THE TRAGIC + DIVINE

by MELODY FELIX-PRIETO

  “Your phone.”

  “I accidentally broke it.” It wasn’t a lie. I did break it. Unfortunately, my mother saw the new phone charging on the bedroom floor. She bent over to collect the phone and found the walkie-talkie Milo gave me underneath my bed. I held my breath and hoped she’d leave it behind, it was my only communication with Milo. She admired it for a moment then walked out of the room with it.

  I let out a loud groan and repeatedly punched the pillow. I wasn’t looking forward to school. When I lifted my head, I realized the picture with Priscilla had been moved. It was sitting on the edge of the bed and not on the nightstand where I kept it. How did it get there? I picked it up and quickly glanced at the picture, but something caught my eye, something I’d seen so many times before but never paid any attention to. Examining the photograph, I noticed Priscilla’s faint tattoo on her hand between her index finger and dumb, it was in the shape of a—star.

  I dropped the picture frame. It was the exact same symbol Milo tattooed on me last night. Then an awful thought dawned on me, what if Milo was Priscilla’s boyfriend?

  The cafeteria was so noisy during lunch my ears were ringing, and the fluorescent lights above were making my head spin. Dawn kept babbling about Dylan and how he was practically her boyfriend as Julian played with his nails. I sat slouched over the table with one hand on my face, and the other poking holes in the disgusting square pizza. I’d been so mad, I couldn’t eat. All through the first half of school, I stared at the clock watching the day drag slowly.

  The sound of Dylan’s name made my ears irk with annoyance. I listened to Dawn go on about Dylan completely repulsed by Dawn’s obsession over him until I couldn’t handle it any longer. I straightened in my seat ready to tell Dawn the truth, but hesitated. Say it, Alexis, tell Dawn he’s cheating on her.

  “He comes over almost every night, it’s like we’re living together—”

  “He’s using you!” I blurted. Well, that didn’t come out as smoothly as I’d hoped.

  “Excuse me?” Dawn snapped her attention to me.

  “Are you so blind you don’t see he’s only using you for sex?” I saw the hurt in Dawn’s eyes. She turned to Julian who slid to the side separating himself from the conversation.

  “Oh no, you two keep me out of this,” Julian said turning away.

  “You deserve better.”

  “Dylan would never do that. Besides, he’s with me all the time—”

  “Do you ever meet him anywhere else other than your room?” I asked cutting her off.

  Dawn didn’t have to say anything. Her expression said it all. I looked down at my nails unable to look her in the eye. “I saw him, Dawn. More than once.”

  Julian’s mouth dropped open as he shot me a warning glare.

  “Well someone’s jealous,” Dawn snorted.

  “Of what? A nonexistent relationship with an angel who barely calls?”

  “Dylan calls me. Every night, actually.”

  “For what? A booty call?” I narrowed my eyes.

  I was being a bitch. I should’ve ended the conversation there, continued on with my day but I felt Dawn needed to come to her senses instead of living in a stupid fairy tale.

  Dawn scoffed then shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Has he asked you to be his girlfriend?”

  One look at Julian had me regretting my decision to spill the beans on Dylan. He was so mortified, all he could do was shake his head.

  Dawn blinked then shifted uncomfortably. “Not yet.”

  “He’s using you,” I said again.

  Dawn’s eyes became glossy, my heart sank. There was a burning sensation that crept up my throat, I hated seeing my friend hurt.

  “He’s not using me. We live in the moment, without labels.”

  I rolled my eyes hard.

  “You think you’re better than me Alexis?” Dawn shot. “You think you’re more capable of choosing the right guys given your track record?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “Milo.”

  “What about him?” I growled.

  “You actually think he’s serious about you?”

  I didn’t say anything. Dawn grabbed her bag and ran out of the cafeteria. I felt like a terrible friend. Was she hinting at something Milo may have said about me or done that I didn’t know about?

  Julian shook his head in disapproval.

  “I told you she wasn’t going to believe you. I bet you anything she’s gonna call him right now to confront him, and paint you as the lying, jealous friend who wants him.”

  “I don’t care. She had to know.”

  “What’s up with you, anyway? You’ve been mopping around all day. It’s depressing.”

  “I got caught sneaking into my room last night,” I said lowering my head.

  Julian’s eyebrows rose. “Sorry, girl.”

  Suddenly, the intercom on the wall crackled to life.

  “Alexis Minerva, please come to the principal’s office,” the female voice on the other end said. Behind me, an echo of ooh’s and giggles spread around the cafeteria. I tried my best to ignore them as I made the walk of shame toward the principal’s office. I knew what was coming. I just hoped whatever punishment I got, Milo was worth the trouble.

  Principal Abraham was on the phone when I arrived. He lifted a finger to indicate I hold on. I sunk in the chair, palms sweaty. After principal Abraham finished, he looked at me.

  “What’s going on with you, Alexis?” he asked. “Your History teacher said you left in the middle of his class and didn’t return. Is this true?”

  Nothing came out of my mouth.

  “First quarter report cards are in, you’ve dropped a few points on your grades.”

  “I’m sorry Principal Abraham, I’ve been distracted.”

  “By angels?”

  My eyes widened. How did he know?”

  “It’s a small town, people talk,” he said answering my question. I remained silent. There was nothing I could do to get out whatever punishment I was getting. I had no excuses. My distractions—Milo—and family drama had taken over my life. Lately, I’d been acting like a completely different person. Something was happening to me, something strange. I was doing things I swore I’d never do; gambling, hanging out with angels, skipping school. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of who I was becoming.

  My mind drifted as Principal Abraham laid out the conditions of my punishment. All I could do was shrug as he gave me one week of in-school suspension and revoked my driving privileges for the rest of the year. I was to report after school to the janitor every day for a week to help. My life had officially turned into hell.

  When the last bell rang, I rushed out of school toward the buses. Milo was standing by his motorcycle waiting. His head perked up when he saw me. The words Dawn said to me earlier still lingered in my head quickly replaced by the possibility Milo was Priscilla’s boyfriend. I had to confront him about the tattoo, but this wasn’t the right place or the right time.

  I hesitantly walked up to him completely aware of the stares by my classmates.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Now is not a good time.”

  “It’s important,” he said in a serious tone.

  “Is it about my sister? The tattoo?”

  Guilt flashed his expression. He tipped his chin up, stuck his hands inside his jacket pocket, and turned away. “I know her.”

  “You know my sister?” My heart ripped into tiny pieces. Milo knew my sister. He was the elusive angel boyfriend Priscilla kept a secret—I was sure of it. I wanted to cry, I wanted to scream. A part of me didn’t want to hear Milo admit it. “How do you—”

  The rumbling sound of a pick-up truck cut me off. Mason and his jocks blocked Milo’s bike. Shit, this wasn’t good.

  “I thought I told you to stay out of Dixon,” Mason sneered at Milo.

  “I don�
��t want any trouble,” Milo told him.

  “Chicken shit? You’re not so brave without your gang of quills.” Mason pushed Milo, but Milo didn’t reciprocate. Instead, he kept his cool even though he was now surrounded by Vance and a handful of football players.

  “You don’t want to do this Mason,” I warned as I tried to step in between them.

  “Back off you quill loving bitch!” Mason shoved me into the brick wall. Milo’s dark eyes sparked with anger. He opened his hands at his side, his palms pulsed with energy that shook the ground. Mason lunged at him, Milo blasted Mason with an invisible force, Mason slid across the school lawn colliding with a group of students. Their shrieks pierced the air sending waves of panic to the rest of the student body.

  Vance grabbed a baseball bat out of the back of the pickup and swung. Milo caught the bat with one hand and crushed it into dust. Vance’s eyes widened. Milo kicked him in the chest that sent Vance into the truck leaving a dent on the door. The rest of the jocks swarmed in, one by one, Milo used whatever power was coming from his hands to shove them out of the way—loud grunts and bodies thudded to the ground. They were no match for Milo’s speed.

  The students who were inside the buses stuck their heads out through the windows with phones on hand recording the fight. Milo grabbed one of the jocks by the collar, threw him to the ground, then repeatedly punched his face.

  “Stop!” I shouted. I tried to pull Milo back by the arm, but I felt the sharp jab of his elbow right on my left eye. I fell back scraping my hands on the pavement. Milo stopped, rushed to me, but it was too late. The damage was done. Milo tried to reach for my face, but I pulled back. His eyebrows furrowed with concern, pain flicked his eyes as he searched mine and realized I was afraid of him. This was my first glimpse at Milo’s true strength. He could kill any human with one blow, and that terrified me.

  Milo looked around distraught by the damage he’d caused, the students he’d hurt, the frightened faces. He looked down at his shaky hands afraid he’d lost control. He rose up, quickly hopped on his bike and sped away down the sidewalk.

  CHAPTER

  25

  When I got home, I ran straight to my room. Slamming the door shut, I took a glimpse in the mirror. My eye was beginning to swell and turn red. I grazed my fingers over it and flinched in pain. Anger began to bubble inside me. My life was turning into a nightmare. My mother didn’t trust me, I was being bullied at school because of Milo, and now Milo hurt me. Even if it was an accident, it was no excuse for what he’d done, not just to me but to the students involved who also got hurt.

  I scanned my room accessing the mess, the torn film still littered the floor. My hard work gone. I almost cried. My nostrils flared, anger simmering in my blood again. I picked up the picture frame containing Priscilla’s photograph and flung it against the wall. But it didn’t shatter. It went through a wood panel that opened like a small door that had previously been covered by one of my movie posters.

  That’s weird, I thought. I’d never seen it before.

  I moved closer to the opening and took a peek. Inside, there were stacks of photo albums sitting on top of an old shoebox covered in dust and spiderwebs. Taking everything out, I flipped through the photo albums first; they were full of old family pictures with my dad when we lived in Los Angeles. It was my first time seeing them. I didn’t even know we had them. I smiled at the sweet memory of our family at the beach, almost in tears at how happy we looked.

  Moving on to the shoebox, I found more pictures. This time of a teenage Priscilla. Her friends smiled as they posed in front of a row of lockers at Dixon High, there were many handwritten letters from her friends, old movie stubs from The North Star Drive-In. But I froze when I saw Priscilla’s arm wrapped around his neck with her lips on his cheek. I almost threw up. He hasn’t aged at all.

  But that wasn’t the worst I found.

  There was a tiny hospital ID bracelet from a convent called Our Holy Mother Mary with Isaac’s name on it. The mother listed on the bracelet—Priscilla.

  I dropped the bracelet as if it had rabies. It’s not possible—how? Priscilla was Isaac’s mother.

  “Alexis!” I heard Isaac holler. “Hurry! Come downstairs!”

  I took the picture of Priscilla with him and stuffed it in my back pocket. Grabbing the tiny bracelet, I rushed downstairs and stumbled into the living room. Isaac was sitting in front of the TV while my mother watched the anchorwoman standing in front of a school. There was a red banner at the bottom of the screen that said BREAKING NEWS: 15 STUDENTS INJURED AFTER ANGEL ATTACK.

  “We are live at Dixon High school where a small community was rocked by an angel attack. At least fifteen students were injured and taken to the local hospital. Here is a look at the video footage taken today and streamed live on social media.”

  Shaky cell phone footage of Milo fighting off Mason and his friends appeared on the TV. I wanted to crawl under a rock. I caught a glimpse of the navy blue striped shirt I wore to school in the background. My skin paled then went numb. I saw a flare of anger on my mother’s face.

  “I can explain,” I began, but my mother rushed to her room where she kneeled before that thing in her bathroom and began to pray. I ran after her, anger seeping through my veins over my mother’s profound devotion to La Santa Muerte.

  “Tell me where you sent Priscilla.” I held up the bracelet eye-level to my mother’s face. She snatched the bracelet from my hand and stuffed it in her pocket.

  “Where did you find it?”

  “It was inside a shoe box, hidden.”

  In a hushed tone, she said, “No one can know about Isaac. If they find out, they’ll take him. I’m sure of it!”

  I shook my head, fished the picture inside my pocket and showed it to my mother. “Isaac is not Nephilim. It’s not possible.”

  My mother stared at the picture of Priscilla and Eli.

  “He’s not the father,” my mother confirmed. “It’s the other one. The one with the bright blue eyes.”

  My mother’s words shook at my core. Dylan was Isaac’s father. But how? I searched through all of Priscilla’s photographs, none were of Dylan. Eli was the angel Priscilla was in love with, Eli was the boyfriend.

  “I knew it the day he came to the house looking for Priscilla. I’ll never forget his eyes. They’re just like—”

  “Don’t say it,” I exclaimed. “Dylan is not the father.” I refused to believe it, but I could see the truth in my mother’s torn-stricken eyes. Then her expression turned serious. “Listen to me Alexis, do not say a word to anyone, not even to Isaac. He’ll come looking for him.” She panicked.

  “Who?”

  That’s when all the lights in the house went out. I heard Isaac groan from the living room. Our teacup chihuahua, Killer, growled and barked.

  “What’s happening?” I asked.

  The front door swung open, a shadowy figure flew past my mother’s bedroom.

  “What was that?” I jerked back.

  “Mom, I’m scared!” Isaac ran to my mother’s room with Killer in his arms who wouldn’t stop barking.

  Alarmed, my mother hid Isaac inside her closet. “Stay in here. Whatever happens, do not come out,” she warned taking Killer from his arms. Isaac shook his head in obedience. I heard a low growl coming from the kitchen. My mother grabbed Paul’s folding knife out of her dresser

  “Stay right here,” she commanded.

  “No, I’m coming with you,” I replied in defiance.

  I tip-toed slowly behind my mother as she cautiously ventured through the hallway and into the kitchen. The air smelled heavily of rotten eggs and sulfur. A trail of trash littered the kitchen floor that led to the refrigerator. Someone was inside rummaging through the food eating and slurping with intense hunger.

  I took a step back, stepping on a loose floorboard it creaked, the person in the refrigerator froze then stopped eating, slowly turned around its neck clicking like the girl from The Exorcist. It was Paul. The blood drained f
rom my face at the sight of his horrific distorted face and jet black eyes. A horrible bestial shriek escaped his throat shaking the wood floors beneath my feet. My mother’s breathing became erratic.

  “Paul?” she said, her voice trembling.

  My hands began to shake uncontrollably as I backed away slowly. Paul leaped over the island and lunged at my mother. I shoved her out of the way, Paul landed on top of me and dug his sharp fingernails into my arm. I screamed in agonizing pain. He opened his mouth, slimy phlegm dripping from the sides, and let out another anguished cry exposing his rotting jagged teeth. His hot breath swept over my face like steam that reeked of death. I tried to push Paul off me when his body suddenly flew through the doorway and into the back room. I remained on the floor gripping my bloody arm gasping for clean air and coughing my lungs out. My mother rushed to me and examined the wounds.

  “Are you okay?” she asked frantically.

  “I’m fine,” I reassured her.

  I looked up just when Paul charged Milo like a Spanish bull through a set of French doors that led to the back yard. Milo landed in a sea of shattered glass. Milo stood up and brushed off pieces of glass from his shoulders. My ears rang at the menacing howl that escaped Paul’s lips before he lunged at Milo. This time, Milo caught him by the throat and tossed him further into the back lawn through the overgrown brush. I ran upstairs to my room, and onto the balcony, my mother came rushing behind me. She was hyperventilating.

  “He’s going to kill him!” she shrieked.

  The ominous dark clouds were beginning to close in threatening to release at any moment. Milo swung his fist into Paul’s face that sent him flying into the dirt leaving a huge dent in the ground. I felt a deep chill as a droplet of water fell on my cheek. Then the rain poured down. Milo and Paul circled each other, rain dripping down their faces. Paul opened his mouth exposing his sharp fangs, leaped forward, but Milo caught him by the arm, twisted Paul around and wrapped his arms around him and squeezed until the veins on Paul’s face bulged out.