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Authors: Jennifer Murgia

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BOOK: Angel Star
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“She thinks she’s perfect,” Claire continued, her tone building gradually in my ears as if the volume had been muted and was now slowly rejoining reality.

Shivering, I grabbed my books and took a deep breath, feeling my head automatically nod in agreement.

“It’s a sign of insecurity. She has her claws in deep now. She knows what pushes your buttons. Besides, you know it only makes her feel more superior when she can make someone else feel like crap.”

I eyed my best friend as if she had just transferred from the moon.

“Claire, didn’t you see?” I turned to face where the dark figure had appeared only moments ago.

“Oh, yeah, I see. And he’s looking fine.”

Forget it. I had lost her.

Ryan Jameson yanked his leather Columbia bag a little higher onto his broad shoulders and stopped in front of us just as the first bell sounded in the hallway.

“Teagan.” He nodded, regarding me.

I smiled back, trying not to notice how quickly and comfortably Claire’s hand slipped into his.

“Maybe you should go to the nurse. You look kind of pale.” Claire’s eyebrows scrunched up in concern. “See you at lunch, Tea.”

I watched her wave as she walked away with her new boyfriend and I slammed my locker shut, feeling the echo reverberate through my pounding head. Gearing myself up for class, I began the boring walk toward the gymnasium, passing lockers and a few obnoxious football players, but my eyes were pulled toward the far end of the hallway, still trying to make sense out of the unreal. Could it just be that I was still suffering from a horrible morning and my mind was playing tricks on me? My nightmare seemed to be lingering, crossing the median into reality and following me into school. Maybe Claire was right. Maybe I needed a boyfriend—or the nurse for that matter—someone to help me keep my mind off my insane life.

Making a split-second decision to skip both the nurse and gym, I purposely wandered out to the courtyard for some fresh air. I dropped my backpack to the ground and slumped down onto a concrete bench. The morning was beautiful, despite the fact that I could still see my breath, but the crisp air was clearing my head, allowing me to see and think more rationally. I stared at the landscaping, the trees, the sidewalk leading to the south stairwell. It was all trimmed and clean and didn’t hide any creepy little niches from which a dark-winged creature could suddenly lunge.

I marveled at the pink buds emerging from the recently skeletal branches above me. Even the sky was a perfect, cloudless blue, the kind you see on postcards or commercials; and, yes, it was supposed to make me feel all peppy and cheerful but it just wasn’t happening. Cradling my face in my hands, I closed my eyes because somehow the pounding in my head just wasn’t going away.

Although muted, a voice managed to penetrate the throbbing. “Are you okay?”

I hadn’t heard anyone enter the courtyard, not a single footstep, making his voice seem as if it came from out of nowhere. I must have jumped or shrieked because the look on his face mirrored the uncertain pounding I was now feeling in my chest.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I cleared my throat. “No, not at all. I mean, I’m okay.” Looking up, I found myself staring into an unfamiliar face. The most beautiful face I had ever seen.

The tall boy stood in front of me, his features soft, yet chiseled, and I couldn’t help but notice the way the sunlight played with his sandy hair. The way it curled loosely around his face, capturing the specks of light that fell onto us from between the branches. But…his eyes. They were the warmest, most endless aqua—and inhumanly hypnotic. Suddenly, I couldn’t recall any sort of discomfort in my head, just a soothing warmth flowing within me, and the panic of the morning—the taunting, the winged mirage in the hall—simply melted away at the sight of him.

“I’m Garreth.”

I sat like an idiot, staring at his hand, which was extended toward me. To my embarrassment, I couldn’t speak. I tried desperately to find my voice but I was entranced. I had to speak soon or he would assume I was socially dysfunctional and at this particular moment that was a fate worse than death.

“Teagan,” I replied, at last finding my voice. I took his hand.

It was so warm I didn’t want to give it back. He smiled at me and I felt my cheeks redden. I guess I held it a little too long. He was staring at me and I quickly looked away, feeling panic rise in my chest. But it was a good panic. The nice kind.

Garreth unfolded a thin piece of paper that I recognized as a student schedule. His brow furrowed before he looked at me again.

“Would you happen to know how to get to room 303?” he asked with a smile.

“Mythology’s actually my next class too. I’ll show you if you want.”

My hands were clammy as I reached down for my bag, which he politely picked up and handed to me. I stood up slowly to avoid any unwanted dizziness and was surprised to find I felt perfectly stable, despite the odd stammering sensation in my heart.

“Thanks.”

I took my bag, feeling a trifle inferior now that I was standing. He easily stood six feet tall. I would have pegged him for a senior, not a junior, like me; and, feeling like a child next to him, I silently cursed my petite frame.

“Did you just move here?” I asked.

Surely I would have seen him around town if he had just transferred from another local school. Hopewell has three: Carver High, Hopewell Vo-Tech, and Saint Andrew’s. Hopewell isn’t very big. Just a quiet little town with quaint Victorian and Colonial houses, located in western New Jersey. It was peaceful most of the time, and when the school kids got bored, they would either head down to New Hope or up toward Princeton to escape.

“I came over from Saint Andrew’s.”

Garreth eased into the conversation, his golden voice gently melting into the air around us as if it were cotton candy, and I found myself stealing glances at him as we made our trek to the third level stairwell.

“Hmmm.” I nodded, attentive to every word he uttered while wondering how I had never noticed him before, not even when Carver’s football team played against St. Andrew’s in the playoffs.

Everyone
was at that game.

We talked casually during the time it took to reach mythology, catching the curious stares of onlookers as we passed by. Amazingly, Garreth appeared oblivious to everything around us. I briefed him on the mundane benefits of going to Carver High and was absolutely clueless as to why he wanted to come here in the first place. It may have been my imagination but he seemed to hang on every word I said, and I had the oddest sensation of floating on air.

“Well, here we are.” I spoke quietly, trying not to appear overly disappointed that the walk to class hadn’t taken longer. “Mr. Barry’s pretty cool, you’ll like him. As long as you’re good at distinguishing Greek from Roman, and don’t snore during
Jason and the Argonauts
, you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Teagan.” He smiled as if he meant it, then turned to hand a note to Mr. Barry.

I smiled back meekly and unwillingly turned to find my seat in the second row. I couldn’t help but notice the other girls gawk and whisper as Garreth took his seat at the back of the room. I felt the skin on my arms tingle protectively, as if the last few minutes had allowed me to lay some sort of claim on him. A few of the girls, the snobby elite that were part of Brynn’s group, shot cool glances in my direction, but for once I ignored them. My thoughts lingered on the conversation I had just shared, and when I turned to look at Garreth once more, I was filled with delight to find his eyes staring intently and deeply into my own.

Chapter Two

T
he rest of my day passed by in a blurry, dreamlike state. Wherever I was required to be on campus, sure enough, Garreth was somewhere nearby. I sought him out easily enough, as though a radar-detection system had been installed in me, and though his presence was most likely coincidental, more often than not I spent the remainder of the day feeling pleasantly flustered. I, like any other seventeen-year-old girl, had already mastered the art of wishful thinking, but I could have sworn he was staring at me, and whenever I was brave enough to meet that stare, he smiled a delicious smile and I felt giddy and stupid. Even Claire noticed at lunch.

“Did the nurse give you some expired Ibuprofen or something illegal?” She inspected me suspiciously.

“Yeah,” was all I could muster.

Claire emptied the contents of her orange lunch bag. As usual, it was filled with junk. “There’s a buzz going around school.” She spoke in a hushed tone, as though it were a giant secret about to get away.

“Hmm?” I was daydreaming, scanning the cafeteria in hopes of spying sandy curls at one of the tables, but Garreth was nowhere to be found. Which I found disappointing. Then I reminded myself, what if I did see him and he was sitting with a beautiful, bubbly cheerleader?

“Well, aren’t you even interested?”

I sighed and stopped looking.

“Two words. Garreth Adams.”

“We’ve already met.” I squeezed the words out from under my breath.

Claire’s head shot up.

“We have mythology together.”

“Uh-huh?” Claire stared at me, prompting me to continue with a wave of her hands.

“What?”

I stared back. I knew what was coming. I was withholding valuable information and she knew it, but I liked playing her game. It was fun making her wait it out. She was practically bouncing out of her seat. It didn’t surprise me that the entire school was probably spreading the word about my side job as tour guide today. God only knows what Claire heard.

“From what I hear, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You are so lucky!” Claire was practically bubbling over. “See, I said you needed a boyfriend. Who knew I would become an intellectual
and
a clairvoyant all in the same day?”

I shoved the last bite of my peanut butter sandwich into my mouth and stared across the table at the monster I had created.

Claire was looking quite pleased with herself and it was almost cruel of me to open my mouth and spoil all her fun with this, but I just had to. I used the best diplomatic tone I could drum up.

“Okay, he’s nice, but don’t read into this like you always do. And don’t get any ideas about crystal balls and wearing funky, beaded scarves on your head or anything. He was just appreciative that I helped him out. No big deal. Besides, he’s the spitting image of a god, or at least a model, and I’m just…well…I’m me.” I finished the last of my Cheetos and chugged the rest of my bottled water. There, enough said.

“Mm-hmm.” Claire eyed me over the Devil Dog she was devouring. She reached across and grabbed my hand, opening my palm before her. “Like I thought. It says, ‘I have a crush on Garreth Adams.’ It says so in your sweaty little palm.”

“Does not!” I stood up to drop my bag into the garbage can, turning my back on her.

“Does too! Perspiration doesn’t lie!” she yelled after me.

Thank God lunch period was over. Like a magnet in constant motion, I found myself shifting closer, inching my way toward Garreth, no matter where he was. He could be down the hall and my feet would automatically begin to pull me in that direction, whether I needed to be at that end of the school or not. Regardless, I needed to be near him. I
had
to be near him, which sounded romantic, I suppose. Or crazy. Because, in reality, it was just plain insane of me to feel this way. Before today I had never set eyes on Garreth Adams and I already knew…already believed…he was going to be an important part of my life.

At least I hoped.

Not only did Garreth happen to be in mythology, but three of my other classes as well.

In chemistry I tried to pretend he wasn’t in the same room. Yeah, right. Like that was easy. It was clear to everyone that Garreth Adams’ brain retained information no one else seemed capable of understanding. The poor guy quickly became Mr. Quinn’s prize student, reluctantly answering for everyone the entire period. I copied my notes diligently into my notebook, forcing him out of my head with each scratch of my pencil, but I couldn’t take it anymore. Twisting ever so slightly in my seat, I pretended to look at the bulletin board at the back of the class, and sure enough, those blue eyes were waiting for me. I turned back around, ignoring his smile but feeling my bones go soft as his presence took effect and weakened my insides to a liquid state. At the same moment, Mr. Quinn breezed past my lab table, passing out lab glasses, and the pair he was handing me smacked me in the face.

“Oops.”

“A little extra credit going on back here? Keep your eyes to the front, Miss McNeel.”

Brynn snickered at the table diagonal from mine and I knew I had given her solid ammunition against me. Right now, I could only reluctantly pray that Garreth would transfer to an AP chem class, because it was highly unlikely that I would be lucky enough to spontaneously combust, putting an end to my misery.

The bell rang and we all shuffled for the door—and sure enough…

“Setting your sights kind of high, aren’t you? New boy’s got the pick of the crop here, so don’t get all starry-eyed,
Freak
,” Brynn hissed as she jabbed me with the corner of her textbook.

As usual, I didn’t give her an answer. She didn’t deserve one.

Study hall, American history, and English literature came and went and at last the day was over. Claire had accepted a ride home with Ryan. She didn’t seem too concerned about leaving her car unattended in the school parking lot. More importantly, she didn’t seem too concerned about leaving
me
unattended in the parking lot either. So now my perfect day came to a screeching halt as I prepared to ride the big yellow bus of doom. I made my way across the macadam toward the noxious fumes of the yellow convoy, feeling deflated.

I pulled up the sleeve of my purple T-shirt, and sure enough, a nice black-and-blue mark was developing, thanks to Brynn’s dire need to inflict pain whenever necessary. My lips set in a tight line as I yanked down my sleeve.

My eyes followed the flow of students to their buses, to their cars. The afternoon had proven to be beautiful after all and the sun was shining down gloriously. That is, until I spotted Brynn and her friends a few yards away. As usual, Miss Wonderful was smiling. What didn’t she have to be happy about? She had the power to ruin everyone else’s life. But hers? Hers was just dandy. She appeared to be flirting and I rolled my eyes. Of course
all
the boys thought she was incredible. She was leaning over, practically falling into the open window of a gray Jeep where she was most likely spilling an obscene amount of cleavage. And then, as Sage Fisher and Emily Lawrence shifted places, I realized whose window she was spilling her cleavage into. It was Garreth’s.

BOOK: Angel Star
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