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

by Shel Delisle

  After finding the jack, I line it up and crank away, raising the Hummer. It’s heavier than the Murphys’ Honda. A lot heavier.

  But I focus on all the steps Mr. Murphy showed me until I get to the point where I have to loosen the nuts. No go. I even stand and jump onto the wrench. Nothing. The blasphemous nut won’t budge. This is exactly the place Mr. Murphy had to take over during his demo. And now, because this plight isn’t quite enough, one of my fake eyelashes comes loose and dangles into my line of vision. I use my knuckle to try to get it to re-stick, but it’s as uncooperative as Aisha.

  I freeze time again and ask her, “Do I have super strength or anything?”

  She smirks. “You’d know the answer to that if you’d done your reading. Besides, are you sure you want to change the tire?”

  I glare at her. “Are you sure you’re supposed to be a Guardian? Maybe you should have been a Dominion!” I unfreeze time and return to the tire. Headlights from another car illuminate the area, and I hear the crunch of tire on gravel. What now?

  A tall figure emerges from the car, laughs and says, “Need some assistance, ladies?”

  It’s Victor.

  “Oh, thank God!” Lacey says. “I think Grace is stuck.”

  More like unglued.

  Victor stands over me, smile flickering, eyes twinkling. He looks fantastic in his board shorts and a light blue tee. “I don’t know about stuck. Looks like she’s doing a pretty good job.” He squats close to me and examines the tire. Incredible. He smells like a bath towel straight from the dryer‌—‌warm and clean. I’d like to wrap him around me.

  “I’m not strong enough,” I say in despair.

  “You are,” he whispers.

  I mash my hand against the Hummer’s rim. “Not for this.” Both of my hands are filthy and the eyelash is still flopping like a broken wing.

  The glimmer blinks out of Victor’s eyes. His smile fades. “I guess you want my help, then?”

  “Please,” I dab the edge of my eye, attempting to put the lash back in place.

  “Okay. Don’t want to get too dirty.” He smirks when he looks at my hands and then pulls his shirt off.

  Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hal‌—‌leeee-luuuu-jah!

  I hope my gasp isn’t audible. He is so tan. And, and… exquisite. He squats down again and goes to work on the tire, not even grunting like Mr. Murphy did. The muscles in his back tense as he loosens each of the nuts. Tara, Lacey and I are transfixed by his every move. Only Aisha looks bored. More proof that she’s hard to please.

  He stands up and brushes spotless hands on his shorts.

  “I can take it from here,” I say.

  The twinkle returns to Victor’s eyes and he pulls his t-shirt back on. “Are you sure? You don’t want me to finish it for you?”

  “I said, I can do it now.” Expertly, I swap the mangled tire with the spare, tighten everything and lower the Hummer to the ground. It’s done in a matter of minutes. As fast as Jiffy Chariot Repair in Heaven. I hand Victor the jack. “There. All done.”

  He smiles and holds the jack in his right hand. “I like your hair like that and… you have a smudge.” He gently rubs near the edge of my eye. “It’s gone,” he says and raises one eyebrow, staring at the defective, sagging eyelash.

  “Thanks,” I say, “for helping.” I bat my eyes a little, hoping that the lash will reattach, but it doesn’t and so it comes off as a really weak flirt.

  Victor looks very serious for the first time tonight. “You could have done it without me.”

  I blush. Does he really think so?

  I wish he’d freeze time so we could talk privately. It’s that kind of moment. But spoilsport Aisha’s here and even in Heaven, that would kill the mood.

  Lacey struts over and plants a kiss on Victor’s cheek. “You’re an angel. Can I buy you a burger? We’re going to The Jukebox.”

  What a phony! Okay, first of all, we never talked about the Jukebox, and second of all‌—‌she got lucky with the angel comment. It’s clear he’s her Guardian. That’s why he appeared out of nowhere. And hey! No thank you for me? What about all the work I did on the tire before he arrived?

  “I never turn down burgers or The Jukebox.” Victor smiles, white teeth flashing.

  “See you in a few.” Lacey gives a flirty finger wave and heads for the Hummer. The rest of us follow like mindless, mindless… I don’t know whats. It’s like how Tara has fallen under her influence. Everyone just plays into her control of things.

  In the backseat, Aisha rifles though her purse and hands me a wet cloth. “For your hands. Victor got the spot on your face.”

  That’s different. Maybe she’s nicer than I thought.

  Tara spins around as I scrub my palms. “I think he likes you, Grace.” She giggles. “I’ve never seen him act like that, right, Lace?”

  Lacey’s voice is dull; both her hands grip the wheel. “Yeah. Never.”

  In the quiet, Aisha says, “I have.” I look at her as I peel the fake lashes from my eyes. Her lime-green eyes are sad, and a pained smile is plastered on her face. “It was sooooo long ago.”

  Victor liked Aisha? How long have they known each other?

  Because long to Humans is different than to Guardian Angels. If Tara or Lacey said this, they’d mean they’d known him since last year. But Aisha means something entirely different. It makes me wonder‌—‌a hundred years? A thousand? More?

  Chapter 12

  The décor at The Jukebox is cool‌—‌all black and white and red and chrome. I’ll probably copy it for one of my weeks with Mercy. Then, I remember Faith. I mean, if we ever get to room together again.

  The five of us end up squished into a red leather booth by the side window. Aisha, Victor and I sit across from Lacey and Tara‌—‌with me crammed in the middle.

  Every so often, Victor’s knee bumps into mine. Warm and solid. Combine that with his bath towel scent, and I re-read the first menu item more times than I can count. When the waitress asks me what I want, I almost say: Victor. But instead, I draw deeply from the well of angelic poise and, most importantly, self-control so I can, you know, curb my impulsiveness. Then I follow Victor’s lead and order a bacon cheeseburger medium, onion rings and a strawberry shake. I still haven’t gotten used to how totally good‌—‌or bad‌—‌the food is here.

  When the food arrives, I take a bite of the burger. “Mmmm….heavenly.”

  Victor laughs. At least he gets me.

  “Check it out.” Lacey jabs a forkful of her I’ll-Have-The-Purgatory-Hold-The-Dressing-Salad toward the window. Ms. Sands, my English teacher, and Coach Vaughn are walking by, holding hands. “How cozy,” she adds.

  Victor shrugs. “That’s old news.”

  “Not to me,” Lacey says.

  Ms. Sands wraps her arm around Coach’s waist and then glimpses me through the window. I’ve got her for English and considering I’m not crazy about school, I think she’s decent.

  Victor stirs his shake absentmindedly. “Did you see she’s having a meeting for Spirit Week? Is anyone else going?”

  Spirit Week? Don’t they get the whole omnipresent thing? “What makes Spirit Week different from any other?” I ask in an attempt to make them see the light.

  Aisha buries her face in her palms and rubs her forehead—bad question?— but Tara explains. “It’s what a lot of schools call Homecoming. There’s hall decoration and a parade, Skit Night, the big game and a dance on Saturday.” Tara’s brows knit on the word dance.

  “The dance is the only thing worth going to,” Lacey explains. “The rest of it is too rah-rah. You can’t possibly be going,” she says to Victor.

  “I’m very spirited.” Victor swirls the straw two times, smirks at his own joke then takes a sip.

  Aisha scowls at Victor, maybe because it’s too close to the truth. Then she says, “I’m going too. C’mon, Lace. It’ll be fun.”

  Lacey hesitates. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Uh… I guess it wouldn’t hurt
to go to the meeting. What about you guys?” Lacey asks Tara and me.

  There’s enough on my plate‌—‌and I’m not talking cheeseburger here. I shake my head. Before I can get out one word, Aisha stops time. Lacey’s straw is frozen between her lips and Tara is perpetually picking one of her cuticles. “What now?”

  “You know,” Aisha says, all bossy, “that you may need to be there for your Mission. I could tell you were going to say no. Just follow along with what Victor and I do.”

  “I don’t want another responsibility. Sorry.” Besides, if Aisha knew me better, she’d realize I don’t do follow well.

  Aisha looks day-of-reckoning annoyed with me. “Why don’t you try waiting to see what Tara says, huh?”

  My Identity File said not to concern myself with other Missions‌—‌to focus on my own and all that. Has Aisha forgotten this part of the program? I sit up straighter, shoulders squared, trying to summon angelic composure. “Why don’t you focus on your own Assignment?” I remind her.

  Aisha takes a deep breath. I guess I told her.

  “Listen,” she says in a softer tone. “You need to be focused on Tara. That hasn’t changed. I think you did a great job earlier with the tire, but it might have been a little easier if you were studying. I can tell you’re still slacking.”

  Victor clears his throat. “It can’t be easy for her, Ish. She’s on her first Mission, distracted by all the Earthly stuff, and she’s supposed to study.” He turns to me. “It’s easy to get distracted. You really love everything about this place, don’t you?”

  I nod, because it’s nice to have someone on my side. “Even before I came here, I used to watch all the shows about Earth on HVEN TV. That’s how I picked my vocation‌—‌that new show, Angelic Aid. And I even met Michelangelo once in The Hall of Records.”

  Victor’s face lights up and he leans in close enough that I get a quick whiff of his warm bath towel aroma. “You did? What was he like?”

  “Excuse me.” Aisha nudges my shoulder. “You two can continue this conversation later. Take your places‌—‌I’m putting it in motion.”

  Places? How was I sitting? I prop my elbow under my chin, but that doesn’t feel right. Not another mistake. Please.

  “C’mon… another minute won’t hurt.” Victor leans forward and stares past me at Aisha.

  “You know the deal‌—‌Missions only. Besides, it won’t be hard to talk later. You both have cells. Right?”

  The world briefly goes into motion, but then, Victor freezes it again. Aisha‌—‌unfreeze. Freeze. Unfreeze. There’s a hurky-jerky motion to everything and I’m trying to stay completely still so I don’t freak Lacey and Tara. Victor freezes it again and Aisha says, “Cut it out. You already delayed things for me tonight with all your help. Enough already. You know I’m doing the right thing.”

  Victor tips his head back, looks skyward pleadingly and lets out a long breath. Then, he positions himself statue-like. “Okay. Go ahead.”

  Aisha sets everything into motion. Tara pulls a piece of skin from her thumb and leans into the rest of us, flushed and gushing the answer to Lacey’s question. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it ever since I saw the signs, but I never thought anybody else would do it. Cool.”

  Aisha raises an eyebrow at me. Spirit Week‌—‌which, by the way, is totally misnamed‌—‌had slipped my mind. This is so bogus! I have no control over my destiny. “If everyone else is doing it,” I say all monotone, “I’m in.”

  Aisha gives me a ha-I-won-that-one smirk while Lacey grins and semi-whispers, “Coach Vaughn must be advising her on…activities.”

  He’s just opened the door for Ms. Sands, which is bizarre because it feels like they walked past our window so long ago, but it’s only been a few seconds.

  The hostess grabs two menus and leads them in our direction until Coach points to a small booth on the far side of the restaurant. After she places the menus on the table, Ms. Sands scoots in and Coach saunters toward us. He claps Victor on the back, gives a hearty laugh and says, “I always knew you were fast. But how’d you get here before me and eat half your meal? When I left, you and Cody were in the middle of that video game.”

  Victor squirms. Aisha is giving him an evil eye. It’s worse than any Lucifer look she’s given to me.

  “I guess I got lucky and caught green lights,” Victor says.

  Coach looks perplexed. “Yeah, but when I talked to him five minutes ago, he said you were just leaving.”

  Victor sips his shake for one, two, three eons‌—‌at least, that’s what it feels like. Then, he changes the subject to the team and the opening game, while Aisha glares at him.

  Coach finally says, “The team is coming together nicely under your leadership and I appreciate you taking Cody under your wing. This year, with all the changes in his life… well, it’s been hard on him.”

  “Cody’s cool. I like hangin’ with him,” Victor says.

  “Well, just know I think it’s making a big difference to him.” He claps Victor on the shoulder again.

  After Coach walks away, Lacey says, “He must be out of his mind smitten with Ms. Sands, or Cody’s got his own fiction going on‌—‌because you changed the tire and everything. You can’t be in two places at once.”

  She’s absolutely right. But Victor just smiles.

  Or…on second thought, can we?

  }{

  The Spirit Week meeting has been very hum-drum. Not as boring as Michael’s lecture on the Celestial Hierarchy, but I’d rather be watching an Angelic Stories re-run with Mrs. Murphy and Finn. So far, the only interesting parts have been when Coach walked in and interrupted Ms. Sands for five minutes, which sent Lacey into a fit of laughter. In between bursts, she said to me, “You’re coming with us after this, aren’t you?”

  I said, “Yes.”

  Then, Victor sat behind me and passed me a note that read, “Can I walk you home?”

  I said, “Yes.”

  Of course, being agreeable has put me in a bad situation. I can’t do both.

  Aisha finally showed up right before everything started and had to sit in the front row. I said nothing to her and for once felt all-Higher Order because she’s the slacker tonight.

  Ms. Sands stands in front, behind a podium, and clears her throat. “Spirit Week is such a wonderful part of your high school experience. It’s an opportunity to be creative, make new friends, have fun and work hard together. I feel privileged to be this year’s advisor.” She takes a sip of water. “This year’s theme is Myths and Legends, which should be a lot of fun. One thing we’re going to do differently than the past few years is to have mixed-grade teams, so that the Seniors don’t automatically win everything.”

  A bunch of Seniors boo, but there are also a couple of sweets and all rights scattered around the room. On the far side of the room, I see two guys fist-bump. Lacey and Tara grin at me.

  Ms. Sands shuffles a few papers and clears her throat. “Before you start picking teammates, you should know we’ll be using a lottery system. And we’ve already come up with the team titles: Monsters, Pirates, Aliens, Wizard of Oz, Fairy Tales and Greek Gods.”

  Victor leans forward and whispers in my ear, “I bet the odds are pretty good we end upon the same team.”

  Goosebumps chase his breath across my neck. I tilt my face toward him. “Why?”

  He sits back, laughs and says aloud, “I had a vision.”

  I hope he’s right. I didn’t get any divine message and the only vision flashing through my mind is what he looked like changing the tire. Come to think of it‌—‌that was divine.

  Ms. Sands waves a sheet of paper over her head. “There’s a sign-up sheet being passed around… where is it?”

  A muscular guy in a black tee who looks like a pirate team candidate holds up his hand.

  “Thank you,” Ms. Sands says. “And, be sure to sign the sheets, and if you miss it or have any friends who aren’t here tonight, just stop by my room tomorrow. We’ll pick
teams tomorrow night and post the results Friday morning in the main hall, before the pep rally for the first game.” Ms. Sands raps her papers on the podium. “That’s it for now. More details to come.”

  Lacey leans in to Tara and me. “Ready?”

  I hesitate. Victor hovers. “I need to sign the sheet.”

  Lacey gives me a you-are-hopeless face. “Don’t you have Ms. Sands? Sign it in class. You need to go with us‌—‌this one is epic.”

  Earthly epic is probably different from what I’m used to, but I know Lacey has something planned. Victor? Mission? Eeny-Meeny. I know what Aisha would say. But why would I listen to her? I’ve made so much progress with Tara, but this might be the event that gets me my wings.

  Victor rests his hand on my shoulder. I’ve made a ton of progress. Right? And everyone deserves a little break. Right? “Um… I’m going to pass.”

  Lacey says, “Whatever. Your loss.” Tara elbows her and motions toward Victor.

  “Have fun,” I tell them.

  Have fun? Maybe not‌—‌I don’t know what they have planned. Oh, I just need to keep the faith‌—‌it’ll be fine.

  “You too,” Tara says and giggles as they walk away.

  Victor perches over my shoulder until they leave and without a word, we stand in sync. At the auditorium exit, he pushes open the heavy metal door for me. I graze him.

  Oh, zap! Am I imagining he gave off sparks? Or did I really get a jolt?

  Outside, we follow the sidewalk that weaves between the cafeteria and the main building. It’s quiet tonight, with only the shush of palm fronds blowing in the breeze. The other kids have left so quickly it feels like they disappeared. Like Victor and I are the only two people at the school. As we walk, shoulder to shoulder, my throat and stomach tighten.

  He is heavenly.

  Looking up at the sky, the full moon is huge. Bright. But it’s the only Celestial body I see. If you don’t count Victor’s. “Where are the stars?” I ask.

  “You can’t see them because of all the light, but they’re still there,” Victor explains. We’ve come to the area that includes the gymnasium and athletic facilities. There are no events tonight and this part of campus is very dark and very quiet. Victor stops when we reach the concession stand. It’s shuttered and empty. “Are you practicing your powers?” he asks.