Savannah kept going in and out of consciousness and was on the brink of falling into the bathtub, so I picked her up and dragged her into the bedroom across the hallway. And right when I laid her down, I saw my journal sticking out of her purse.
Jackpot.
Taking the journal, I made a dash for the door, as soon as I opened it, I ran into someone I didn’t expect to see again.
Milo James was standing right in front of me wearing his signature smirk, leather jacket, torn jeans, and a white t-shirt.
Damn. His smoldering eyes had my heart beating at a hundred miles per second.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice tight.
“I was invited,” he said, sounding pleased by my displeasure.
“By who?” But I didn’t have to guess. Dawn waved to me the moment she saw me. She was in the living room with Dylan. I narrowed my eyes at her drilling straight through them. “Aren’t you a little old to be hanging around with high schoolers?”
“Age is nothing but a number,” he said nonchalantly as if it were normal for teenagers and century-old angels to party together. “You’re never too old to party.”
“I thought angels were supposed to be good and holy? How come you’re not out saving people?” I teased.
“Where’s the fun in being righteous? Besides, I’m too busy pursuing a stubborn hazel-eyed girl from a small town who won’t go out with me.” He leaned his shoulder into the wall then crossed his arms. “I think I’m going to put in a little overtime to convince her I’m not the bad guy she thinks I am.”
Holy hell. Milo was totally hitting on me, and I stood there like a frozen idiot. My eyes widened as I tried to search for a comeback.
“You still owe me a tour around your town, you know,” he continued closing in on me. I stepped back a little flustered.
“I already told you—”
“Is there a problem here?” Eddie walked up straightening his stance as if to gain an inch in height, but Milo stood a foot taller than Eddie. “Alexis, is this guy bothering you?”
“No,” I said shaking my head.
Eddie shot Milo a threatening look, like a dog overstepping his territory. But Milo stayed cool and composed not threatened at all by Eddie.
“How about you get lost,” Eddie said glaring at Milo, scrutinizing his attire. “Rebel without a cause.”
Without taking his eyes off mine, Milo said, “I have a cause. And I’m looking at it right now.”
Eddie’s eyes darted between us, absolutely livid. “What’d you say?”
He shoved Milo into the wall, picture frames came crashing down. Milo grabbed Eddie by the collar and flung him down the hallway with great force, Eddie’s howling screams echoed throughout the house. Eddie ended up in the living room where the crowd watched in amazement. I heard someone from the kitchen shout ‘fight,’ and the rest of the party rushed in and circled them.
My gut twisted in horror as I watched Eddie swing at Milo aiming for his jaw but Milo ducked beneath him, lifted Eddie off the ground and slammed him on a couch causing it to flip back. I didn’t know what to do. I thought about getting in between them, but I was too afraid I’d accidentally get punched.
That’s when I heard the roar of motorcycles—many of them. Bright headlights swept across the living room. Everyone at the party ran towards the windows facing the front yard. We were surrounded by maybe ten or fifteen of them. As soon as they slid off their motorcycles, the angels unfurled their wings to appear bigger. They were dressed like punks and metalheads in leather, spiked collars, and different colored hair in bright hues. One angel flew onto the roof of the house. Those who were inside looked up to the ceiling and followed the sound of footsteps to the backyard. But nothing happened.
Suddenly, the angel dangled off the roof and screamed, “Boo!” He laughed menacingly at all of those who jumped back.
The angels out front lit firecrackers and threw them at anyone who got in the way. Some of the girls from my school gawked wide-eyed with huge grins at the gorgeous long-haired angels with androgynous facial features, while the boys were horrified.
The angels swarmed into the living room shoving and pushing anyone in their path. Once inside, the angels retracted their wings and stood behind Dylan, Lee, Trent, and Milo ready to fight.
When Eddie got up, I stepped in front go him and pushed Eddie back. “Please stop!”
But he shoved me aside.
“This is between me and you,” Eddie told Milo eyeing the gang of angels. “One-on-one.”
“Come at me.” Milo waved Eddie over with his hand.
“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, faster, and hard as rocks. I saw proof of this when 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.
Blue and red lights enveloped the room. Someone yelled, “Pigs!” 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.
I froze.
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 up 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.
Milo pulled me up, my body collided into his. He held me tightly, his hand around my waist, and our faces inches apart. We both breathed heavily, the warmth of his breath licked the side of my neck making it tickle. He gave me a quick peck on the lips shocking my lips with a zap of static electricity and taking me by surprise.
“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 finds you here.”
“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 hallway 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 where they hang out,” 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 the rumors about me.
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 by staring into your eyes?”
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.
THE TRAGIC + DIVINE Page 9