Michael wasn’t at school, and his absence made me irrationally suspicious. My night had been filled with crazy jealous dreams of him sleeping with every girl in school but me—even Elaine—as if I meant nothing to him. Though they were only dreams, they reminded me that I would never be able to be close to him that way. The way all my friends could be with their boyfriends. The fact that Michael and I were destined to be only friends ate at me like acid in my veins.
When I got home after school, Mom was just getting up, having spent a few days changing her sleep patterns to prepare for the overnight shift. I made us chicken curry for dinner—which I’d been craving lately—and we ate together in the dining room instead of our usual spot in front of the TV.
“Mia, I think we need to talk,” she said after we’d finished eating.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Conversations with Mom that started with We need to talk usually sucked. The next line was usually something like Your father and I are going to live apart for a while or We’re moving to Seattle.
“You know you have the house to yourself tonight,” she said. When I nodded, waiting for the bomb to drop, she continued, “I’ve noticed that you and Michael have been spending a lot of time together. I remember being your age—”
“Mom!”
“Mia,” she said back. “I can see that you really like this boy. But I don’t want you to rush into anything just because the opportunity may present itself.”
“Mom, it’s not like that.” I squirmed, unable to believe I was having this conversation, that she was using the we need to talk code for my non-existent sex life. After everything I’d been through with Michael over Chloe, this had to be some kind of cruel joke. I didn’t even know when I’d see him again outside of school.
“Okay. I don’t want to have to make rules about when he can come over. Can I rely on you to be sensible about it? Make sure he goes home at a decent hour if he visits?”
“Yes, Mom, I’ll be sensible.” And if I wasn’t, he’d only run away again.
“I’ve seen too many teenage pregnancies in my line of work.”
“We’re just friends. Really.”
“Oh,” she said, and for a moment I thought she’d have the good sense to stop but I was wrong. “Well, if that changes, you remember our talks about this? You’ll make sure to stay protected?”
God, would this conversation never end? “Yes. If it does—which it won’t—I will.” She had only told me about a hundred times since I turned twelve, for all the good it would do now.
And then, finally, she decided it was time to leave. Having not heard from Michael all day, I prepared myself for a long, boring night with my textbooks. Unable to decide whether to do my Latin or Gov/Econ reading first, I curled up on the sofa with both of them. I had just finished reading a chapter when the doorbell rang.
Jumpier than I expected, I checked who it was through the kitchen window, and when I realized it was Michael I rushed to the door. Still embarrassed about my outburst the day before, I greeted him nervously and invited him in.
“Are you busy?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Just homework. Why? Do you have the night off or something?”
“I never technically have a night off, but I’m only on call tonight.”
Never had a night off? God must be one hell of an employer!
He made his way toward the kitchen area and leaned against the counter. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah. My mom’s working the night shift.”
“She works them a lot?” he asked.
I leaned on the counter beside him. “She has to support us.”
“Do you ever get lonely?” Folding his arms across his chest, he looked down at me, his eyes hooded and soft. In that moment, I couldn’t tell if he was asking because he was curious or if it was part of his job as an angel.
Either way, I didn’t want to answer. The truth would make me sound needy, and Heather said guys hated that. I was pretty sure my dad did.
I shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
He didn’t press the subject. “Well, there’s something I want to show you tonight.” He scanned my outfit thoughtfully. “Though you’ll need to dress more warmly than that.”
My cheeks pinked from his appraisal. “What exactly am I dressing for?”
“We’ll be outside—near the water.”
I went back to my room to change. Out my window, the sky had cleared and a ring of blue light circled the almost-full moon. Thinking a moonlit walk on the beach would be nice, I put on a few extra layers, trying to make sure everything matched and didn’t look bulky.
Michael was sitting on the kitchen counter reading the paper. When I came out, he looked up. “Much better. I don’t want you getting cold.”
“What about you?” I asked, noting he wore only jeans and a sweatshirt, whereas I was in layers of polar fleece.
He slid off the counter in such as way as to make even that look graceful. “I’ll be warm enough, trust me.”
He removed his sweatshirt and tied it around his waist. Underneath, he wore a white tank with a t-shaped back that showed off the muscles in his arms and shoulders. Golden light sparkled and flickered between his shoulder blades.
He opened the door and held it for me, waiting. “Ready?”
“For?”
“I’m taking you flying.”
“Flying? Wait. Flying flying? You don’t mean in a plane, do you?”
“No.” His smile grew brighter and fuller as he watched my realization that he would be flying me sink in. “Do you want to?” When I hesitated before nodding, he asked, “Are you scared?”
“Yeah. A bit.” Actually I was scared a lot, but the idea of seeing his wings more than made up for it.
“You’ll be safe. I promise,” he said, closing the door behind me.
When I stepped out onto the front yard, he scooped me up into his arms as though I were weightless, like that day I’d injured my ankle in the woods. Marveling at the strength it must take to do that, I swallowed a girlish squeak.
“Ready?” he asked.
As soon as I nodded my answer, he bent his legs and leapt into the air, taking me with him. Uneasiness stirred in the pit of my stomach. I fought the urge to scream as the ground disappeared beneath us, the houses and lights shrinking at a dizzying rate.
“Relax. You’re safe,” Michael said. “Breathe.”
I was so fixated on the ground speeding away from us that every muscle in my body tensed. I forgot I’d been holding my breath and gasped for air. Although Michael’s arms were strong and solid beneath me, I needed something to hold on to, so I linked my arms around his shoulders. Even in the cold air, his skin was warm to the touch.
And that was when I saw his wings. In the past, I’d only seen a faint blue outline around him or blue gossamer around Arielle. Nothing, not even my dreams or memories, prepared me for how his wings really looked. They were huge, not white exactly, more iridescent, with a featherlike covering that reflected all the rainbow colors, even in the dark. They weren’t actual feathers, not the kind you’d see on a bird; they were filaments of solid light. Joining at his back, they stretched out at least ten feet on either side from base to tip. Beating powerfully behind us, they made a sound in the air like wind hitting silk sails.
“Can people see us?” I asked. The wind rushed my ears and I had to speak loudly even to hear myself.
Grinning, he shook his head. “Don’t want to set off Homeland Security.” For the first time, I noticed that his halo had enveloped both of us. It shimmered and rippled, a mirror reflecting the night sky. We were invisible.