The Halo Chronicles: The Guardian

by Carey Corp

  Derry stares at Gabriel’s hand as if it’s an alien man-eating bug. “I can’t say the same about you.”

  Gracefully, Gabriel lets his hand drop to his side. “Don’t worry. I’m one of the good guys.”

  Icily, Derry replies, “If you’re with Lexi, I’m sure you are.” Then he turns away, pulling me with him and mumbling under his breath. I can’t be sure, but it sounds like he says, “That doesn’t mean I’ve got to like you.”

  At lunch, I have the great pleasure of introducing Derry to Becke and Jonah. Derry politely shakes both their hands then circles around the table toward me. Gabriel’s sitting on my left, and instead of taking the seat to my right, Derry wedges himself between us. With an overly genial smile he asks, “You don’t mind, do you Gabe? Lexi and I haven’t seen each other in forever.”

  “Certainly, Derrick.” Gabriel makes room. As he slides over, I catch the amusement dancing in his eyes.

  Wrapping his arm around me in an excessively possessive gesture that makes Becke and Jonah smirk, Derry says, “So, tell me about your fosters.”

  “Oh, no,” I counter. “You just dropped off the face of the earth for the past four months. You first.”

  He’s so proud of himself he practically twitches with laughter. “You see—” His expression turns sheepish as he faces me. “I’ve been moving around a lot.”

  And because I know him so well—I can tell I’m not going to like his explanation. “Why?”

  Squeezing me, he laughs. “Why do you think?”

  But I know what it takes to move around in the system, the lies and manipulation, sometimes finding yourself in terrible situations with negligent custodians or dangerous kids, and always looking over your shoulder, sleeping with one eye open. The significance of his actions passes between us without words and he hangs his head. Giving me his best puppy dog expression, he asks, “Are you really gonna be mad at me for wanting to be with you?”

  When I continue to glare at him, he appeals to Becke and Jonah. “Lexi’s my best friend in the world, and I missed her so much. Do you guys think she should be mad at me after all the trouble I took to get here?”

  Despite not knowing the awful details, my friends are already won over by Derry’s carefree spirit. Shaking their heads, they align with him. “No.” “Definitely not.” Traitors.

  “How about you, Gabe? Do you think your girlfriend should be mad at me?”

  Gabriel raises his hands in a sign of neutrality. “I think Alex can’t help what she feels, especially regarding the people she cares about.”

  “Who asked you anyway?” Dismissively he turns back to me, pleading, “I know you missed me, too, Lexi. Please don’t be mad at me. Pleeeeeeease?”

  “What you did was dangerous.”

  “I know.”

  “And in all that time you didn’t even call me. I was worried sick!”

  “I just wanted to surprise you. Besides you would’ve tried to talk sense into me. And I didn’t want to be sensible, I wanted you.” As I continue to glare, he becomes so contrite I can feel myself caving. He bats his eyelashes knowing he’s won our little skirmish. In a quiet voice meant just for me, he asks, “So do you forgive me?”

  “If you promise never ever to do something like that again.”

  He weighs my conditions before seeking clarification. “What? The moving around or not contacting you?”

  “Both!”

  “Fine. I promise never to do something so stupid ever again. And you’re right, I should’ve called. I’m sorry if you were worried. But I got here as fast as I could.” He bites at his lip before admitting, “Actually, I was kind of worried you’d moved on already.”

  I want to tell him Alex would’ve moved on, but I’m not her, not anymore. Would Derry get that? How I’m changing—growing into a new person? Just over Derry’s shoulder, I meet Gabriel’s warm, knowing eyes. He smiles at me encouragingly as I say, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here for a long time.”

  “Oh… Well that’s good—surprising, but good.” Derry’s gaze flickers briefly to Gabriel before settling again on me. “Now it’s your turn. What’re your fosters like?”

  Although Gabriel and my friends know Derry and I are foster kids, it still feels strange talking about this in front of them. “They’re—nice, actually. They don’t have any kids of their own, so it’s just me.”

  “And they’re taking good care of you?”

  Nodding I pull my lunch from my school bag. As I unpack my turkey sandwich on wholegrain and baggie of grapes, I add, “They’re really great.”

  With great significance he asks, “What’re their names?”

  When we were twelve we came up with this theory about foster parents and their names. The nicer the couple’s names the nicer they’d be as custodians. For example Dean and Michelle Young would be better fosters than Lou and Wanda Freimeier or Harold and Betty Stickle. This concept came from crack analysis of all the foster parents we’d known—both personally and from other kids’ tales—and for the most part has held disturbingly true.

  “Kate and Steven Foster.”

  “No—what are their names, really?”

  Unfazed, I repeat myself. “Foster. Really.”

  “Wait—your fosters are the Fosters?” When I nod, he nearly explodes with laughter that shakes his entire body . “That’s funny, Lexi.”

  Smiling at his reaction, I can’t help but agree, “I guess it is, kinda. What about yours?”

  “Earl and Tina Eccles.” He shrugs but I catch the hint of a grimace around his mouth.. “They’re okay.” They sound dreadful, but I keep that to myself.

  Derry reaches into his backpack and takes out a single squished peanut butter sandwich in cellophane. I wait for more, but he closes his pack and drops it behind him on the floor. When we were together at the center, Derry’s appetite was famous. He ate anything and was grateful to have it. There’s a story behind it but it’s not mine to tell, so I’m careful not to reveal anything in my tone as I ask, “Is that all you brought?”

  He just looks at me; his eyes, slate gray with amber and walnut flecks, radiate tranquility. “I’m not eating as much these days.” Opening the plastic, he breaks off a small piece and slowly pops it into his mouth savoring it. He’s skinny, and his new height makes him appear even more so. Although he’s taller than Gabriel by a few inches, Derry probably weighs twenty to thirty pounds less. Suddenly, I’m worried his gaunt appearance is due to more than a growth spurt.

  “You’re so skinny. Are you—all right?”

  “I’m perfect… now.”

  When his answer does nothing to smooth the concern puckering my forehead, he nudges me playfully with his shoulder before becoming somber. “I’m fine, Lexi. I would tell you if I wasn’t—pinky promise.” I’ve got a vague feeling he’s keeping something from me, but decide to take him at his word. He gives me a satisfied smile when I lift my pinky to meet his, as I have hundreds of times before. “Still, I like that you worry about me.” Then swiveling his head around, he adds, “Did you hear that, Gabe? She worries about me.”

  Gabriel meets my eyes as he hands me my share of his Oreos. The wellspring of his understanding is awe-inspiring. “She cares about you Derrick. It’s right she should care. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  Doing a double take, Derry’s eyes narrow shrewdly. “You’re kind of a suck-up, aren’t you Gabe?” He helps himself to one of the cookies in my hand, twisting it apart and cutting off Gabriel’s protest by saying, “Hey, don’t be offended, some people like suck-ups. How about you, Lexi? You like suck-ups?”

  Rolling my eyes, I give Derry a light shove. “I like Gabriel. So play nice, or else.”

  “Fine!” Then to Becke and Jonah he states, “She used to be able to take a joke.”

  “I can still take a joke. I’m just waiting for someone to say something funny.”

  Jonah bursts out in laughter at this. “She’s got you there, dude.”

  The sh
rill clang of the lunch bell makes us devour the remains of our food like those drooling dogs in that psychological study by Pavlov Somebody. As Gabriel clears the table Derry regards his schedule. “I’ve got English next. What-all do you guys have?” When we mumble English, he says, “Cool.” But our lack of enthusiasm causes him to bite his lower lip. “What’s wrong with English—other than it’s English?”

  “Nothing,” Becke replies. “They just don’t like Mr. Abernathy.”

  “You mean, Mr. Creepy,” Jonah interjects with a frown.

  “The teacher?” Derry unconsciously runs his right hand over his left forearm inquiring, “How bad could he be?”

  The way he touches his left arm is a dead giveaway he’s picking up on our anxiety. And I’m the only one who realizes, who’s seen all the shiny, round scars from where his mom’s boyfriend used his arm to put out cigarettes. Derry was still in diapers then, but those were the good days, back before his mom abandoned him to the boyfriend’s care. Before the boyfriend put his young, malnourished charge in the hospital with injuries so severe they needed to put the kindergartener in a drug induced coma for nearly four months of his life.

  All this flashes through my mind as Becke elaborates with a shake of her head. “He’s not a bad teacher. He’s won all kinds of awards, and in his spare time he coaches Special Olympics. I mean, everyone likes him.”

  Darkly Jonah mumbles, “Especially the girls.”

  With a small huff, Becke chides playfully, “I think you boys are just jealous.”

  Behind his girlfriend’s back, Jonah shoots Gabriel and me a look of significance. Clearly he knows Mr. Creepy’s so much more evil than that—and he knows that we know.

  Looping his arm around Becke’s shoulders, Jonah says tightly, “Just sit by us, Derrick, and you’ll be fine.” I wonder exactly what Jonah knows, what he sees. Although now’s not the time, I file the questions away for later.

  Mr. Creepy’s watching as we walk into his class. He notices Derry’s arm linked in mine and something in his dark, cold halo stirs, slithering across his torso like a slimy tentacle. I feel Gabriel’s hand against my back as Mr. Creepy’s eyes turn into small slits, his lips thinning into a disapproving, gray slash.

  Halfway across the room, Derry lets me go to present our teacher with his transfer slip. As he turns to rejoin our little group, Mr. Creepy raises his head with a smirk. “Wait, please, Mr.—uh—Williams.”

  Obediently, Derry turns back around, but I don’t miss how his right arm curls over his left. His eyes flash on mine, a shared look of trepidation passing briefly between us.

  “Sit here, please. Mr. Williams.” He indicates the far left seat of the front row, which is empty except for a swooning Kendra Douglas.

  “But I was gonna sit with my friends—”

  Mr. Creepy’s attempt at a fatherly façade falls terribly short. “My class, my rules, Mr. Williams. Based on your previous English grades, I have concerns you could get too distracted sitting in the back of the room.” He walks nonchalantly around his desk. “I find underachievers like you do better when sitting in the first row.”

  “But—”

  As Mr. Creepy sits pretending to review lesson plans, his halo begins to squirm around him in a frenzied motion. “Of course, your friends are more than welcome to come up and join you. Becke? Alexia?” He holds my eyes and I see the victory he believes he’s won. My stomach lurches, but I’m nowhere close to incapacitated like in those first few days. I wonder if my subdued reaction is a direct result of Gabriel’s angelic presence or more due to the lack of fear having a protector brings.

  As I meet Derry’s hopeful eyes, Gabriel’s grip on my arm tightens. I glance from my best friend to my boyfriend. Gabriel’s impassive face is severe as he gives me a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. No.

  Mouthing “I’m sorry,” I slowly pull away and walk toward the front of the class. When Gabriel tries to follow, Mr. Creepy intervenes without looking up.

  “Mr. Kustosz, you may remain in your regular seat.”

  Gabriel doesn’t back away. He just glares at Mr. Creepy, a determined set to his jaw. His halo’s so glorious I resist the urge to shield my eyes.

  Standing directly between Gabriel and Mr. Creepy, light and darkness, I feel the clash of power unleashed by their confrontation. And I feel like a helpless pawn, a casualty of their invisible battle. Frozen. Until Derry, tugging gently at my arm, frees me from my momentary paralysis, and we slip silently into our new seats.

  Still feigning disinterest, Mr. Creepy drawls in a bored tone, “Now Mr. Kustosz. Or do I need to kick you out of my class?”

  Seeming to consider this newest option, Gabriel’s eyes dart to me before reacting. Rigidly taking his third row seat near Jonah and Becke, he continues to stare in defiance. I try to catch his gaze, to mutely apologize, but he stays stubbornly fixated on our teacher.

  Mr. Creepy, however, continues to ignore him. Instead, he turns his feverish scrutiny toward me. About two-thirds of the way through his lesson he begins to pace, circling around the first row. When he gets to me, he stops, but his ink-like halo continues to writhe. He spends the rest of the period hovering over me.

  Lingering.

  When the bell rings, Jonah slips out with Becke while both Derry and Gabriel come for me at once. Working in tandem, they usher me into the hallway. I can feel the rage rolling off them in waves of testosterone.

  Derry’s dark brows are creased into a sharp ‘v’ and his fingers painfully dig into my forearms as he demands, “What’s with that guy?” Looking into his eyes, I can tell he sees Mr. Creepy for what he really is—but how?

  Placing a rough hand against my cheek, Gabriel pulls my attention away from Derry. “Are you okay, Alex?”

  Meekly I nod, losing myself in the anguish of my guardian angel’s eyes. “I think so.” Then, wanting privacy, I turn to Derry. “Have you got P.E. next?” I ask tentatively.

  He’s still angry. The taut muscles of his neck twitch and his lower lip juts out petulantly as he answers. “No. Biology.”

  Becke picks up on my unspoken need and chimes in. “I’ve got Biology too. Would you like to walk with us?” Reluctantly, Derry nods. With one final glance at me, he lets Becke and Jonah lead him away.

  Before they disappear around the corner, I call out, “Let’s meet up after school. Out front, okay?” By then Derry’s gone, but his upturned thumb shoots back into view indicating his agreement.

  Taking hold of Gabriel, I smile reassuringly before leading him in the other direction. “Back to your question—it wasn’t as bad as the first few days. Did you have something to do with that?”

  “Maybe. But you did too. You’re stronger than you think.”

  His face remains stoic, hard and detached, but still heartbreakingly beautiful. Pulling him into an alcove, I ask, “Are you mad at me for sitting with Derry?”

  I see the surprise in his cerulean eyes as he chokes out, “No!”

  “Well—are you jealous of him, then?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Good! Because Derry’s important to me.”

  “I understand. Probably even better than you do.” With a sigh, he rakes his fingers through his hair, “It’s just—”

  “What?”

  “I was going crazy back there! I couldn’t protect you, not the way I wanted to.” He drags me into his arms, squeezing me against his chest so hard it hurts. After a second, his hold relaxes until there’s no longer any pain. Surrounded by his body, I’m enveloped in his warmth and his calming, outdoorsy scent.

  Gabriel’s voice is low and gravelly, close against my ear. “All I want to do is keep you safe but in class today, with that—that—monster leering at you, I felt so helpless. I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry.”

  Shaken by his outburst, his lack of composure, my hands wriggle free of his grip to wrap around his neck. “Shhh,” I croon, burying my nose into his fragrant skin at the base of his throat. “It was my choice but I ne
ver would’ve had the strength to make it if you weren’t there. Besides if I was really in danger, nothing could’ve stopped you.” I know this to be true with all my heart, but feeling his head nod against my hair emboldens me to continue. “You are keeping me safe, and sane, helping me to grow strong. And I love you for that.”

  As we cling to one another it slips from my mouth unbidden and unplanned—the closest I’ve come to a confession of my feelings—said aloud. Breathlessly, I wait for his response.

  After a second, Gabriel pulls back, composed once again. Tucking a rogue strand of hair behind my ear, he smiles down at me, the expression in the depths of his eyes unfathomable. “We should get to class.”

  It’s as if he hasn’t even heard me.

  After school, Derry’s waiting outside. Gawking at him, I can still hardly believe he’s here. Arms wrapped around his thin frame to ward off the chill, his too-small jacket seems insufficient for winter. The cold wind whips about his ill-fitting clothes, and his buzzed head desperately needs a hat. But with kids like us, when your chief concern is survival, food and safety, clothing never ranks all that high.

  Moving toward him with Gabriel at my side, I’m overly conscious of my new downy coat, my expensive fuzzy boots, and realize with a stab of guilt, I’m no longer that kind of kid. Longingly, I wish with all my heart Derry wasn’t either.

  When we get close enough to be heard over the wind, Derry raises his eyebrows at me mockingly. “Does Gabe go everywhere with you? And doesn’t the lack of privacy create complications in the bathroom?”

  Mirroring his expression, I retort, “We walk to and from school together. Do you have a problem with it?”

  “Seems like you two do everything together.” Although his tone’s flippant, I see a flash of something raw move across the surface of his eyes.

  Holding on to the knowledge that our reunion isn’t what Derry envisioned and a lot of change for a kid like him to process, I try to be patient. “Look, I know this isn’t quite what you expected, but you’re still my best friend. Gabriel doesn’t change that—nothing can change that—except you.”

  Staring at him in an unspoken challenge, I feel Derry search for the truth in my eyes, my soul. Finally he looks down at his shabby Converse sneakers, wiggling his toes under the fraying green fabric of the cloth, and mumbles, “I’m sorry, Lexi. I guess I’m just not used to you having a boyfriend.” Apologetically he meets my unflinching gaze. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t get used to it.”