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

by Shel Delisle

  “When I was changing the tire, I froze time.” I laugh. It’s light and flirty, not at all like my normal laugh. “But then I couldn’t do anything with it, except bicker with Aisha.” Wait. “Can I do more than that?”

  A restrained smile brushes Victor’s lips. “What about bi-location? Have you used that?”

  I tilt my head toward him. “I don’t even know what it is, so how could I use it?”

  “It’s pretty handy,” Victor says. “It’s being in two places at once.”

  Like Lacey said at the Jukebox. “You’re kidding!”

  He raises one eyebrow. “Have you been reading your books?”

  Why is Victor acting like Michael, all worried about my schooling? It kills the mood. I stare at the ground, pushing a pebble around with my toe. “It’s been really busy. Everything happening with Tara and schoolwork and now Spirit Week…” Then I look into his deep brown eyes. “And… well, not exactly.”

  Victor laughs and makes a shame-shame motion with his finger. Okay, he’s not exactly like Michael. “Watch,” he says, and suddenly there’s another Victor on the other side. I look left. Right. Yep, it’s the same gorgeous guy.

  “That’s pretty cool, but I don’t see how we’d use it. Wouldn’t that just confuse humans?”

  The Victor on the left laughs and the one on the right scratches the top of his head, pretending confusion. Left Victor approaches me. Over his shoulder, I see the other one cover his eyes with his hands. “I’m only doing it this close—” with the word ‘close’ I feel his breath on my forehead, “—to show you, but you could be at school… and the beach… with me.”

  Wow! A way out of school! And Victor as a bonus. How cool is that? And if I’d known, I could be using that right now. Sigh.

  “We should do that someday,” says the right Victor, removing his hands from his eyes. “Remember when I helped with the tire?”

  If he’s talking about when he took his shirt off and the Angels in Heaven sang out in glory, well then the correct answer is…“Yes.”

  “I was bi-located so I could help my Assignment. Nothing super important‌—‌I didn’t need to be centered, but I did need to be present.”

  My mind is reeling when the Victor standing in front says, “So, what do you think?”

  “I think you probably have more in that bag of tricks. What else?”

  Victor looks skyward. “She’s a tough one,” he says and then shrinks to four inches high. “This is size-shifting,” a tiny, far away voice near the ground yells up at me.

  I bend over and lay my hand on the ground, palm up. He steps onto it and I lift him close enough to my face that I can study the details of the miniature version. He’s exactly the same, including his smooth smile that always looks like it’s holding back a laugh.

  “You’re cute like this. I’m going to put you in my backpack and carry you around all day,” I tease.

  Mini-Victor complains, “Put me down!”

  I gently place him on the ground and smile to myself as he re-grows.

  “You can make yourself bigger too‌—‌but I never use that one,” he says. “Shrinking lets you hide and observe things. Getting gigantic only calls attention to yourself.” He merges his two bodies into one.

  Getting big could come in handy. It might be nice to tower over Aisha, or even Michael. “So, you never do the giant thing?”

  He smiles. “I use it every once in a while to get things that are…” Victor lengthens his arm, drapes it over my shoulder and pulls me over to him. “Out of reach.”

  My heart is pounding as he holds me against him and I wonder if he has a special ability to feel that, too.

  “You should practice. It’s like freezing, just focus on the results you want.” Victor releases me and I step back.

  I try shrinking but end up only a few inches shorter.

  “Try again.”

  This time I concentrate on small. Angel Barbie-sized. That’s the goal. It works.

  I manage to shrink to a pee-wee Grace. Not bad! Even if I’m not book-smart. After re-growing, I will myself to bi-locate, which feels totally strange. Now I understand what he meant about not centered, because it’s like you have two sets of thoughts and sensations and feelings going on at the same time.

  “You’re a fast learner! I didn’t get it the first time.”

  “Thanks.” I lower my eyes.

  The other, bolder me pipes up. “Great stuff, but all I’ve ever really wanted are my wings‌—‌to fly.”

  “Practice these,” Victor says. “You’ll like using them.”

  “I’m sure. But it’s not the same,” the mouthier me replies.

  His controlled smile briefly appears and he runs a hand through that his streaked hair. “So, you want to know how it feels to fly?”

  I feel my two separate selves combine. “Of course. I mean, didn’t you?”

  Our eyes lock. Victor holds out his hand. “C’mon.” The chain that wraps around the gate to the football field falls to the ground. When I take his hand, my stomach flutters like a small, winged angel is trapped in there. We walk across the squishy, rubbery track and on to the sweet-smelling grass of the football field. We’re cocooned by the stadium bleachers.

  There’s a challenge in my tone when I say, “What? Are you going to teach me now?” I can’t believe how I’m acting. I never flirted in Heaven.

  Victor closes his eyes, tips his head back. Wings sprout and unfurl from his shoulders. He gives them a flap that reminds me of how I stretch my legs after being curled up for a long time.

  Magnificent! Will you look at those wings? They’re splendid in all their white-feathered opalescence. Victor has always been good-looking, but now he’s stunning. Truly. It’s weird‌—‌even though I knew Victor was a Full Angel, I don’t think I really grasped it until I saw the wings. They make me feel small and insignificant, torn between looking and looking away.

  “Turn around,” Victor says, spinning his finger. He eases behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Ready?”

  My heart thumps like mad. “I think so.”

  We lift and hover a few inches off the ground. More wing flutters in my stomach. We rise higher. Then he circles me around the field a couple times. Swoop—we’re low, skimming the ground. Blades of grass speed by in a blur. What a rush! He ascends to the top edge of the bleachers. Weightless. The feel of his arm keeps me stable. Everything looks smaller from up here.

  “Enough?” Victor asks.

  I shake my head. We climb higher. The air is cool on my arms, but Victor’s body is warm. I can hardly breathe. “Go higher!”

  He rockets off above the trees, above the rooftops until we’re soaring far above the Earth. I can see for miles. The breeze whips through my hair, against my face. Laughter bubbles up in my throat. Above us, the sky’s an inky black veil with specks of light twinkling through the weave like a candle behind lace. Below, CVS and the River of Grass Rec Center‌—‌my history‌—‌are distant.

  “So, what do you think?” he whispers in my ear.

  I’m startled by Victor. He’d faded away, but now I feel his warmth again. “I love this,” I whisper.

  “Me too.” He squeezes me tighter. “I have to take you to the beach. It’s magical, flying out over the ocean.”

  The idea of gliding above the waves with him makes me giddy. This is nice too. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “Time for the landing,” he says. “Just let me touch down.” He makes one more big swoop upward and as we sail toward the ground, I spy Lacey and Tara dashing across the football field, lugging a big container.

  What are they doing?

  I don’t want to get caught, but would it be good if they did? I tap frantically on Victor’s arm.

  “I see them,” he says, swerving out of the stadium. He drops down gently and we land near the dugout of the baseball field.

  “Thank Heaven they didn’t look up,” I say. My heart is thump-thumping from the flight, from almost ge
tting caught, from being next to Victor.

  “No kidding. I knew that was risky. Fun, but risky. We probably shouldn’t do it again.” There’s a combination of relief and disappointment in his sad smile.

  “Yeah. Probably not,” I agree, but I can’t stop imagining flying over the ocean in his arms.

  Chapter 13

  From: glightbourne@halo.hvn

  To: mbeamkind@halo.hvn

  Subject: FLYING!!!

  Oh, Mercy!

  I miss you! And can’t believe I haven’t even been gone three weeks. So much has happened. I don’t know where to start!

  The biggest news‌—‌I flew tonight!!!!!!!

  I know that doesn’t make sense and I didn’t get wings or anything, but there are two other Full Angels here (at least two).

  Hold on. I’m gonna rewind. Okay, there’s one Angel named Aisha. I can’t figure out if she’s my friend or enemy, but one thing I know for sure‌—‌she’s bossy. You know I don’t respond well to that!

  The other Angel‌—‌his name is Victor‌—‌is so… I can’t even describe it. But I’ll try. Remember when we said it would be nice to combine Justice and Forte? How that’d be the perfect guy? It’s that, but better. He’s the one who took me flying, which was indescribable and makes me WANT my WINGS more than ever.

  When you and I both have ours, you need to come to Earth for an Interlude, so we can fly around and sightsee.

  Um, my Mission? It’s going, I guess. Humans sure are hard to figure out. At first, my Assignment, Tara, wouldn’t have anything to do with me. I mean, you’d think humans would gravitate toward their Guardians, like planets around the sun. You get that whole solar system thing as a Virtue.

  It’s not like that at all.

  Anyway, now we hang out together every day and even though she’s a long, long, long way from taking my advice, it’s better than when I first got here.

  What else? I have a few powers. OH! I ALMOST FORGOT! YOU’RE NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS!!! WINGLESS ONES ARE REAL!!! I SWEAR TO DAD!!!!

  Scary stuff, right? It creeps me out. Sometimes I catch myself looking over my shoulder, like one might be behind me. I never believed they were real and know you didn’t either, but Victor’s the one who told me. He was completely sincere and looking out for me.

  It was sweet of him. I wish you could meet him!

  Gotta go. Earthly homework calls. Something called Algebra. Be very glad they don’t have this in Heaven. I’m pretty sure it’s featured in Hell. If I can get motivated, I need to read some Guardian stuff, too.

  Joyously Yours,

  Grace Lightbourne

  Angel-in-Training

  P.S. Is that other AIT (Faith was it?) still your roommate? How’s all your shooting star studying going?

  Chapter 14

  Mrs. Murphy swings the van into a circular, brick driveway when we reach Lacey’s mega-house. There are huge columns in front of a heavy-looking wooden, double doors. It resembles the Hall of Records. I almost expect to see a Cherub or two standing guard.

  Lacey bops out the front door and climbs in back seat next to Tara. “Did you remember your Guardian Angel stuff?”

  Omigod! They did see me last night! I take my cell phone out of the backpack. Strangely, there’s no voicemail from Michael. I attempt to muster every ounce of angelic poise I possess, which admittedly isn’t much, but if I’m going down in flames, I might as well maintain some dignity.

  “I brought Granola bars and Gatorade.” Tara holds up a plain brown gift bag decorated with footballs and #25 and ‘Go Eclipse.’ “Think Cody will like it?”

  “It’s better than mine. My mom bought these.” Lacey thrusts a plastic container of football-shaped cookies at Tara. “Like, how’s that supposed to give Victor protection or energy or whatever? I told her these have a ton of processed sugar. So unhealthy!” She shoves the container into a glossy gift bag with an illustration of a pensive angel printed on it.

  “I bet he’ll like them anyway,” Tara says.

  Holy Granola. What are they talking about?

  Mrs. Murphy glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “So which hunk are you the Guardian Angel for, Grace?”

  “No one says hunk, Mom.” Tara and Lacey giggle and even Mrs. Murphy smiles.

  I’m totally confused. By all of it. Hunk? Hunk of what? Why did Mrs. Murphy ask who I’m a Guardian for? Dear Dad in Heaven. She must know‌—‌or suspect‌—‌but at least she doesn’t realize it’s Tara. And how can they be Guardians? Do they have wings? Maybe this is just a really weird dream? I turn around halfway in the front seat to face Tara and Lacey. What do I look like right now? Probably mostly mystified with a dash of horror tossed in.

  “Oh, Grace! I’m sorry,” Tara says “I didn’t know you very good that first week of school when the sign-ups happened. That’s when all the Guardian Angels were picked. Do they do that in Montana?”

  “No,” I manage. “At least, I don’t think so.”

  Lacey twirls a small section of hair and tosses it back. “You sign up and then you get assigned to a football player and you hope to get a hottie‌—‌which I did, Victor‌—‌and not some sweaty oaf. Then, on game day, you bring the guy a gift, most of us bring food, to wish him a good game. It’s pretty lame, but you get to get out of first period to play angel and deliver the gifts.”

  Whew! That clears up some of my questions. “Oh! You’re not really angels,” I say. If only it were as easy as delivering snacks. “The part of about getting out of class sounds good,” I deadpan.

  Lacey tee-hees and continues explaining. “And then tonight, when we go to the game, we’ll cheer for our players. Because really, if I didn’t have someone to look for, I’d probably be bored out of my mind. So again, I lucked out with Victor, because he’s primo, being the quarterback and everything.”

  Lacey getting Victor is no coincidence. Despite what he said, I still think he’s her Guardian. He was probably just trying to throw me off.

  Lacey fiddles with a fat folder on her lap. “It would suck if you got assigned to a benchwarmer.” She pauses, then looks at Tara. “I don’t think Cody will be a benchwarmer, so lose the look of alarm. I mean, he is the coach’s son and all.”

  I’m pretty bummed. I’d like to see Victor be a quarterback‌—‌whatever that is‌—‌and now I can’t even stay close to my mission. “It’s too bad I can’t go with you tonight.”

  “Why can’t you come?” Tara asks. “I was counting on you.”

  “Well, because I’m not guarding one of the players, right? I mean, I missed my chance.”

  Mrs. Murphy gives me a sideways glance and Lacey cracks up. “You don’t have to be a Guardian Angel. Anyone can go. Didn’t you go to football games in Nevada?”

  “You mean, Montana?”

  “Whatever.”

  “Uh, no. I never made it to one.”

  Tara’s and Lacey’s mouths drop open in unison. Even Mrs. Murphy’s eyes leave the road.

  Lacey closes hers first and then says. “Well, if football is not big out there, you have to come with us tonight. It’s the season kickoff and you’ll see at today’s pep rally, it’s going to be even more exciting this year.”

  Tara covers her mouth to stifle a giggle and that’s when Lacey opens the fat folder she’s been holding. It’s stuffed with fliers printed on slips of pastel paper. Lacey gives me a wink and shows them to Tara, but I can’t see what’s printed on them. Tara laughs in a way that sounds almost like a hiccup, gulping air.

  Mrs. Murphy looks into the rearview mirror. “That didn’t sound good. What are you two up to?”

  Lacey closes the folder and crams it into her backpack. “It’s nothing bad, Mrs. Murphy.” She flashes her best innocent smile into the rearview mirror.

  But Mrs. Murphy’s brows furrow while I try to figure out exactly how bad it will be.

  }{

  When we enter the main hall, I’m assaulted by signs. Rule #4 says to watch for them, but I can’t make any sense of
the banners strung from the ceiling.

  One reads: BLUE DEVIL POWER!!

  Omigod Devils! Wait. Why are they blue? Did Hell freeze over?

  Another: Flame the Jaguars! This one pictures a devil shooting flames from his pitchfork at a big cat.

  For the first time ever, I wish I had a flaming sword. It’d come in handy against that pitchfork thing. And for the second time today, I’m left to wonder about the possibility of a nightmare. Wake up! I tell myself. But the signs don’t go away.

  A huge group of kids are huddled around a poster in the main hall. Another sign. Which one means something? As Tara and Lacey head straight into the crowd, Lacey says, “Spirit Week teams. I hope we’re Pirates.” She adds, “Or Monsters would be cool.”

  “Do you see the devil signs?” I ask Tara in a hushed voice.

  “Yeah?” She says this in a way that makes me feel like the question is silly.

  “Do you know what they mean?”

  “It’s our mascot.” Tara gives me a funky look. Weirder than normal.

  “Is that a good idea?” I grip her arm to try and make her see my point, but it doesn’t faze her.

  Tara scrunches her nose. “I don’t know. It’s what we are.”

  If humans make up stuff about angels, would they make up demons, too. I don’t know, but that seems weird to me. Maybe Mr. Gigantic Wings Michael pulled a fast one and didn’t send me to Earth? What if this is really Hell?

  The closer we get to the poster, the more chaotic it gets. Some look excited; others upset. I’m totally smooshed between two big guys. Tara grabs my wrist and pulls me through to the wall. Lacey called it. It’s a listing of the teams.

  I look for my name but don’t see it. Did I finally get a break? Then, Aisha’s name jumps out at me. She’s on Team Oz. I could use a break. Lacey‌—‌Oz. Don’t be on the list. Tara‌—‌Oz. Pretty please. Cody‌—‌Oz. With sugar on it. Victor‌—‌Oz. Um…