Winging It!: Confessions of an Angel in Training (Confessions of an Angel-In-Training Book 1)

by Shel Delisle

  Very funny. A sign from Michael. Except it would be a lot more helpful if it let me know who I was supposed to protect.

  “Grace.” Finn clasps my hand. “Do you want mine?” His clear blue eyes gaze up at me as he holds out his cookie.

  “Sure, Finn. That’s really sweet of you. Thanks. ” I tear the wrapper and break open the cookie.

  This one reads: It’s right in front of your nose. If you’d done your homework…

  Finn is still gazing at me. “Did you get a good one?”

  I’m so relieved it’s Finn. Truly. When he smiles, my heart melts, so I couldn’t have asked for a better first assignment.

  “It’s wonderful,” I tell him. “Thank you.”

  Then, between thumb and forefinger, I smooth out the paper just to re-read the message.

  It now reads: For goodness’s sake! Not Finn, his sister.

  God! Nooooooooooo!

  I open it one last time, hopeful the message has changed again. It has. Now it says: I told you‌—‌watch your language! AND do your homework!

  Chapter 5

  After dinner, Tara’s won’t stop texting, so there’s no chance to get to know her better. Not like she gave me any indication during dinner that she’d want to. My Assignment‌—‌who knew? I mean, other than our CEO in Heaven. Maybe Mercy will have some advice for me. Can I use the laptop? In my room, when I power up the Gateway, a halo icon pops up. Hallelujah! I can send A-mail.

  From: glightbourne@halo.hvn

  To: mbeamkind@halo.hvn

  Subject: how are ya???

  Hey Mercy!

  Can you believe it? I’m here! On Earth!

  Tonight I learned who my Assignment is, and I think there’s been some kind of mistake. I’m sure it’ll get straightened out soon. But just in case I’m wrong, do you have any advice on how to approach a surly human teen? I know you’re not planning to be a Guardian, but you’ve always been so much smarter than me.

  Speaking of school… how’s Virtue training?

  Great, I bet! You’re going to make an awesome Virtue, you know. Sometimes I envy how you’ve known since Arrival that it was the right job for you. I made this Guardian decision pretty quickly. But I know it must have been the right one, because otherwise He wouldn’t have gone along with my plan to skip school. Plus, it’s definitely gonna help me get my wings faster.

  I don’t miss school at all. Especially choir practice. You know that was torture for me‌—‌but don’t tell Gabriel I said so! ☺ Anyway, no lectures, no classrooms, no homework (well almost no homework‌—‌I haven’t read my books yet). This should be a piece of cake.

  I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I already miss you horribly, horribly, horribly. But I did find a cool way to decorate the room when I get back. You’ll probably be ready for a change by then.

  Promise to stay in touch, okay? Promise. I’ll write when I can and fill you in on all my Earthly happenings.

  Yours in ♥,

  Grace the blessed and meek Lightbourne

  Angel in Training

  P.S. Mercy, I forgot to tell you. After my Declaration, He said sending me was almost against His better judgment! I’m not sure what that means. What do you think?

  Chapter 6

  Late Sunday morning, Mrs. Murphy slathers sunscreen on Finn and chases us all out of the house. “It’s the last day of summer vacation. Take advantage of it.”

  Finn swims around for a bit, then runs around for a bit then finds a spot in the yard and plunks himself down. Tara lounges under a green- and white-striped umbrella, whispering to Lacey on the phone. Nonstop. It makes me wish Mercy had a phone, because with A-mail, I have to wait to hear back from her about my—ahem—Assignment.

  So, I’m the only one in the pool when Tara holds the phone away from her head and yells, “Hey Finn, cut it out.” Then she turns toward the house. “Dad, he’s doing it again!”

  What’s bugging her now? He’s just sitting in the yard.

  Mr. Murphy comes to the door, shakes his head and waves at Tara. It’s like his head is in the clouds and he thought she was saying hi to him. She stretches and yells, “Dad, weren’t you supposed to spray those weeds so he’d stop doing that?” Lowering her voice, she says into the phone, “He’s such a dork!” Then a high-pitched giggle bursts out. “I meant Finn, but yeah, my dad too.”

  I climb out of the pool into the August heat. In the corner of the yard, Finn’s sitting cross-legged, peering at the lawn. He brushes his hand back and forth over the grass.

  “Whatcha’ doing, Finn?”

  His eyes never leave the ground. “Looking.”

  Tara strolls up and puts one hand on her hip, the other holding the phone still glued to her ear. “Just stop,” she says to Finn.

  A few drops of water drizzle off my body. “What’s he looking for?”

  Tara thrusts one hip to the side. “One day, my mom wanted me to watch him, y’know? ‘Keep him out of my hair.’” She does a fairly good impression of her mom. “Lacey told me to have him look for four-leaf clovers. He never found one.” She smiles, and there’s something a little mean in it. “Now he won’t stop. He’s out here all the time.” Tara shakes her head. “Finn, Finny‌—‌I told you there’s no such thing. I made it up to keep you busy.”

  Tears well up in Finn’s eyes.

  “You never found even one?” I ask him.

  He looks down and shakes his head.

  “You could sing the song,” I say. “You know how it goes. ‘I’m looking over a four-leaf clover that I overlooked before.’ “

  Finn laughs at me. “I don’t know that song.”

  “Sure you do. Maybe you just don’t remember it,” I say and then catch myself.

  Tara snorts. “Where’d you hear that song? I don’t know it either. Sounds like something from Barney.” She speaks into the phone. “She’s singing him some kiddy song.” Pause. “I feel bad for me too.” Pause. “You’ll meet her at school tomorrow.” Pause. “I don’t know about that.” Pause. Then, Tara places both hands on her hips and says to Finn. “You are hopeless. Lacey says, ‘Give it up. You’ll never find one.’”

  Finn’s eyes never leave the ground. Through gritted teeth, he says, “I don’t like Lacey.”

  When I glance at Tara, she says, “He thinks since we’re Irish, he’s going to find one.”

  She’s so obnoxious! Aren’t Angels assigned to help nice humans?

  Finn says to me, “They’re supposed to be lucky‌—‌that’s why they’re so hard to find.”

  “They really aren’t that hard to find,” I tell him.

  “Are too,” Finn says, very sure of himself.

  “Are not.”

  Finn tears a clump of grass and clover from the ground and scatters it. “I haven’t found one,” he says, sticking his thumb into his mouth

  “Grow up. You’re not going to,” Tara says.

  All right. That does it. Anger briefly surges through me and I feel a power that starts low in my belly. This kid should be able to see a four-leaf clover, for heaven’s sake.

  “It’s been hard because that’s what you believe.” Kneeling, I pluck one clover. I’m still angry as I hold it out to Finn. “See?”

  Tara gasps, and her eyes grow wide.

  Finn, open-mouthed, removes his thumb and stares at the clover with all four leaves intact. “How you’d do that?” he asks.

  “Now you know they’re real, so try again,” I say.

  Finn peers at the ground. “Look! Here’s one!” He plucks the clover from the ground. “And another!”

  Tara reaches down and picks her own, shock soaring across her face.

  Feeling quite smug for making Finn happy and showing Tara she was wrong, I stroll away. As I slip back into the pool, I hear Finn’s fading voice, saying in amazement, “Another one, Tara! And another!”

  Yeah, tomorrow might be my first day of human high school, but today was Tara’s first day of Grace school.

  }{ />
  True to her word, Tara introduces me to a blonde who sashays up to us. “This is Grace, our exchange student.”

  Lacey gives me a once-over, turns to Tara and says, “I really have to go to my locker. See you later, Grace.”

  They walk away, Tara two steps behind the blonde. Obviously Tara wants nothing to do with me, so how in the name of our CEO am I supposed to protect her?

  After a quick stop at the front office to pick up my schedule, I look at the school map and try to figure out where my first class is. I spin the map, turn left, then right. Which way? The ugly black briefcase thuds against my leg as I take off in what I hope is the right direction.

  Boom.

  I walk straight into a wall.

  Well, not exactly a wall. But a big guy. So that’s what it felt like.

  This guy is easily over six feet tall with broad shoulders. And he’s beautiful, which I know is a weird way to describe a guy, but he glows, and the quiet expression on his face reminds me of one of Michelangelo’s paintings. Brown hair with sun streaks of caramel. Deep brown eyes. A tanned, flawless complexion. He’s wearing jeans and a crooked smile. Cody, of shaggy hairdom and the reception table, is standing next to him.

  “Hi, Grace,” Cody says.

  “Hi,” I manage while staring at the other guy. My heart must have wings. It just fluttered. Why couldn’t this guy be my mission instead of Tara? “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

  Cody laughs. “See ya, Grace. Later, dude.” Cody fist-bumps the beautiful guy and walks away.

  A half smile flickers, more amused than upset. “You’re new?”

  “An exchange student.”

  “Ah! I see. Exchanging the world one student at a time,” he quotes from the program’s slogan, holding out his hand palm up. “Here, let me see your schedule.”

  For some crazy reason, my heart pounds like mad. When I turn it over, his hand brushes mine and there’s a quick electric zap.

  Did I do that? I laugh self-consciously.

  “That happens to me all the time,” he says and gives me the half smile again. He speeds through a rundown on where all my classes are—like I’ll remember how to get there—and also gives me the scoop on a couple of the teachers. “Ms. Sands is great, but Gindi is a wanker.”

  Over my shoulder, I hear a familiar voice. “Victor, hey Victor!” Aisha, the unfriendly girl from reception, appears at his elbow.

  “Oh, by the way I’m Victor,” he says to me.

  “Uh… I’m Grace.”

  “Yeah. Got it. That’s what Cody called you.”

  Right. Duh. His appearance has me all flustered, which happens all the time. Except this is a bit more than normal.

  Aisha grabs him by the arm. “Hey, I really need to talk to you.” She gives him an intense right now look, steering him away while casting a snooty look at my briefcase. “Hey Grace, you should lose the briefcase. Get a backpack.”

  Does she think that’s helpful? It’s not like I don’t know how repulsive it is.

  “Bye, gorgeous,” I whisper to the back of Victor’s fading head, almost tripping over this kid stumbling along in front of me.

  He’s super short and hunched over a backpack so big, it looks like it could tip him if he stood up straight while trying to weave his way through all these bigger kids. Until he bangs into one and ends up dropping ten dollars on the floor. The big kid he bumped scoops up the bill and puts it in his pocket.

  How can he do that? I’d seen this kind of thing on HVEN TV before, but thought it was mostly hype. If I had my wings, I could swoop in there and scare the living daylights out of him, but the direct approach always works for Michael.

  “Hey! That’s not yours. You need to give it back.”

  He laughs at me and walks away. Laughs. At an Angel. Can you believe it?

  I can’t make him give it back if he doesn’t want to because it’d be a violation of Rule #2—free will. I try to make it fall out of his pocket. Nothing. And the kid with the jumbo backpack has disappeared, completely unaware his lunch money has been stolen.

  Whoa, Daddy. This Guardian thing might be a little harder than I thought.

  }{

  This is how the day has been so far:

  First Period‌—‌Science. Mercy would enjoy this class. Later this year we’re going to be doing a unit on the universe. I’ll probably fall asleep.

  Second Period‌—‌American History. Okay, this is a weird one. In my History of the Universe class, we had a chapter on Earth. This is a class for one whole year about one country on Earth. Seems a little too detailed, if you ask me. And Victor was right. Mr. Gindi is a wanker.

  Third Period‌—‌Math. What’s the point of this class?

  Fourth Period‌—‌Chorus. This is one of things I was trying to avoid by coming to Earth. Truly. How in the name of all that is Holy did I end up with this?

  Halfway through fourth period, we break for lunch, which is kind of strange. We sing. We eat. Then we have to go back and sing some more. Whatever.

  The cafeteria is total chaos. Clattering trays and the steady roar of conversation in the background. If the Chinese restaurant smelled like Heaven, then this place smells like Hell.

  Victor and Aisha lean against a wall on the far side of the cafeteria, creating a tranquil image that reminds me of Michelangelo’s painting, despite the fact that they’re wearing jeans. If she wasn’t so rude, they’d make a beautiful couple.

  They both look at me with the same serene expression and—

  Wait. Are they walking toward me?

  Yep. They’re definitely headed this way. Why couldn’t Victor be by himself? Now that’d be something I could look forward to.

  They’re halfway across the room when everything freezes, except the two of them.

  Huh?

  I don’t mean freezes like that special slo-mo effect they use on HVEN TV. I mean stopped, no motion. One kid’s juice is falling off his tray, and it shouldn’t be hanging in space like this.

  Another guy at the table next to me was laughing. Or, is still laughing? His face stays red, mouth open. On the far side of the cafeteria I can see Tara sitting with Lacey, who’s flipping her hair over her shoulder. The hair is suspended mid-flip.

  “We need to talk to you.” Victor says, still striding.

  What is going on? How come they’re not frozen?

  He stops right in front of me. “We’re Angels.”

  Angels? From Heaven? “You’re Guardians?”

  Victor nods.

  “That is so cool!” I wave my hand around at all the human statues. “You did that! You froze time. Can you teach me?”

  Aisha closes her eyes and shakes her head.

  Victor says to her, “C’mon, you remember the first time you saw it?”

  “We. Don’t. Freeze. Time.” Her braids clack, emphasizing each word. She is acting so freakin’ superior.

  Victor takes over. “Actually it’s been slowed down, or more accurately‌—‌we’ve sped up. Here, I’ll show you.” He weaves in and out of tables and around sculpted kids, looking over his shoulder at me. “I hope there’s one here. There usually is.” When we get to the trashcan, he points at a housefly. “Look.”

  At first the fly appears as motionless as everything else. But then I notice‌—‌his wings are moving, very, very slowly.

  “That’s incredible.”

  Victor cracks a smile and seems about to say something when Aisha urgently waves us back over to her. She points to a spot on the floor. “When we switch to ordinary time, you need to be standing right there. Got it?” She shifts from foot to foot and then flexes her fingers,

  I nod, annoyed.

  Flexing her fingers, one by one, she says to me, “So, let me get this straight. You haven’t been through the training? He let you come here without it?”

  “Yes, well, I explained to Him this would be for the best. For everyone.”

  Victor laughs and Aisha looks incredulous when she says,
“You do realize Victor and I took three years of classes before we ever had our first Mission? We had to fully learn about Human Psychology, contemporary culture, Earth’s geography and on and on.”

  It’s not my problem she needed a lot more training. “I think I’m doing okay without all that.”

  “Oh, like when you told me you were from out west? Yeah. Real smooth.”

  There’s a sinking feeling that comes from knowing someone caught your mistake. “You knew I was on a Mission that day?” Victor’s eyes skim Aisha’s. “And you knew when you helped me this morning, right?”

  Victor puts an arm around my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Listen, once you have your wings, it’s easy to tell Celestial Beings from humans.”

  The wing thing again. I need them, like, yesterday. If only to identify other Angels. Plus, the freeze-time thing would be pretty cool.

  Victor’s arm feels comfy. It’s nice that I’m not totally alone on Earth. I lean into him.

  Aisha’s eyes burn as she fixates on his arm. “But we weren’t going to interfere, right, Victor?” she adds.

  He removes his arm and runs his fingers through his hair. “Until we saw you in the main hall this morning with the kid who took the money.”

  “You can’t protect everyone,” Aisha says. “You need to focus on your Mission.”

  “Let me get this straight. So, you did this time thing—” I wave my hand at our surroundings, “—to tell me that?”

  “We did the time thing to get your attention,” Aisha says.

  Victor smirks. “And because it was kinda fun. You should have seen your face.” Aisha’s look singes him and he adds, “Plus, we thought you could use some help.”

  I’m not sure I want Aisha’s help, but Victor‌—‌now that’s another story.

  “Thanks,” I say. Mostly to him.

  “Any time.” Victor slips his arm around my shoulder again. “Listen, do you have a cell phone?”

  “She doesn’t have her wings yet. Why would she—”

  “I have one.” I reach into my briefcase, pulling out the phone Michael had given me and wiggle it.