Milayna
Page 14
We pulled into the parking lot of a little ice cream shop. He got out and jogged around the car to open my door. The awkward feeling was back. No one had ever treated me that way, carrying my books and opening doors. Even past boyfriends hadn’t done that.
Chay held the door to the ice cream shop open. It was a simple place. The back wall, the first thing I saw when I walked in, was lined with a counter-high freezer full of dozens of flavors of ice cream.
“Some of them are made here. You can’t get them anywhere else,” Chay told me.
“Wow, Ben and Jerry’s better watch out, huh?”
At the front of the store were booths and tables, all done in red vinyl and shiny metal. The floor was black-and-white checkered tile. There was a jukebox to my right. Nineteen-fifty’s nostalgia hung from the walls and neon signs directed you to the bathrooms, the cashier, and proclaimed Uncles the best ice cream in Michigan. It was the coolest place I’d seen.
An older man behind the counter greeted Chay. “It’s been a couple of days since your last ice cream fix. I was worried something was wrong. You here for the usual?” A broad smile broke out across his face.
“Hey, Uncle Stewart. Yeah, hook me up with the usual, please. How are things?” Chay asked with a grin.
“Good, good. How are things with you?” He lifted one bushy eyebrow and his gaze darted in my direction. “Who’s your friend and why is someone so beautiful hanging around with the likes of you?” he teased.
“Uncle Stewart, this is Milayna. Milayna, this is my Uncle Stewart. He owns the place.”
“Hi.” I reached out to shake his hand.
“It’s a pleasure,” he said, turning my hand over to kiss the top. I felt a blush crawl across my face, and Chay’s uncle smiled. “Call me Uncle. Everyone does. Now, what can I get you?”
“A chocolate milkshake, please.”
“Well, now, that’s Chay’s pick, too.”
Smiling, I felt the blush grow deeper.
I watched as he mixed the milkshakes, squirting lots of whipped cream on them and plopping three cherries on top of each.
“Here we go. Two chocolate milkshakes, extra whipped cream, and three cherries, because Chay is spoiled.” Uncle grinned, and I laughed. Chay rolled his eyes. I took out my wallet to pay, and Uncle just stared at me. “Family doesn’t pay here, dearie.”
“But I’m not—”
Family? He’s an angel. But how did he know I was a demi? Do I put out an aura or a beacon? Does he have angel radar? Is that even a power?
“Yes, you are.” He winked. “Enjoy your milkshakes.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, and Uncle gave me a wave.
“Let’s sit outside.” Chay held the door open to the patio area.
We walked to the white café tables at the side of the building. They were shielded from the sun by cheery, yellow-and-white striped umbrellas. When Chay pulled my chair out for me, I decided he was really starting to freak me out. He had this whole Invasion of the Body Snatchers or The Stepford Children thing going on.
“You don’t need to pull my chair out and open doors for me.”
“Yes I do.” He sat across from me, stretching his long legs out. They brushed against mine, and I gripped the Styrofoam cup so hard that I had to force my hand to relax before I crushed it.
“It’s not like we’re dating.”
“That’s just how I was taught.”
Oh. Of course he’s doing it because that’s how he was raised. Why else?
“Your uncle is nice.” I stirred my shake with the straw.
“Yeah.”
“He’s one of us, isn’t he? An angel. That’s why he called me family,” I asked quietly.
“He’s a demi.”
“Oh. So… ” Silence stretched between us, and I fumbled for something to say to fill it. “Tell me about yourself.”
He looked at me and quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”
He’s perfected the art of one-word answers.
I shrugged one shoulder. “Just trying to start a conversation, and it seemed like the thing to ask.”
“Do you always have to talk?”
I sighed. “Never mind.” I took another drink of my shake.
“Only child. My dad’s an angel, my mom’s not.” He shrugged. “That’s about it.”
“Wow. You really have a thing about answering questions with as few words as possible.” He glanced at me, and I smiled.
“So? What about you?” he asked.
I managed to keep a straight face when I said, “Oh my gosh, you started a conversation. I should probably look for aliens. They may have probed you and pushed the words right out!”
Chay snorted a laugh, and milkshake bubbled over the rim of his paper cup. “Okay, I admit I don’t have the ability to talk nonstop like some people.” He wiped milkshake off his hands with a napkin.
“Ah, is that so? I hadn’t noticed,” I said. He smiled around his straw, and I had to hold back a sigh. “Okay, well, I have a younger brother Benjamin. My dad’s the angel. He’s a police officer, and my mom’s an accountant.”
“Yeah, I knew your dad was with the police department. So is mine. There are a lot of angels and demi-angels who are on the force. That’s why we can call the police when there’s a fight with the Evils or demi-demons and they don’t get suspicious—a lot of them are angels, too.”
“You’ve fought a lot?”
“Too much.”
We fell silent, drinking our shakes. I watched the cars drive past, counting them—anything to distract me from staring at Chay. When I glanced at him, he was staring at me.
“Good milkshake,” I said, scooping the last few drops out of the cup.
“Ready?”
“Yeah, I need to get home. Lots of chemistry homework to do.”
“He really piled it on today, that’s for sure.” He ran his hand through his hair. “If you need a study partner…”
“Sure. Um, if I get stuck, I’ll text you.”
He nodded and smiled. “Yeah. That’s what I was gonna say.”
We were quiet on the drive home. Chay broke the silence when he pulled into my driveway and slipped the gear into park. “I want to have another group meeting. Can you come over tonight?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I just want to see what the general feel of the group is about Lily,” he said “How ‘bout six?”
“Okay, I’ll see you then.” He walked around and opened the car door for me, grabbing my bag out of the backseat.
“Thanks for the milkshake.”
“Sure.” His eyes followed his movements as he slipped the strap of my messenger bag up my arm and settled it on my shoulder. When his fingertips slid over the side of my neck like a feather, I sucked in a sharp breath. His gaze shot to mine.
I wrapped my fingers around the strap of my bag. “Thanks.” I gave him a shaky smile. “I’ll see you later.” Turning, I walked up the path to my door.
***
At six o’clock, my dad drove me to Chay’s. He wouldn’t let me walk alone, and Muriel wasn’t home. He dropped me off and waited, watching me through the windshield as I climbed the porch steps and walked to the door. I pushed the doorbell, smiling when I heard the University of Michigan’s fight song start to play. Go Wolverines!
Chay lived in a beautiful home with a wraparound porch and baskets of ivy hanging over the bannisters. The front was lined with bright fall mums; their smell hung in the air. I was admiring the flowers when the door opened.
“You must be Milayna,” a man about my dad’s age said. He was tall like Chay and had the same dark hair. It was even cut the same—short on the sides and a little longer on top.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, come on.” He smiled and opened the door wider so I could pass through. He waved to my dad before closing it after me. “They’re all in Chay’s room.”
Chay’s room! Oh, no, no, no.
My heart beat a little faster. I followed hi
s dad through a large room full of overstuffed chairs and comfy-looking couches. A large flat-screen television, tuned to a classical music channel, hung on the wall.
“Chay!” his dad yelled down a hallway. When there wasn’t an answer, he looked at me and rolled his eyes. “Last door on the left.”
“Thanks.” I walked slowly down the hall. The walls were filled with family photos. I saw Chay as a baby and toddler, as a boy with his dad on fishing trips, his school portraits—the kind that always turn out horrible but parents displayed them anyway as their little way of torturing us. I stopped to look at a photo of him and his uncle at the ice cream shop when I saw a photo of our dads together. There was also a picture of them with Uncle Rory. I was looking at them when I heard a door open behind me.
“Like what you see?” he drawled. He leaned against the doorjamb, one arm stretched above his head.
“I’m amazed is all.”
“Amazed?” His eyes twinkled. They looked more blue than green just then.
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure you were capable of smiling until I saw the photographic evidence.”
“Ah.” He pursed his lips to hide a grin. “C’mon. Everyone’s in here.”
I followed Chay into his bedroom, which was actually two rooms. The wall had been knocked out and a wicked cool archway with built-in bookcases on either side was put in its place, combining the two bedrooms into one large room. On one side of the archway was his bed—somewhere deep inside my stomach a huge butterfly staged a rebellion at the sight—and dresser. On the other side was a couch, some waffle chairs, and an entertainment center with a huge television where the guys were already engrossed in a video game. Their little avatars ran around the screen, battling aliens.
I expected posters of sleek cars or rock bands. But his walls were mostly bare. Painted a silvery gray to complement his maroon bedspread and curtains, it was sophisticated. And it fit Chay perfectly.
“Nice room.”
“Thanks.” He turned and led me to the couch. “Move,” he said and knocked Steven’s foot off his knee. “Get up and let her sit there.” Steven rolled his eyes but moved to a beanbag.
I sat where Steven had been, and Chay eased himself down next to me. Leaning over me, he flicked open a door on the table next to the couch. “You want a Coke?”
“Sure.” He pulled a pop out of the little table. Sitting up, he handed it to me. “Thanks.” I bent forward and studied the table, which was actually a small refrigerator. “I so want a room like yours.” I laughed.
He smiled, slow and sexy, and my heart melted little by little. “Or you can just come visit me.” And there it went. My heart officially melted into a puddle of goo. While I was trying to recover from his comment, Chay turned toward the room.
He put his palms on his thighs and yelled to be heard over the commotion in the room. “Okay, everyone! I want to get right to the point of why we’re all here so we can get on with the pizza and fun stuff. So, who has Lily talked to?” Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Most had odd expressions on their faces. No one said anything. That was when I noticed Muriel wasn’t there.
“Come on, I know she’s talked to some of you,” Chay said with an exasperated sigh. “She’s talked to me.”
I looked at him. I wasn’t sure why, but I was angry that he didn’t tell me.
Slowly, everyone in the room raised their hand. Lily had talked with everyone there. Except me. Lily didn’t make a secret out of the fact she didn’t like me much. But her job as an Evil was to recruit demis for Azazel and from what I understood, I was at the top of his Christmas list. So I couldn’t get my mind around why she wouldn’t approach me. Unless… she planned to use the team members against me.
“Milayna?” Drew asked.
“No. She hasn’t said anything to me. I wonder why?”
“Who knows? Maybe Azazel wants to turn everyone against you and force you to choose sides,” Chay answered. “Is anyone having any trouble with her other than her talking to you?”
Everyone answered in the negative.
“What about Azazel’s team? Has anyone had any contact with them?”
Everyone raised their hand except Jen and Shayla.
“You?” I asked Chay.
“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, but I didn’t expect him to. He was stingy with his information.
“Did anyone have any problems with the goblins? Since you’re here, I’m going to assume you didn’t take them up on their offer.”
The room erupted in a flurry of “no,” “no ways,” and a few curses.
Chay smiled. “Good. Let’s have some pizza.”
“You have pizza in here, too?” I opened the door to his private refrigerator and peeked inside.
He laughed. “No, it’s in the kitchen.”
Everyone got up and raced down the hall to the kitchen. I grabbed Chay by the arm and waited until the last person left the room. “Why didn’t you tell me you talked with Lily and had a visit from the little red imps?”
“Imps?” He arched a brow and pursed his lips.
“It’s faster than hobgoblins. Just answer my questions. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I warned you, Milayna. You don’t know who you can trust.”
Ugh, you keep saying that. I got it. I got it. I wonder where Muriel is?
Four weeks, four days until my birthday.
Muriel left early that morning. She didn’t tell me beforehand that we wouldn’t be riding together, or I would’ve had Jen pick me up. Instead, I had to find my own way. Faced with riding the bus, I prayed to the car gods that my old beater would start. Thankfully, it roared to life—probably waking all the neighbors—and I drove myself to school.
“What happened this morning, Muriel?” I slipped into my seat next to her in calculus.
“I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you I had a make-up quiz to take in one of my other classes. I wanted to take it this morning, so I wouldn’t be rushed tonight for the game.”
“Where were you last night?” I clicked my pen open and shut, open and shut, open and shut.
Muriel snatched the pen out of my hand and gave it a disgusted look. “I had some errands to run for my mother.”
“Oh.” I didn’t mention that I saw her car in the driveway all night. Chay’s warning kept repeating in my head.
I saw Chay looking at us from the corner of my eye, but I ignored him. I didn’t believe Muriel, my best friend and cousin, would switch sides. It just wouldn’t happen. If she said she had other things to do, I believed her. Chay’s warning be damned.
***
It was Friday, the night of the big game between the South Bay Cougars and the North Bay Cowboys. The group was going to the game together.
Chay followed me home from school that afternoon. “I’ll pick you up tonight,” he said when we got to my house and he walked me to the door.
“That’s okay. I can ride with Muriel.”
He drummed his fingers on the car door and shook his head once. “I’ll pick you up.”
I sighed. I hated his moody, I-know-it-all-and-you’ll-do-it-my-way side. He’d been that way all day. He stalked back to his car. Revving the engine once, he backed out of the driveway and headed toward his house.
“I’m surprised he didn’t want to walk me inside,” I muttered. Then I looked up and knew why. My dad was waiting at the door. “Hey, Dad.”
“How’s it going? Everything good?” He clamped a hand on my shoulder as I walked by him into the house.
“Yeah, why?” Goose bumps ran up my arms and the hair on the back of my neck did the wave like people in a stadium watching a game.
Great. What big surprise is he gonna spring on me now? I’m not sure I can take anything else. No more demi-angel stuff. Enough is enough. And I think I’m at a full tank.
“You didn’t ride with Muriel today.” He followed me inside.
I let out the breath I was holding, my cheeks puffing out. “Oh, that. Yeah, sh
e had a quiz to make up before school. She left before me.”
“Ah.”
We walked into the kitchen, and I dropped onto a chair. He poured us two glasses of milk and rattled around in the pantry until he found my mom’s hidden Oreo cookies.
“Ooh, living on the wild side, huh? Dipping into mom’s private stash of cookies. Dangerous.” I grabbed a cookie and dunked it in my milk. “Mm, yum. Hey, Dad? How do you know Chay’s dad?” I asked around another bite of milk-soaked Oreo.
“Hmm?” He was focused on twisting apart his cookies and scraping out the frosting centers.
“I saw a photo of you and him at Chay’s house last night. You’ve never mentioned you two knew each other. There was one of you and him with Uncle Rory, too.”
“Oh, hmm, I didn’t know he kept those old things after he moved.” He shook his head and chuckled. “We used to work the same beat in the department years ago. Lots of good memories.” He stared off in space for a few seconds before he pulled his attention back to the present and smiled at me.
“He moved?”
“Mm-hmm.” My dad sat his glass of milk down and wiped his mouth. “After Chay reached the age of accountability, his dad took a job with another department. But there weren’t many demi-angels in that area. So they moved back as soon as a position opened here.” My dad stuffed his mouth with another Oreo and talked around it. “That’s how I initially met Chay’s dad. Uncle Rory and I teamed up with him to make sure the three of you were safe before you reached the age of accountability.”
“Is that why everyone lives so close together? Because you teamed up to protect us when we were kids?”
“Yeah, and because demi-angels don’t just draw physical strength from each other, but also mental strength and comfort. Haven’t you felt a difference when you are with other demis?”
I tipped my head to the side and thought about his question. “Yeah. I didn’t think about it until now, but yeah. I feel calmer, more at peace. I have a sense of belonging. Not to just the group, but to something bigger. It’s hard to explain.”
“Demis naturally gravitate to each other. It isn’t a conscious decision—it just kinda happens. Our group found each other to keep you kids safe. Now you’re able to fend for yourselves for the most part. It’s time we step back and let you make your own decisions.”