“Fuck that!” Mason smashed his fist into Dylan’s jaw causing a domino effect. The living room turned into a W.W.E. stage. The angels and the boys from my school threw punches at one another, shoving, pushing, slamming bodies. But the human boys were no match for the angels; they were stronger and faster.
Vance smashed a chair on Trent’s back it broke in half. When Vance realized his mistake, he backed away, but Trent caught him by the throat, lifted Vance off the ground and flung him through a window.
Milo had Eddie cornered on a couch and repeatedly swung his fist into Eddie’s face. I jumped onto Milo’s back and held his neck in an attempt to choke him.
“Get off him you monster!” I screamed.
Someone yelled, “Pigs!”
Blue and red lights enveloped the room. Everyone in the house scattered, jumping over furniture, spilling out of the house in every direction.
I let out a sigh of relief. Good, the cops are here. But my relief quickly turned into anguish. Shit, the cops are here! I had to get out of there fast.
Milo unhooked my arms, I tried to fight back, but Milo was too strong. He twisted my body around, so I was in his arms, with a smirk he said, “see you around.”
Then he let go of me, and I landed on the couch.
“Asshole!” I yelled after him. I turned to face Eddie and noticed an awful amount of blood gushing from a cut on his forehead. When I reached for it, he pulled back.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Eddie, I’m sorry,” I said feeling guilty. I wanted to stay longer to comfort him, but I didn’t know what to say or do. I ran through the kitchen door that led to the backyard searching for Julian and Dawn, but they were gone. I couldn’t believe they left without me!
Weaving through the huddle of teenagers, I ran alongside the house until I reached my car where a few students from Dixon High were getting arrested. My car was blocked by two police cars.
Damn it! I couldn’t go to jail. How was I going to get home? I thought about hiding in the woods until the police left, but that plan was out of the cards the moment one of the police officers spotted me. Slowly, I backed away, but he pointed a flashlight right in my face commanding me to stop.
Instinct took over my muscles urging me to run. Fueled by adrenaline and stupidity, I fled down the street turning the corner heading away from Mason’s house. All the extra running and training Coach Anderson had the varsity team do during soccer camp over the summer was going to pay off tonight.
Running as fast as I could, I pushed my body to the brink of exhaustion, but quitting wasn’t an option. I looked back. The police officer was right on my tail. And he was getting closer. My heart was beating so fast, my legs were aching and growing numb I thought they might give out on me.
Then suddenly, a blinding light flooded my vision. The roar of a motorcycle sent frightening chills up my spine. It was Milo.
“Get on,” he said revving the engine.
“No—hell no!” I shook my head refusing to get on the deathtrap.
Milo revved the engine again. “They’re coming!”
I looked back. Blue lights flashed in our direction. Without much thought, I jumped onto the back of Milo’s motorcycle and wrapped my arms tightly around his body. The back tire squealed and sped away leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.
☩
My head was dizzy with the smell of leather and musk, when the motorcycle stopped. I was so afraid at the speed Milo rode his bike, I kept my eyes tightly shut the entire ride.
“Wanna…get off?” Milo whispered in a slow seductive voice.
“Perv,” I said opening my eyes.
“Off the bike.” Milo laughed. “You’re the one with a dirty mind,” he said with a smirk.
I blinked several times, trying to regain focus. Where was I? Scanning the area, I saw several tombstones take shape. We were parked in front of the Dixon cemetery around the corner from my house. Sliding off Milo’s bike I started to walk home. Behind me, I heard footsteps trailing mine.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Walking you home.”
“I think I’ll manage.”
“Can I get your number then?”
“Sorry, no phone,” I said, raising my empty hands.
I quickened my pace leaving Milo far behind. I didn’t want him to know where I lived. Once I reached the comfort of my house, I noticed all the lights were off, and the driveway was empty. I fished in my pockets for my keys but turned out empty handed.
Shit.
I searched again with no luck. Did I seriously lose my keys? Damn karma! I did something good, and this is how I’m repaid?
I knocked on the front door several times, but no one answered. I peeked through every window, tried every door, but every single one was locked. Except—my door. I really didn’t want to go back there, not after the encounter with the dark figure, but I had no other choice.
Carefully, I made my way to the backyard where it was dark and eerily quiet. Once I reached the balcony, I stood in place ready to climb, when I heard a familiar voice.
“Need help?”
I whirled around to find Milo standing right in front of me. I could have sworn I lost him back at the cemetery.
“Shit! You scared me.” I breathed heavily as if I was about to have a heart attack. “What are you doing here?”
“You ask me that a lot,” he said.
“Well, you seem to be everywhere I am lately.”
I turned my back to him focusing my attention on the balcony. “And no, I don’t need your help.”
“You sure?” he asked measuring the height. “Because that looks like a hell of a climb.”
“Been there, done it. It’s not a big deal,” I said placing one foot on a column when suddenly I found myself balancing my body on Milo’s shoulders. I squealed and squeezed my thighs tightly around Milo’s neck and held on to his head.
“Put me down!” I shouted.
“I will if you loosen up a bit,” he said chuckling. “I. Can’t. Breathe.” Milo held on to his neck acting as if he were losing his breath.
Relaxing my grip, I carefully slid off Milo’s shoulders and lost my balance. My face was an inch off the ground when Milo caught my arm. He was laughing his ass off.
Our bodies collided when Milo pulled me up. His grip was tight as he held me by the waist so that I wouldn’t fall. My breathing became heavier the closer his face inched toward mine. The warmth of his breath licked the side of my neck making it tickle. Milo stared at me with such intensity it felt like his eyes were burning right through me. Without warning, he gave me a quick peck on the lips, shocking me with a zap of static electricity.
“Asshole!” I pushed him off.
“You have a dirty mouth,” he said with a grin emphasizing the word dirty. “Sexy.”
I wished he would shut up. Everything that came out of Milo’s mouth was annoying, and I was mad at myself for getting so worked up. How could any girl stand him? How did I find him attractive?
“Look, you need to go before my mother gets home.”
“Let me help you, and I promise, I’ll leave.”
“Fine,” I replied. “But keep your hands to yourself.”
“Scouts honor,” he said with his hands up, fingers crossed.
Milo hooked his fingers together to form a step. Placing my foot there, he lifted me to the top with no effort. Once I was in the safety of my balcony, I rested my back against the wall and grazed my lips. A mixture of contradictory emotions pulsed through my veins—annoyance, excitement, shock.
In the end, euphoria won. I let out a soft, nervous giggle.
CHAPTER
11
Mason’s party was the subject of school gossip on Monday morning. Rumors spread like wildfire about the hell the angels caused. Even worse, I was the subject of one of those rumors because someone saw me leaving with Milo.
I felt the curious stares and glances from my classmates as I walked down the hallw
ay to my class. Some of them whispered and pointed at me as if I were an animal on display at the zoo. The spotlight was beaming in my direction, and I hated my sudden rise in popularity. Last week no one cared to know anything about me, but today was the complete opposite.
Overnight, I built a reputation as an angel sympathizer. The girl who fooled around with the ‘spawn of Satan.’ I saw Eddie standing by his locker with stitches on his forehead, surrounded by his football friends. All of them shot nasty glares in my direction. Eddie furrowed his eyebrows and looked away when I made eye contact with him. My heart twisted with guilt and sadness, I rushed out of the hallway without looking back.
The stares and whispers continued when I walked into my art class. Mrs. Mercury had the seating set up in a circle with a vase full of flowers in the center. I sat down in front of my easel and prepped the paint palette for the art assignment. I kept my eyes on the blank canvas, but my focus was shattered by the two girls sitting beside me. They giggled and whispered to each other—clearly talking about me and making no effort to hide it.
“What?” I asked gritting my teeth.
They giggled again before the slender girl with auburn hair asked, “Is it true you’re dating an angel?”
“We heard you met him at Eve’s Paradise,” the other one asked, her tiny face obscured by her long mousy hair.
Instead of answering, I sat quietly irked by their prying questions. I didn’t want to implicate myself any further with the angels. And I had a pretty good idea who was spreading rumors about me. I planned to confront her after school.
Keeping my voice monotone, I replied, “I’m not dating anyone.”
Focusing on the palette, I grabbed a bottle of red paint making it clear the conversation was over. But that didn’t stop the inquisition.
“What are they like?” The auburn-haired girl asked. “Are they really as gorgeous as they look on TV?”
“Has he showed you his wings?” The mousy haired one asked. “Is it true they can hypnotize you with one look?”
Thankfully, Mrs. Mercury walked in wearing an apron splattered with paint.
“Everyone, take your seats!” She clapped. Her medium length black hair was so dark it almost looked blue underneath the light, and her chestnut eyes matched her beautiful skin.
Like me, Mrs. Mercury didn’t fit in the Georgia peach mold of Dixon. She moved from New York to escape city life. I could tell many of the teachers at Dixon High didn’t understand her quirkiness and weren’t thrilled about her taboo way of teaching. Mrs. Mercury’s assignments consisted of live model paintings and sketches. She often used local volunteers, but when she had the money, she hired professional models from Atlanta, which was eye candy to the students.
Mrs. Mercury handed out the latest assignment. “Just a reminder that your mid-term project counts as forty percent of your final grade.” The classroom groaned. “I want a life drawing of a subject of your own choosing—one you haven’t used before.”
“Can we use animals?” one student asked.
“Let’s try and stick to humans, shall we? Animals can be problematic.”
I bit my lip in thought and wondered who I could use as my muse. Julian and Dawn had modeled for me earlier in the semester, so my resources were tapped out.
I could ask Eddie—no, definitely not Eddie. I’d have to figure it out later.
When the bell rang at the end of the class, Mrs. Mercury pulled me aside. Since Dixon didn’t have the budget to hire certified counselors, a few of the teachers played double duty. As my assigned counselor, Mrs. Mercury met with me at the beginning of every month to check on my progress.
I remained in my seat waiting for everyone to leave. My eyes wandered to the door where the two girls who were questioning me earlier were huddled. They were still whispering and giggling.
Sophomores, I thought. So immature.
“Ladies.” Mrs. Mercury motioned for them to leave. She closed the door, grabbed a stool and slid it in front of me. She examined my sketch closely. “You’re getting better.”
“Thank you,” I replied proudly.
“So, tell me, what’s going on?”
Taking in a big breath, I said, “nothing, really. Just…” I didn’t want to tell her I got fired. “Working.”
“Good. Have you given any thought about college?” She smiled.
“I want to go to…” I began, but I was still bummed over how expensive film school turned out. “Actually, I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere. Film school is way out of my league.”
Mrs. Mercury frowned, and I braced myself for the oncoming lecture. “You know, you don’t have to go to a film school to be a filmmaker. James Cameron, Alfred Hitchcock, Tim Burton, Tarantino, and Rodriguez—none went to film school. Steven Spielberg got rejected from the University of Southern California film program twice.”
I smiled, impressed by her knowledge of notable filmmakers.
“Now, I’m not suggesting you skip college altogether. I believe it is very important, it provides a backup plan just in case Plan A doesn’t work out for you.”
“I can’t afford it,” I replied defeated. “My mother’s credit score sucks. I wouldn’t qualify for financial aid.”
“All I hear are excuses. There are numerous grants and scholarships a talented artist like yourself can apply for, and you can still get a loan even if you have a less than ideal credit score.”
Loans were out of the plan, but scholarships never crossed my mind.
“What kind of scholarships?” I asked, straightening myself.
Mrs. Mercury smiled she caught my interest. She walked back to her desk and returned with a stack of pamphlets.
“Here you go,” she said handing them to me. “The film scholarships require video entries of your work. You have an excellent eye; I don’t see why you can’t win.” I met her gaze.
“Thank you,” I said genuinely.
I was very grateful for Mrs. Mercury and her encouraging words, and thankful there was at least one person in this world who was concerned about me. The Super-8 Dawn gave me was going to come in handy. All I had to do was figure out which of my stories to film.
Stuffing the pamphlets inside my backpack, I waved to Mrs. Mercury before I left the room.
After seventh period when the last bell rang, I walked down the hallway toward the parking lot where Julian was waiting for me to give me a ride to pick up my car, I saw Eddie standing by my locker. But I didn’t bother to stop.
“I need to talk to you,” he said walking parallel to me.
“About what?” I snapped.
Eddie had been ignoring me all day, and suddenly he wanted to talk? I wasn’t in the mood to entertain him today.
“Is it true what they’re saying?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I responded playing coy.
“They saw you leaving with him Friday night.” I picked up on Eddie’s accusatory tone but shrugged it off. Although we were not a couple anymore, it annoyed me how possessive Eddie acted.
“If I did, it’s really none of your business.” I was getting irritated.
“I’m just looking out for you, Alexis. As a friend, and maybe as—”
“Maybe what?”
“I don’t know. Something more.”
“When are you going to get the picture? We’re never getting back together!”
“Why not?”
“Because you cheated on me!” I almost screamed but lowered my voice when I realized people were staring.
“So that’s it, uh?” He let out a sigh. “It’s really over?”
“I’m done.”
There was a rush of emotions that hit me all at once; anger, relief, sadness. I was angry at myself for dating Eddie even though I knew my feelings for him would never grow past our friendship. Relief because a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. But the sadness I felt hurt the most. I lost my friend. Things between were never going to be the same again.
Eddie turned away to hide the sadness in his face but then his nostrils flared. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“Who?” I asked, confused.
I followed Eddie’s gaze, and right below the school steps, Milo was leaning against his motorcycle, enjoying the admiration from the girls at my school.
My jaw hardened, and I felt like my world was going to fall apart. What was he doing here? As if dealing with one asshole wasn’t enough, now I had to deal with another one? I glanced around in search for Dylan hoping he was with Dawn somewhere—the reason for Milo’s visit—but it was just him. There was no way he came here for me. Or did he? No. Of course not. Why would he? There must be another reason. My mind was racing simultaneously with my heart.
I considered walking back into the school and taking a different route, but it was too late. The moment Milo laid eyes on me, his smile widened like he’d just hit the lotto.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
Keeping my distance, I continued walking in the direction of Julian’s car.
“Hey! Girl in the black Mustang,” Milo called after me.
My face turned beet red, and I felt like Milo had punched me deep in my gut. He had my journal.
“What’d you say?” I asked horrified.
“Girl in the black Mustang. From the comic?” He took out the journal from his back pocket and leafed through the pages. I rushed to Milo and tried snatching the journal, but he lifted the book high in the air and out of my reach. He chuckled, pleased he hit a nerve.
“It’s not a comic book,” I said gritting my teeth. “Give me back my journal!”
“You have to go out with me first,” he said. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the other night, you know. Your legs wrapped around me…” He spoke in a slow sensual voice a little too loud, some of the kids heard him then the whispers began, the giggles, the stares.
“Shut up!” I growled. “You know this”—I pointed at him— “whole bad-boy persona with the motorcycle and the leather jacket is kinda lame and a bit of a cliché, don’t you think?”
He chuckled. “I invented the bad-boy,” he purred. “All the other wannabes are just a bunch of posers.”
I crossed my arms and huffed. “Whatever.”
THE TRAGIC + DIVINE, Book 1 Page 9