by E. Van Lowe
Chapter Ten
Why do boys lie?
Seriously. Why do boys even bother to spin the lies they know they’re going to get caught in later? It’s stupid! And if the boy in question happens to be an angel, that makes it even stupider, since I’m certain there must be some kind of angelmorals code forbidding angels to lie—even fallen angels. And if there isn’t a code, there ought to be.
“Hi… Rocky. Nice to meet you.” The fact that I was able to choke out a cordial greeting is a testament as to how strong a person I must be, because in that moment, I wasn’t feeling like greeting anyone. The way Guy had called Rocky his friend set the alarm bells ringing in my mind. Friend meant more than friend. A lot more.
Guy introduced Maudrina to Rocky, and Maudrina proceeded to compliment the drop-dead gorgeous angel on the sheen of her hair. This diversion gave me time to shoot Guy the stink eye. He pretended not to notice. Boys!
“Megan,” he said softly. “Umm… we need to talk.”
“Yes, we do,” I said smiling sweetly. “Maudrina, why don’t you go inside and find Curtis. I’ll catch up in a little bit.”
From the change in Maudrina’s expression, she could tell something was troubling me—even if Guy couldn’t. She headed inside, and Guy suggested the three of us take a walk.
“Sure. Say, Rocky, I need to have a minute alone with Guy.” My voice was syrupy sweet. “You mind?”
She shot Guy a questioning eye. “Of course. I’ll meet you two at the car,” she said in a throaty voice, before striding down the stairs with her long beautiful legs, made even more long and beautiful by the tight mini-skirt she was wearing. Every boy on the steps was ogling her.
“That’s Rocky!” I screeched the moment she was out of earshot.
“Yes,” he replied innocently, as if he had no idea why I was so hot.
“You told me Rocky was a he.”
“No. You assumed she was a he.”
“You didn’t do anything to let me know I was wrong. You lied to me, Guy.”
“I did no such thing,”he replied getting indignant.
“Of course you did.” My voice was rising. Eyes were on us. Among those eyes were Ashley Scott’s. No doubt this argument would be broadcast all over the gym within five minutes.
Thanks a lot, friend!
Guy noticed people staring and attempted to quiet me. “Calm down, Megan. You’re getting emotional.”
Unfortunately, he said the wrong thing.
“That’s because I’m a mortal! And you know how emotional us mortals are,” I was out of control, losing it like a crazy person.
Give him the benefit of the doubt, a small voice in my head said softly. I took a few deep breaths.
“We have to go,” he mumbled nervously.“Rocky’s waiting. Let’s talk while we walk.”
He started to usher me away. The only reason I let him is I was trying to listen to the small voice my head, which was difficult, considering there was an even bigger voice in my head screaming, LIAR!
I allowed him to pull me away. It would have been too embarrassing to stay on the steps with half the student body walking past us into the gym.
In the opening of the movie, The Blind Side, Sandra Bullock’s voiceover tells a story about a quarterback guy who got creamed by this line guy because no one was guarding his blindside. You get where I’m going with this? Meeting Rocky was like getting hit by a four hundred pound line guy. What made it so bad was, I thought my Guy was looking out for my blindside, when in reality, he was playing for the other team.
I know, enough with the sports analogies. In layman’s terms, I felt blindsided.
We walked in silence for several minutes.
“You called her your friend,” I said, struggling keep my voice even. “Is she your girlfriend?” I was looking straight ahead. I didn’t want to look into his face when he answered. I didn’t want to see him lie.
“You’re my girlfriend.” There was an edge to his voice. I didn’t care.
“Maybe I’m the other woman.”
“Megan, please—”
I stopped walking. “Don’t you dare patronize me, Guy Matson.” Tears sprang into my eyes. “There’s something about the way she was standing next to you. She was eyeing me like maybe I was the other woman. You two are very close. If she’s not your girlfriend,who is she?”
“She’s an angel, Megan. A very powerful angel.”
“And what else?” I knew there was more to it. The tears were starting to fall.
“And I told her about your encounter with the Ibwa. We both think you may have supernatural powers.”
“What?”
“That’s why you were able to command him. He sensed you are more powerful than he is.”
“Guy Matson, don’t you dare try changing the subject on me. I don’t give a hoot about any powers. What is your relationship with Rocky? I want the truth!” I squawked, glaring daggers into his eyes.
He stared at me silently as gawkers passed on their way to the gym. Worry lines appeared on his brow. After a few moments he spoke.
“We were betrothed.” The words limped across his lips. He was staring at the ground. My tears continued to fall.
Chapter Eleven
I was drowning.
My lungs were slowly filling with water, and I knew if I inhaled one more time I would surely die. So I stood where I was, holding onto my last, precious breath.
We were on the walkway midway between the gymnasium complex and the main building. The sun was shining. It was 3:23 pm. The smell of jasmine was in the air. I was wearing the layered look that was fashionable this season. These were the sights and sounds of the world when the love that once filled my heart died.
My knees buckled. Guy caught me as I collapsed, and he helped me to a nearby bench.
“Megan!” He sounded panic stricken. “Megan, breathe,” he called as he laid me on the bench, a look of horror on his face. “Breathe!”
“Why?” I croaked. “Go to her. Leave me here to me die in peace.”
A small smile pierced his lips. “You’re not going to die, Megan.” He thought I was being dramatic.
Okay, maybe I was being dramatic, but when your boyfriend, who has confessed his undying love for you, tells you he is planning on marrying somebody else, I think a little drama is called for—either drama or hemlock. Maybe both.
“If I’m not going to die, then maybe you should,” I rasped.
His smile vanished. “I deserve that.”
“Yes, you do. And more.”
I sat up. I was breathing again. My faculties were slowly returning. Physically, I was going to survive. My emotional survival was another story.
“You’re looking better. You okay now?” he asked.
I punched him in the arm as hard as I could.
“Betrothed!” I screeched.
“It’s not what you think.”
“Does it mean the two of you are supposed to get married?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re wrong. It’s exactly what I think.” I punched him again.
“Megan, please! Let me explain. If my explanation doesn’t pass muster, then you can finish beating the crap out of me.”
I considered what he’d said. “You can’t explain away the fact that you lied to me, Guy.” I moved a stray strand of hair out of my eyes.
He opened his mouth, probably to again deny it, but thought better of it. He took a long, slow breath. “You’re right. But allow me to explain anyway.” He looked at me, eyes hopeful.
“Okay,” I said my voice hollow.
He sat a few moments, composing his thoughts. When he next spoke, his words were measured. “Heaven is a very orderly place. Nowhere is that order more apparent than among the angels. There are so many angels in heaven with so many different powers, and so many different responsibilities toward serving God and mankind, that the angels have an order, or system, for dividing up the work.”
“You’re talking about the nin
e orders of angels,” I said.
His eyes widened slightly. “You know about The Nine?”
“I know a little. I’m a trivia buff dating an angel. You know me, I tried to find out everything I could.”
He smiled knowingly. “There are three hierarchies among the angels; each hierarchy is divided into three orders. Three times three—nine.” He looked at me a moment, to make sure I understood before going on. “Each order is divided by rank, the highest, the intermediate, and the lower.”
“Guardians are among the lowest order?” I didn’t say it to hurt his feelings. If my research was correct, it was true.
“Yes. My kind is the lowest of the low, the bottom rung on the ladder, which places us closest to man. In the lowest hierarchy the three orders are Principalities, Archangels and Angels or Guardians. I am a Guardian.” Something changed in his eyes. “One level above mine the three orders are: The Dominions, The Virtues and The Powers. The last are known as The Powers because they have power of demons, and in certain situations, even Satan himself.”
“Rocky is a Power,” I said flatly. It wasn’t a question. I knew Guy. I knew the way he spoke, the way he composed an argument.
“Yes,” he replied softly.“She is a demon fighter.” He rubbed his hand across his brow and raked it through his hair.
“So… marrying up, are we?” I asked with a sarcastic lilt.
A pained expression crossed his face.
“Angels are very old-fashioned. For those angels who marry, our marriage partners are chosen for us by members of the order known as The Thrones. Thrones are among the upper echelon of angels. It is said that God’s intellect resides in Thrones. Anything they determine is considered God’s will.”
I was starting to see where he was headed. “So you’re telling me this higher order of angels, The Thrones, betrothed you to Rocky.” Again, it wasn’t a question, but he answered anyway.
“Yes. When we were very young. They say it is God’s will that Rocky and I wed.” There was agony in his eyes, as if hurting me was the last thing he wanted to do. How could that be, when he’d done it so masterfully? “But I couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. I knew that I loved you. The weekend I spent away from you, I broke it off.”
Now that he’d told the entire story, I could see the lines on his face relaxing. He was feeling vindicated. Yet it changed nothing. I still felt betrayed.
“I bet that went over well.” More sarcasm.
Just then a loud cheer erupted from the gymnasium. The G.U. Panthers were taking the court.
“The game is starting,” he said.
“Sounds like it.”
“Well… you need to get back to your friends. I’ll go tell Rocky we can talk to her another time about your supernatural powers. I can be back before half time.”
“Don’t bother.”
His mouth dropped open, his eyes searching my face for answers.
“I can’t pretend you didn’t hurt me just because you think you were justified. You lied to me, Guy.”
“I didn’t lie!” The pain and worry returned to his face.
“A lie of omission is a lie all the same. Now I’m standing here wondering what other lies you’ve told.”
“I haven’t told any lies,” he said with emphasis.
A thin smile crossed my lips. “I know you don’t think you’ve lied, you being an angel and all. Technically, you’re right. You didn’t lie. But you knew you were omitting the truth. It wasn’t an oversight. You didn’t tell me Rocky was a beautiful girl because you didn’t want to deal with my reaction. And that makes it a lie.”
He nodded gently. I thought I saw tears welling-up in his eyes. “So… where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know. I think we need a time-out. I’ll call you.”
“Megan… I love you.” He had the little lost boy look in his eyes that made him so adorable. I’ve always loved that look. But not today.
“I know you do. And I love you too. But right now, it’s not enough.”
“You’re still in danger, Megan. Being mad at me doesn’t stop the demons who want to do harm to you.” His words leaked pain.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, and walked away.
#
Chocolate.
When I was a little girl, whenever something happened that rocked my world—it rained on the day of my outdoor birthday party, or the planned trip to Disneyworld turned out to be too expensive—my mother would produce copious amounts of chocolate to sooth my aching heart. It seemed to work. There’s a quality in chocolate that makes the pain in a girl’s heart more bearable.
The entire time I was at the game between G.U. and Coronado, I craved chocolate. I had convinced myself that once the game was over, and I dipped into some serious chocolate, the ice cube lodged in my soul would begin to melt away, and I’d feel a whole lot better.
Of course that wasn’t true. Nothing was going to melt the frozen misery in my soul. I had just dumped the only boy I ever loved. I didn’t even know what love felt like before Guy. A part of me wanted all the wonderful feelings back, the feelings that filled me to the brim with joy just a few hours ago: the laughter, the looks, the kisses. But I couldn’t shake the awful feeling of betrayal.
Maudrina had totally forgotten about the change she’d seen in me outside on the steps. When I joined her, she was busy enjoying herself with Curtis.
When I entered the gym, I found them standing in front of the crowded bleachers, surrounded by the Poplarati. Maudrina was cheering her head off as the Panthers warmed up. Curtis was by her side, a smile on his face, as he whispered in her ear.
For a split second, I no longer saw Maudrina and Curtis. I saw me and Guy, which drove my thoughts back to our confrontation, and kept my soul on ice.
As soon as I got home, I went to the freezer and pulled out the pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie we keep stashed away for such occasions as this. I heated a spoon under scalding water and dug in. The silky-smooth of the chocolate butter fat felt good swirling around inside my mouth. Aside from the feeling in my mouth, there was no relief. The ice cube was still in my soul. In fact, the ice cube had grown to the size of an iceberg.
It was more than the betrayal.
In my heart, I always knew that Guy had wanted his wings back, that he was still hoping to win back favor in heaven and return to serving mankind. Loving me made him conflicted. Loving me had him wanting two things, yet he could have only one. It was either wings or Megan. Not both. It could never be both. However, if there was a drop dead beautiful angel for him to love, there would be no conflict. It would all be so perfect.
That was the problem. If I was going to be honest with myself, I had to admit that Rocky was perfect for Guy. She was angel; I was mortal. Marrying her would be marrying up; marrying me would be marrying down—way down. With her, he could have his wings and serve mankind; with me he would have… me. And no matter how much I tried to rationalize it, I knew I could never be enough. This was my secret motive, a reason I wasn’t yet consciously ready to admit to myself as to why I broke things off with Guy. The betrayal was just a small part of it. He was angel, I was mortal.
Truth is, in my heart, I knew I wasn’t enough.
I could never be enough.
#
We had Chinese takeout for dinner.
It was strange small-talking with my mother between the Moo Shu chicken and the twice-cooked pork,feeling the way I did. We talked about school and work. I told her the story of Tran and the transformer shirt, and she laughed in all the appropriate places. She told me about how her boss was trying to save money so he stopped buying paper towels for the bathrooms, and I made gagging noises in all the appropriate places.
In many ways, it was a typical dinner. Only difference was, the whole time we were dining, my heart was breaking.
Later, when I got to my room, I checked to make sure there was no sign that a demon had tampered with my window, closet or secret hidin
g place. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, I sat down at my desk.
As I was about to start work on my A Raisin In the Sun English paper, I spied the matching friendship bracelet on my wrist. Suddenly I could no longer bear the feel of it against my skin. I eyed the colorful braided rope that once filled me with joy. I was overcome by a feeling of emptiness. It seeped through my pores and settled in my bones. In one, quick motion, I yanked off the bracelet and threw it under the bed. I couldn’t bear to look at it anymore.
#
Guy didn’t text or call Friday night, Saturday or Sunday.
Is he punishing me?
I thought he might try for another apology. Or maybe that’s what I hoped—that he cared enough to try and save what we had.
Or maybe he’s with Rocky.
This is what happens when a girl has too much time on her hands, time to think her most frightening thoughts. She does just that and starts thinking the worst. The more I thought of Guy and Rocky, the more I doubted that he ever loved me. I was just a passing infatuation, a chance to see what life was like among the mortals.
I was grateful when the weekend dragged to an end, and I had to go back to school. In school, I could focus on my friends and my work, and not think about Guy all the time. AP exams were coming up soon. I needed to be thinking clearly for them.
Monday morning dragged unmercifully.
In English, we were allowed to work on our papers in class while Miss Karcher caught up on her administrative duties. Alone time was the last thing I needed. I could have used a lively debate on what the Youngers ofA Raisin in the Sun should have done with their ten thousand dollar inheritance, or even a juicy pop quiz—anything to keep my mind from drifting to Guy.
Later, as I was leaving French class, Ashley Scott cornered me by the door. She was eyeing me with the kind of fake concern a cobra must have just before it devours a helpless mouse.
“Hey, Megan. Is everything okay with you and Guy?” I had almost forgotten that Ashley had been witness to my outburst outside the basketball game.
“Yes. But thanks for asking,” I replied quickly, hoping that would put an end to it.