap. I had gone through several of them over the past week and a half, each one holding a history that I had never heard before, events that took place centuries, millennia ago that had only been captured in one or two volumes that had not left the care of certain families. This particular book told of the roles of the electus patronus that hadn’t been explained to me by anyone.

  “And though the hurt of the people began to spread like an infection of the flesh, the chosen few were there to stand and voice the dissention of the dissolution of faith. They bore the burden of such great hurt and suffering, their numbers grossly dwindled by retaliation and forced illness until less than one hundred existed in the world.”

  The idea that so few individuals were left to protect the countless amount of angels that existed on earth floored me. I knew that the electus patronus swore to protect the secrets of the angels, but I didn’t know that they had also sworn to protect their existence, too, and at the cost of their lives.

  The drawings of the torture that they had endured were reminiscent of the paintings and etchings of the Spanish Inquisition that I had seen time and time again in my history books. The pictures were graphic: children were set on fire. Pregnant women were cut open and left to be fed to the hungry dogs that had rounded them up. Fathers were made to watch as their only sons were tortured, their daughters raped—the pain and horror on the faces of the victims was so palpable, I could almost hear their screams around me.