by Isobel Lucas
On Raven’s Wings
the first installment in the
Hell Bent/Heaven Sent
series
by
Isobel Lucas
Copyright © 2012 by 80 Pages, Inc
Published by 80 Pages, Inc
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used factitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form by or any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.
1st Edition: September 2012
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Chapter One
"Hey, check it out! It's the Virgin Mary!"
I dipped my chin, refusing to look at any of the kids who were snickering at me. My first day in public school at Hills of Bradford High and already I was an outcast. My Catholic school reputation obviously preceded me. If my dad’s company hadn’t cut his salary by twenty percent and my mom’s realtor business hadn’t crashed, I’d still be among the quiet, hallowed halls of St. Lucy’s instead of this riotous bedlam only two months after school started.
An arm slung around my shoulder, guiding me to the side of the hallway. My best friend, Triniti, went to HBHS. Over the summer, I replied to a flyer she’d put on lampposts downtown. She wanted someone to play drums in her band, Devastation. I applied and within days we were best friends.
Triniti was willowy, beautiful, and quite simply hot. I was the exact opposite: short, dumpy, and forgettable. The Virgin Mary comment wasn't far off, but they didn't need to know that.
"Ignore them. By the end of the night, they'll all know your face and they'll all love you."
"You said no one would come to our first gig."
Triniti twirled a finger in a lock of hair. I didn't buy the innocent act for a second.
"Why did you lie to me?"
"I didn't exactly lie, love. I just thought it might calm your nerves a bit."
"It isn't doing much good now that I know. The whole school won't be there, right?"
Triniti patted me on the head. "Not the whole school. I don't think the teachers will show up."
I sighed inside and mentally rolled my eyes. Catholic school had taught me discipline over my emotions. The teachers didn't strike the students for misbehaving anymore, but they knew who acted up and who didn't. My mental defiance was good enough for me. Like the nuns, I didn't think Triniti would appreciate it if I dissed her. Besides, she was the only friend I had at HBHS. I didn't want to screw that up.
"So have you checked out any of the guys here yet? They're all dying to get with the new girl. It wouldn't take much to lose the Virgin Mary nickname."
"Can't you just tell everyone my stage name? If they know me as Raven, the Virgin Mary thing will disappear, right?"
"No, love, it'll take only one bragging guy besmirching your chastity to get rid of that nickname." Triniti spun the combo on her locker like a pro. "Besides, I think half of them suspect you're already a raging nympho. The whole Catholic schoolgirl thing is really sexy."
I glanced down at my baggy ripped jeans and neon hoodie. Somehow I didn't think anyone would mistake me for a sexpot.
"Which guys will take advantage of me?"
Triniti wiggled an eyebrow at me. "Oooh, so you can find them and get rid of that nickname right away?"
Another mental eye roll. "No, so I can avoid them."
Triniti sighed. "Once I point them out to you, you'll be dying to unbutton their flies. Trust me. We have some scorching guys in this school."
The crowd in the hallway slowly parted. Like a scene in a bad teen movie, a group of guys sauntered down the hall in a reverse phalanx, with the tallest, most muscular, hottest teen boy I'd ever seen leading the group.
"That's Ian," Triniti sighed in my ear. "Lose your virginity to him and everyone within his text network will know in minutes. They'll probably even get a video of it."
"Have you been with him?"
"Oh, God, no. He's a total ass. Besides, I only go for college boys. They're better lovers."
I thought about asking how many guys she'd been with to justify that statement, but I didn't want to know. Not really. Well, maybe a little, but I held my tongue anyway. I'd find out later.
"He looks like a god.” I immediately regretted saying it. He was hotter than any god in all the religious texts I'd studied over the years.
"He thinks he's one too," Triniti said, her voice laced with disgust. "Seriously. Avoid him."
Ian and his groupies passed by us, and I couldn't help but stare at his ass, popping up and down with his legs. I drooled mentally, while reminding myself that he was so far out of my league. Plus I didn't really want to get with a guy who'd tape the whole thing then text it to the world.
I slammed my locker shut, algebra book tucked tightly against my chest. "I'll find some cute nerd in my math class instead."
Triniti snorted, which, ironically, was really adorable. Every noise I made was awful. I had to learn from this girl.
"Love, even the nerds are hot commodities in this school. They're going to be the billionaire engineers of the future."
"What about girls like me? Who do I get to date?" At Catholic school, I didn't have a chance. It was an all-girls school. Our principal, who was also a nun, was so strict that we weren't allowed to have mixers with the boys' school down the road. I had hoped someone with a penis would look my way at HBHS.
"Girls like you have to hope the girls like me toss you our leftovers." Triniti laughed so hard her hoop earrings shook. "I'm totally kidding, Raven. You'll find a guy here, I promise. You're the new girl. Every guy will want a piece of you."
The warning bell rang and the crowds dispersed. I gave Triniti a quick hug, and then ran down the hall to algebra. Last night I took the virtual tour of the school on their website. It was so accurate, I felt like I’d been going there all my life. I flung the door open and gave the teacher, Mr. Michaels, my transfer slip. He should have been expecting me, but the school secretary gave me a note for each teacher to remind them.
"Ms. Joseph." Yes, my name was Mary Joseph. It couldn't get more biblical than that. Was it any wonder I’d taken Raven as my stage name? "Welcome to algebra. Take a seat over there." He waved absently to the back corner of the room, right next the guy who was hotter than the gods.
Ian kicked the chair next to him, pushing it back for me. It was the closest thing to chivalry I'd seen in a teen boy. I mentally swooned, but as far as anyone else knew I casually sat down, not even acknowledging his presence.
The rest of the class went by in a blur. I didn’t hear a word Mr. Michaels said. I'd been too busy purposely ignoring Ian.
"Psst, Virgin Mary," he said after class. I closed my notepad, pretending not to hear him. I refused to answer to that nickname anyway. If I did it once, everyone would think it was okay. It wasn't.
"Raven," he said. This time I stopped what I was doing and looked up at him.
"Yeah?"
"Go back to your old school. We don't need your kind here."
Chapter Two
Triniti and I squirreled into the tiny dressing room backstage. Troy and Rick used the dank guys bathroom down the hall. They both claimed all they needed wa
s a place to pee. I tried to see my reflection in the grimy mirror in front of me. My hair hung straight to my shoulders, like a curtain from the turn of the century, dark, thick, and boring. Triniti pulled the plaid headband out of my hair.
“This is from Catholic school, right?”
I nodded. I’d worn headbands like that since preschool. I wasn’t even sure how to do anything else with my hair.
“It’s lame. You’re not in Catholic school anymore. Let’s kill off Virgin Mary before the concert.” Triniti reached into her bag and pulled out a makeup case. She dumped its contents on the table in front of us. Tubes I couldn’t even identify rolled on the table.
“You use all of this?” I stretched up and touched her face with a fingertip. It didn’t feel, or look, made up.
“Absolutely. It’s knowing how to put it on that makes a difference.” She cocked her head to the side, staring at me. “But with you, I think we’re going to go for something dramatic.”
Triniti grabbed a ponytail holder, pulled my hair away from my face, and secured it in back. A little makeup would just make me look stupid. I tried before and I always looked like a little girl playing dress up. While I hoped Triniti could do more with me, I wasn’t holding my breath.
“Close your eyes.”
I complied but asked, “How will that help? Don’t my eyes need to be open to put on eyeliner?”
Triniti didn’t say another word. Crinkling fabric told me she was reaching into her bag for something. Probably base. That’s what always went on first, right?
With a quick tug on the ponytail, a metallic shushing noise brought me to attention. My head suddenly felt five pounds lighter. “What did you do?” My eyelids flipped open and I grabbed the back of my head.
My hair was gone, lying in a dismembered ponytail on the floor.
“What did you do?” I squealed again.
Triniti placed her hands on the side of my head so I couldn’t jerk again. “Hold still. I still have to cut the rest.”
“Have you ever cut anyone’s hair before?” Dread poured into my chest. My mom was going to kill me.
Triniti shook her head. “I’m going for the choppy look anyway. No one will know it wasn’t done in a salon for a stupid amount of money.”
She happily snipped my hair. It floated to the floor like feathers falling from a torn pillow in a slumber party fight. The mirror showed a girl with funky hair and a sour look on her face. The corner of my mouth lifted. Maybe it was just the look I needed to break free from Virgin Mary.
When Triniti finished destroying my good girl cut, she spun my chair around and grabbed a tube of liquid black eyeliner. Her thumb tugged on the corner of my eye, stretching it until I thought it might tear, and then she layered on the makeup.
“Wow, Raven, you actually look like your nickname now.” She placed her hands on my shoulders. “Do you want to see?”
I sat still, not answering.
“You’ll love it. I promise.” Triniti turned the chair around, without my permission again. “Have I ever led you astray?”
My lap still had a few chunks of hair lying on it. I said a quick prayer for the death of my old look and glanced in the mirror.
The girl looking back at me wasn’t someone I recognized. She was a hardcore rocker. A troublemaker. A girl who’d never said ten Hail Mary’s every night before nodding off to sleep.
I reached out, touching my fingertips to hers. The old me had one thing in common with the new me – black nail polish. It was my only rebellious change after leaving Catholic school. Turns out it was just the first step to turning into this new person.
I cracked a smile, which was all it took for Triniti to jump up and down, screaming. “I knew you’d love it! You’re gorgeous and it totally fits in with the band’s look. You’re dangerous and sexy now, Raven. It’s been hiding inside, clawing to come out. Good thing I had the right key to set it free. You’re going to kill it tonight. Now put this on.”
She tossed me a tiny black dress. I stripped out of my jeans and sweater, pulling the dress over my head. It shimmied over my body, falling over every curve I never knew I had.
“Take off your underwear!” Triniti ordered. “It’s hideous.”
True. I wasn’t expecting to change clothes and had worn an old, ratty pair. “What? No! Did you bring extra clean underwear too?” The mirror agreed with Triniti. The bunches and folds in my granny pants were creating bulges in the dress.
“No. Just go LiLo.”
“I am not going on stage without underwear. I’m playing the drum set, Triniti! I can’t even keep my legs together.”
She tapped a long fingernail against her cheek. “That’s a really great way to get publicity…”
“No!”
“Well, you can’t go out there with the dress like that.”
I glared at her, and then shimmied my underwear down my legs. I kicked them on my pile of discarded clothes. The old me shriveled up like the Wicked Witch of the West when she had the water dumped on her.
“Hopefully no one will see anything through the drumhead. I’m so glad we went with the black logo instead of the white one,” I said.
Triniti threw her arms around me. “Welcome to the world of hot girls, Raven. I knew you were hiding in there somewhere.”
“I’m still not sure this is me. I’ve been a goody two shoes my whole life. I feel like Sandy at the end of Grease.”
“Grease?” Triniti looked confused.
“The old movie from the ‘70s? About the good girl and the bad boy?”
Her stare couldn’t have been any more blank.
“Olivia Newton John and John Travolta?”
Triniti snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, that Scientology guy who might be gay?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” I giggled. Triniti and I had a lot in common, but vintage movies obviously weren’t one of them.
“You ready to show the world what you’re made of?”
She held out her hand.
“Hang on a sec,” I said. I reached into the hip pocket of my jeans, pulled out my little square scapular and stuffed it into my shoe. A small relic from Catholic school days. Legend said if we died while wearing a scapular, we’d go straight to heaven. With the way my nerves were acting, a little reassurance couldn’t hurt.
I slipped my hand into Triniti’s and we headed out of the tiny room. A low whistle carried in the air. “Damn, Raven. What did Triniti do to you?”
My first instinct was to twirl around like a little girl, but instead I cocked one hip out to the side and rolled my eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Troy. I always look like this.”
“Pick up your jaw, Rick.” Triniti tapped his chin with her fingertips. “Remember, no dating in the group. If you guys think Raven’s hot, then use it to sell the band. Dicks off, boys.”
“Well that was before I realized she was so sexy.” Troy slung his guitar to the side, then lifted the neck of the guitar out in a faux erection.
I slapped him on the shoulder. “Haha, funny.” I took a deep breath. “You guys ready?”
Rick nodded. “Let’s kill ‘em.”
Chapter Three
I imagined a bar would be filled with smoke and the stink of beer, but since it was underage night none of those temptations hung in the air. Instead, the scent of cola and popcorn permeated the stale atmosphere. I wrinkled my nose. We were a hardcore rock band. It was almost embarrassing to play our first gig in a place like this.
Triniti told me the band would be the first step to a new image. Drums came easy. I'd never had a formal lesson, but rhythm flowed in me. It was unstoppable. At least I finally had an outlet for the beats constantly pulsing in my head.
The drum set was already on stage, set up by our roadies, a few guys who all hoped to get in Triniti's pants. She teased them endlessly and strung them along like kittens after a ball of yarn. Triniti had a gift, one I was jealous of.
The Virgin Mary nickname wasn't far off. I'd kisse
d a couple of guys, but never anything that set my toes on fire. There'd been a little awkward touching, followed by me instinctively pushing them away. In the last year, though, nada. I felt like an iceberg, dry, frozen, and yearning for something to make me melt.
I sat down on my stool and spun a drumstick between my fingers. Years of boredom in school had led to me perfecting the pencil twirl. At least it came in handy now. I had to admit, I looked pretty damn cool spinning the black drumsticks with red fire painted on them.
"You ready, chica?" Triniti asked. She wasn’t Latina, but using Spanish slang somehow made her hotter to all of the guys. More exotic, if that was possible. Or it could have been the way she looked at them from fluttering eyelashes. Or her boobs that every other girl on the planet was jealous of.
"Yeah, I think so." Sweat trickled down the back of my neck. I wiped it away with my palm, and then smeared that on my dress. Gross. No wonder none of the guys ever looked at me. I was disgusting. I should have listened all of those times my mom told me to stop picking my nose and biting my nails. At least I didn't pick my nose anymore.
Triniti reached over with both hands and ruffled my hair. "We'll be great. We've practiced our asses off. Hard work always pays dividends." Triniti sang a few bars of our opening song, then smiled and sashayed to the front of the stage. Then she turned back to me. "Oh, by the way, the guys and I decided we'd end the first set with your new song. I don't know the words yet. I want you to sing it."
My chest deflated. Every miniscule ounce of confidence I'd forced myself to feel rushed out in one breath. "No."
"Yes," Triniti said, "and you'll enjoy yourself. You'll be awesome. Just wait until you hear all of the applause. It'll be a great confidence booster."
"Not on our first night. I won't do it." I tapped the edge of the cymbal with a drumstick, my hand on the golden metal, keeping the sound muffled. Drumming always calmed me. Heavy, pounding, frantic drumming. I couldn't do that here. Not in front of everyone. My soul would have to settle for a tiny tap.