“So you were paying attention at Sunday school,” I said jokingly. “His name actually means ‘light giver.’ In the Kingdom, he used to be Our Father’s favorite. He was created to be elite in beauty and intelligence. He was consulted in times of trouble, and all the other angels held him in the highest esteem.”
“But he wasn’t satisfied,” Xavier added.
“No,” I said. “He became arrogant. He resented human beings, couldn’t understand why Our Father thought they were His greatest creation. He believed that only angels should be exalted, and started to think he could overthrow God.”
“And that’s when he was booted out.”
“Yes. Our Father heard his thoughts and cast him out, along with his followers. Lucifer got his wish and became Our Father’s counterpart, ruler of the Underworld, and all the other fallen angels became demons.”
“Do you know anything about what it’s like down there?” Xavier asked.
I shook my head.
“I don’t, but Gabriel does. He knew Lucifer. They were brothers — all the archangels were. But he never talks about it.”
The conversation was cut short when Gabriel and Ivy poked their heads through the curtain to see how the patient was doing.
“Are you serious?” Molly looked horrified. “I thought they were just taking him to a hospital as a precaution. He actually has a concussion? This is a disaster! You’re going to be dateless for the prom!”
I was starting to regret having said anything. Her reaction wasn’t doing anything to lift my spirits. The prom was supposed to be a magical night spent with Xavier that I would remember always. Now it was ruined.
“I don’t want to go at all,” I said. “I’m only going because Xavier wants me to.”
She sighed. “That is so sweet of him.”
“I know and that’s why I don’t care about being dateless.”
“We’ll think of something,” Molly said reassuringly. “There must be someone who can step in at the last minute. Let me think about it.”
I knew what she was thinking. She was imagining the start of the prom, when couples would make their entrance together and have their photos professionally taken. Turning up alone would be tantamount to social suicide.
As it turned out, Molly needn’t have bothered trying to find a solution as one presented itself that very afternoon.
I was sitting with Jake Thorn in our usual place at the back of the literature classroom. He was scribbling in his journal in silence as I struggled to focus on the final verse of our joint poem.
“You know this is quite difficult seeing as you’ve written it from a male perspective,” I complained.
“My sincerest apologies,” Jake replied with his usual exaggerated manners. “But feel free to take some creative license. The first verse may be from a man to a woman, but the next could easily be the reverse. Don’t take forever about it, Beth. I’m over this assignment. Let’s get it done so we can talk about more interesting things.”
“I can’t be rushed,” I said brusquely. “I don’t know about you, but I want to do well on this.”
“Why? It’s not like you need the grades.”
“Excuse me? Why wouldn’t I?”
“Doing well is pretty much a given — Miss Castle likes me.” He smirked, and went back to writing in his notebook. I didn’t ask what he was writing, and he didn’t offer to divulge anything.
Jake’s suggestion had freed my imagination, and it was a lot easier to come up with the next lines now that I could write them about Xavier. All I had to do was picture his face and the words flowed as though my pen had a life of its own. In fact, the four-line stanza I had been allocated hardly seemed enough. I felt as if I could fill every notebook in the world with my thoughts about him. I could devote pages to describing his voice, his touch, his smell, and every other detail of his person. And so before I knew it, my fluid script sat beneath Jake’s swirling calligraphy. It now read,
“That works,” Jake said. “There may be a poet in you after all.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “What have you been so busy working on?”
“Jottings… observations,” he answered.
“What have you observed so far?”
“Just that people are so gullible and so predictable.”
“Do you hold that against them?”
“I think it’s pathetic.” He sounded so bitter that I shrank away from him. “They’re so easy to figure out,” he continued. “It’s not even challenging.”
“People don’t exist for your recreation,” I protested. “They’re not a hobby.”
“They are for me. Most are an open book… except for you. You puzzle me.”
“Me?” I feigned a laugh. “There’s nothing puzzling about me. I’m just like everyone else.”
“Not quite.” There was Jake being cryptic again. It was getting unsettling.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, but I had to turn my face away so he wouldn’t see the color spreading across my cheeks.
“If you say so.” He let the subject drop just as Alicia and Alexandra timidly approached our desk and waited for Jake to acknowledge them.
“Yes?” he snapped, when he realized they weren’t going to go away. I’d never heard him use such a cutting tone before.
“Are we getting together tonight?” Alicia whispered.
Jake glared at her in exasperation. “Didn’t you get my message?”
“Yes.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“No problem,” she said, looking mortified.
“Then I’ll see you both later,” he said smoothly.
The girls exchanged covert smiles before returning to their seats. Jake shrugged his shoulders in response to my puzzled look as if to say that he was as mystified by their attention as I was.
“Looking forward to Friday?” he asked, changing the subject. “I hear that due to a little sporting mishap you no longer have a partner. It’s a terrible shame pretty boy won’t be able to make it.” His dark eyes shone and his lip curled in a snarl.
“News sure travels fast around here,” I said in a flat voice, choosing to ignore his jibe. Now that I was dreading rather than anticipating prom night, I didn’t welcome the reminder. “Who are you taking?” I asked out of politeness.
“I, too, am flying solo.”
“Why? What about your fan club?”
“Fans are only acceptable in small doses.”
I unconsciously let out a deep sigh. “Life’s not very fair, is it?” I was trying my hardest to put a positive spin on things, but it just didn’t seem to be working.
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Jake said. “I know one would hope to attend such a function on the arm of a beloved, but sometimes one just has to be practical, especially when said beloved is otherwise engaged.”
His exaggerated speech succeeded in making me smile.
“That’s better,” he said. “Gloom just doesn’t suit you.” He straightened in his chair. “Bethany, I know I’m not your first choice, but would you allow me the honor of accompanying you to the prom to help you out of your current predicament?”
It might have been a genuine gesture, but I didn’t feel comfortable accepting.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “Thanks for offering, but I’d have to discuss it with Xavier first.”
Jake nodded. “Of course. Just know that the offer is on the table should you care to accept it.”
When I broached the subject with Xavier, he didn’t hesitate: “Of course you should go with someone else.”
Xavier was leaning back on the couch, facing the TV. I could tell he was bored — for someone used to being so active, daytime television was a poor substitute. He wore a gray sweatshirt, and his ankle was propped up on a pillow. He looked restless and kept shifting positions. He didn’t complain, but I knew his head was still pounding from the impact of the collision. “It’s a dance,” he continued with a reassuring smile. “You’re going to need a partner seeing as I’m useless to you.”