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

by Shel Delisle

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  Aisha 2 and Victor 2 are sitting on a teeter-totter at the Rec Center playground. Victor pushes up hard and Aisha crashes to the Earth. Momentarily, he’s airborn. I almost expect him to sprout wings.

  “You’re such a jerk!” Aisha steps off her end, causing Victor to smash into the ground.

  He laughs.

  They went through training? I take a seat on the edge of the merry-go-round. It’s still messed up from my temper tantrum. Angel anger. Not a good thing. “Have you guys figured anything out, or are you just playing around?”

  They shake their heads; Aisha’s beaded braids clack against each other. “I don’t have a plan yet,” she says, “but I do know Tara is key. She’s the link because she’s dating Cody and she’s Lacey’s best friend. If we can solve your Mission, ours might fall into place.”

  What’s that saying on the poster on Ms. Sands’ wall? A chain’s only as strong as its weakest link? It’s probably one of Michael’s signs. Great. Their success depends on me. And I’m still training.

  I hear Lacey’s voice in my head. “Listen, girls. I have a new idea.”

  }{

  “What?” Tara asks, paintbrush poised inches from the road.

  “We should do graffiti on one of the halls. Did you see the pirate hall? It’s like you’ve walked onto a huge ship. We could put funny notes on the inside of the ship, like Arr. Where’s me booty?”

  What will Tara say? I’m mostly here trying to keep an eye on her, but there’s still a piece of me at River of Grass.

  “Oh, Lace. They’ve worked so hard on that hall. I don’t want to ruin it.”

  “What if we put just one thing on every hall, like Beam Me Up on the alien hall? It’s like we’ll leave our signature everywhere. We can even put We’re Not in Montana Anymore on our hall, so they won’t get that it’s us.”

  “If we put Montana they’ll probably figure it out‌—‌it’s Kansas, Lacey. We’re not in Kansas anymore.”

  Lacey glares at Tara. “You’ve changed now that you’re the big star for Skit Night.”

  “I’m not a big star.”

  Lacey soaks her paintbrush and smears it around on the paper. “Everyone says you’re going to win Best Actress.”

  “It’s just talk, y’know?” Tara blushes.

  It’s true. Everyone keeps talking about Tara’s singing. And it hasn’t turned her into a geek like she feared.

  “Don’t forget who your friends are,” Lacey says with a flick of the brush.

  “You’re my best friend,” Tara says.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Lacey says. “So you’re in, right? Tonight‌—‌after Family Night.”

  }{

  “Earth to Grace,” Aisha says.

  “I’m here. I got distracted. Lacey’s planning another prank.”

  Aisha rolls her eyes. “What now?”

  “Graffiti on Spirit Week halls.”

  Aisha looks caged. “There are times when I long for the old days when we could just send someone to Hell.” She laughs. “Not really, but she’s so infuriating, and she’s been my Assignment for nearly two years now. When will it all end?”

  I didn’t realize Lacey made Aisha crazy. I guess she’s good at keeping her cool. It makes me respect her more.

  “Is Tara playing?” Victor asks.

  “Not yet. Oh! Maybe I need to go back. We could do this another time.”

  “This week’s going to be crazy. There won’t be another good time. So you mentioned that you heard something at the float party? Is it this graffiti thing?”

  “I don’t exactly know. Mr. Toughie just said big.”

  Victor raised one eyebrow. “Mr. Toughie?”

  Aisha’s braids clack as she swivels her head to shoot him an eye dart. “It’s Lacey’s kitten,” she huffs. “Ethan named him that because of his voice.”

  Victor hoots. “Oh. That makes sense now.”

  If I had my wings, I’d flap them around to get their attention because, I mean, who cares how Mr. Toughie got his name? We have a crisis looming. But I have nothing to flap, so I bellow, “Hey!”

  They stop goofing and look at me, eyes wide.

  I feel the heat rise to my face. “Sorry,” I pause. “Anyway. I hate to say this, but the graffiti thing doesn’t sound big to me.”

  Aisha rubs the center of her forehead, like it aches. “No. Definitely not big—not for Lacey.”

  Then I hear Lacey back at school say, “So you’re in, right? Tonight‌—‌after Family Night.”

  }{

  Finn holds both mine and Tara’s hands as he oohs and aahs at the hall decorations. We lift him and swing him back and forth until he giggles wildly. Tara smiles gently at the top of his tousled red head.

  If it wasn’t for Lacey, I guarantee I’d be hearing the ten, nine, eight countdown to launch my first flight.

  When we walk up a gangplank into the pirate hall, Finn points a finger. “Lookit that!” His mouth hangs open.

  Even Mr. Murphy seems impressed. “There was nothing like this when we were in high school.”

  A kid from Team Pirate hands Finn an eye patch. Tara stretches the elastic over his head and adjusts it.

  “No. Not even close,” Mrs. Murphy replies to her husband.

  We stroll around and I admire the work that went into creating this hall. Everything, from the way the ropes and sails are painted to another ship in the distance, leaves me with the sense that I’m standing on the deck of a ship.

  Finn flips the patch up and beams at Tara. “Can we go see your hall now?”

  “Yeah, we can, but promise not to be disappointed. It’s not as good as this one.”

  On the way off the ship we run into Mrs. Fitzsimmons, who’s holding the hand of a grinning Ethan. Lacey is walking a good five paces behind them.

  “Wait until you see the pirate hall!” Finn tells Ethan.

  Ethan claps his hands and Lacey rolls her eyes. He’s exactly like his pictures‌—‌pure and open.

  “Sounds like fun, huh?” Mrs. Fitzsimmons clasps Ethan’s hand and says to Finn, “Ethan’s really enjoying all of this. How about you?”

  Finn fidgets with his eye patch. Up. Down. Up, down. “Me and Tara and Grace are having a blast.” He flips the patch up and leaves it against his forehead. “Is Lacey having fun too?”

  “I’m sure she is!” Mrs. Fitzsimmons says a little too brightly and heads toward the gangplank while Lacey hangs back.

  Nothing about Lacey’s expression says fun. More like miserable.

  She waits to talk to us, and Tara says to her, “It’s nice that your mom came tonight.”

  Lacey mutters to the floor, “Ethan wanted to come. So, of course, we did.” Then her voice goes as loud and cheery and phony as that lady’s red acrylic fingernails from my first day here. “Hey, Tara! You want to come over after Family Night?” She winks and tosses her hair. “Just meet me back here. Mom said it’s okay. You too, Grace.”

  This is code for, We will hide in the bathroom until this place has emptied out so we can scribble things on everyone else’s hard work.

  Tara looks Lacey in the eye, never letting go of Finn’s hand. “Sorry, I can’t tonight. We’re going to Coldstone after this.”

  Yessssss! Yes! Yes! Yes!

  I feel a smile as wide and open as the Pearly Gates spread across my face, but then Lacey gives us a look. If her look were a word, it would be spelled D-O-O-M.

  Doom. I’m doomed.

  Chapter 23

  From: mbeamkind@halo.hvn

  To: glightbourne@halo.hvn

  Subject: thinking of you

  Hi Grace!

  I’m glad to hear things have improved for you! I thought they might because I remember you every night in my prayers. Remember when we used to pray and ask for things for ourselves? I’d usually asked for help on a test and you’d usually want the test to be cancelled. Sheesh!

  That was silly of us.

  So, the other night I was watching an episode of Angel
ic Aid. Faith doesn’t really care for it; she thinks it’s too sappy, but you got me hooked. Anyway… I noticed that during the reenactment of a Mission, the Guardian asked Heaven for help. It got me thinking. And did you know in every single episode, the Guardian always asks for help?

  You probably did. I just never thought of it before. It’s why you’ll be a great Guardian and I’m good at planets and stuff. Which, BTW, I’m loving. Hope to see you soon. I want to take you to Jupiter for a visit. And Venus will blow your mind.

  All heart,

  Mercy

  Angel-in-Training

  I sign out of A-mail, close the laptop and walk to Finn’s room. Ruffling his hair, I ask, “Did you have fun tonight?”

  Finn grins at me. It’s a minor miracle. His teeth seem to be straightening themselves already.

  “You fixed things. She likes me again.” He reaches for my hand.

  “Oh, Finn.” Tears fill my eyes. “I don’t think it’s totally fixed. I’m still here, right?”

  Finn’s expression turns serious and he presses his palms together, fingers pointing skyward. “Dear God, please help Grace. I didn’t mean it when I called her a bad angel. Amen.”

  “Thanks, buddy.” I ruffle his hair again and kiss his forehead. Finn’s prayer warms my heart and gives me a head start, but it’s probably not quite enough.

  Back in my room, I decide if it’s good enough for full Guardians on Angelic Aid and for Finn, it might work for me. On my knees at the edge of my bed, like when Mercy and I were little, I pray. “Help me to complete this mission. Help me to help Victor and Aisha in the best way that I can, because they’ve both been so good to me and it would be nice to return the favor.

  “Help me to get along better with Michael. I know he’s like Top Angel and everything‌—‌so he must be a good guy, or You wouldn’t have given him that job.

  “And help me to be a good Angel too. One who will be worthy of wings.”

  I pause for a moment.

  “I wish I could tell You that the wings don’t matter to me, but You know my every thought, so You’d know I was lying if I said that.”

  I pause again.

  “I think that’s it. No‌—‌wait! Sorry I was so rude to You in the car. Truly. Hope You’ll forgive me. You’re supposed to, You know, so please don’t get too busy and forget. Amen.”

  Chapter 24

  Victor, Aisha and I stride all Guardian-esque into the Spirit Week Dance. We're like some kind of Holy Trinity. Except younger and more stylish.

  Confession: I’ve been a little kooky this week.

  Every little thing has set me off. Like on Field Day, I froze time when Tara climbed to the top the “castle” the Fairy Tale Team had constructed. Or during Skit Night, while Tara sang, I froze time again.

  “What are you doing?” Aisha asked in that bossy tone she gets sometimes.

  “I don’t know,” I confessed. “It just seems like something is going to happen right now.”

  “Well, keep it in motion until you see something.”

  I can’t even remember what made me freeze time during the parade and the football game. But I did.

  So to say my senses are heightened would be an understatement. More like, I can see ultraviolet and hear the dog-whistle frequency. Okay, an exaggeration, but you get my drift.

  After the dinner, Victor asked me to slow dance.

  “Maybe later,” I said. Talk about kooky. See what I mean?

  Halfway through the dance, the DJ hands Ms. Sands the mic. It took a little while, but eventually everyone got over the pep rally prank. Ms. Sands is a really great teacher and a super nice person, so that made it Angel-fast.

  “What a way to end Spirit Week!” she says to clapping and a few hoots around the room. “Hasn’t this week been great? It’s time for Spirit Week Superlatives,” she continues to more whoops and clapping. “The first award will go to the team with the Best Hall Decorations.” She opens an envelope, which is really only needed for… suspense purposes. “Team Pirate!”

  A cute senior guy dons an eye patch with his tux, and I see others around the room do the same. One guy from his team yells, “Arr, Mateys” as he makes his way to the stage.

  “Congratulations!” Ms. Sands hands Pirate Guy a trophy. He smiles and pretends to slash the air with a sword. Ms. Sands motions for him to please step back to a place on the stage behind her. “Up next—” Ms. Sands picks up another envelope, “—we have Field Day.”

  Victor is already making his way to the stage because it was, like, no contest. I’m not sure we won it fair and square. Is it cheating to have three athletic angels on your team?

  “Team Oz!” Ms. Sands exclaims as Victor arrives at the front of the stage. Instead of climbing the steps, he swings his arms and leaps directly onto the stage. Ms. Sands laughs. “I think we can see why Team Oz won.”

  Victor kisses Ms. Sands on the cheek, takes the trophy from her and holds it overhead while we cheer like mad. He takes his place next to Pirate Guy and they fist-bump.

  “Our next prizes are for Best Actor and Actress Performances at Skit Night. The winners are Tara Murphy in the role of Dorothy‌—‌I’m sure it was the singing on this one‌—‌and Alex Rodriguez for his humorous alien.”

  Tara looks stunning in her Emerald City green dress as she makes her way to the stage. It shows off her fair complexion and flaming red hair. Cody can’t take his eyes off her and pride swells in me too, because here’s this girl who is taking the spotlight for all the right reasons.

  She accepts the trophy from Ms. Sands and Victor gives her a hug as she goes to stand next to him. My nerves twitch. I scan the crowd. Where is Aisha? My stomach flutters and it has nothing to do with Victor this time because he’s not even nearby.

  I’m foggy as Ms. Sands names the winner of the float competition‌—‌The Greek god’s team for their depiction of Olympus. As a girl in a floaty dress takes the trophy, a dark shape stirs near the ceiling over the stage. My nerves notch higher, if that’s even possible.

  Where’s Lacey? I see her talking to a muscled guy I’m pretty sure was on the Greek God team near a corner of the stage. It seems like she’s avoided us all night. She fidgets and keeps glancing up over the stage. Does she see the shadow too?

  I move closer to the stage, weaving between the tables and across the empty dance floor, eyes never leaving the ceiling. What’s up there? It’s a net holding hundreds of balloons in our school colors. Nobody bends time, but everything around me moves slowly, like some freaky movie version of what we do. Lacey hugs Greek God guy. The net is released. The balloons fall. And, in a split second I know something is wrong.

  I freeze time. Again.

  “Graa-aaa-ace!” Victor and Aisha wail together.

  I wave my arm. “Over here.”

  Aisha walks quickly toward me. The click-clack of her heels telegraphs her annoyance. “What is it this time?” she asks, all huffy.

  I point up at the object suspended mid-air. “The balloons. Something’s wrong. They’re falling too fast.”

  For some reason, known only to Him, they believe me. In a flash, they both sprout wings and fly up to check on the balloons. Victor examines one. “They’re filled with paint. Good call, Grace.”

  Aisha flits above me from one to another. “Yeah. It looks like all of them. Boy, she really did it up this time.” She sighs. “I don’t know what to do about her.”

  “I do,” Victor says and flies one of the balloons to a spot directly above Lacey’s head. “Justice.”

  “No way! That wouldn’t be right,” Aisha argues.

  I tend to agree. I mean, Lacey was going to pull a really mean stunt. Even worse, on her best friend. But still, paint on her head? “Can’t we keep it from happening without that?” I point at the balloon Victor moved.

  “It can’t just be thwarted.” Victor repositions the balloon to a spot near Lacey. “She needs a wake-up call.” He zooms back and forth, arranging balloons in a semi-circle around h
er. Aisha must agree because she’s pushing balloons through the air too.

  “All of them?” Victor asks.

  Aisha shakes her head and carries the remaining gently to the floor as though they had already landed.

  “Won’t this cause dissonance?” I ask.

  “Big time.” Victor lands on the floor next to me and his wing encircles my shoulder. “But they—” his arm sweeps across the room, “—will rationalize it all away. They always do.”

  Aisha touches down gracefully, which is no small feat. Truly. She’s wearing three-inch-high sandals.

  They both tuck their wings inside.

  “Thanks guys.” A lump rises in my throat. “I couldn’t have protected her without you.”

  Aisha hugs me. “I think your Mission is almost done. I sure hope this works for mine.”

  Victor takes his place back on stage; Aisha and I go separate ways and then I put everything into motion.

  The balloons fall, break and splatter Lacey’s midnight blue gown with Emerald City green, Kansas twister gray and Brick Road yellow. She screams and jumps. A few kids gasp. But mostly, there’s a huge abyss of silent shock.

  “That’s not what was supposed to happen!” she shrieks and points to the stage littered with full, unbroken balloons.

  Every eye is on Lacey. Tara is open-mouthed. She notices a balloon near her toes and then stares at her best friend, comprehension dawning. Then, her face changes. Lacey’s crying, and Tara starts toward her.

  Again, I see the dark shape in the rafters. This time it moves so fast, it’s a blur. Suddenly, an enormous balloon floats down slowly, slowly. Directly above Lacey’s head.

  The bubble is five, no, ten times as large as the others and is an iridescent white instead of our school colors. Other students take notice and soon every head is turned to watch its descent. Tara stops to watch too.

  It hovers for the briefest moment until Lacey looks up and gasps. “Oh, God!”

  The bubble bursts, drenching her in clear water. Her hair and dress are soaked. She covers her face and weeps while Tara hugs her, swaying.