Beloved Purgatory (Fallen Angels, Book 2) (5 page)

Chapter 3

I turned off the sink and glanced at my face
in the mirror. Beads of water slid down my cheeks and neck, turning
the blue collar of my dressiest shirt black. It looked like I was
crying--well, either that or I was a baggy-eyed monster that had
crawled out of the drain. I shivered. The thought of anything
creeping up the pipes in this greasy, old bathroom was just too
depressing. Hell, even just the thought of anyone hanging out in
here was.

So what are you doing here, then?

Silence, except my uneven breath and the
drip, drip, drip
of the faucet that had leaked since my
freshman year.

I pushed myself away from the double sinks.
"I'm going in now," I said.

"Alright."

I looked in the mirror once more. I couldn't
see his reflection and made no sound, but I knew he was there.
Watching.

Suddenly, my grand idea of hiding in the
bathroom instead of walking into the principal's office with my mom
and Jasmine didn't seem so grand. I'd have to go in alone, now, and
everyone would be looking at me.

"I thought you were leaving," the angel
said.

Why did his voice sound so calculating? He
seemed worried. More likely he just didn't want to witness a
breakdown.

"Right," I muttered. My words came out a
little harsher than I'd intended. So to make myself feel better I
kicked open the bathroom door.

I got halfway down the hall before hearing
his annoying voice again. "You shouldn't go in there like
that."

I shivered. It was creepy how he could move
right next to me without making a sound. "Like what?" I answered,
past caring how childish I sounded.

"Like you're about to cry."

"I'm not going to cry." I refused to look at
him, even when he brushed his thumbs underneath my eyes. His skin
was too soft--like feathers, almost.

"You're lonely, aren't you?" He whispered
though we were alone and, even if we weren't, no one else would've
been able to hear him. "Why then did you make the others go in
ahead of you? Why don't you talk to anyone--"

"Why do you care?" It came out shriller than
I'd intended.

He stepped back. I really couldn't look at
him now. I didn't want to see his hurt face. But no, angels
couldn't get hurt by something like me, because they didn't care
about anything on this earth.

I walked faster. "Sometimes I forget that you
don't feel anything, and I start treating you like you do. It's
kind of pathetic, isn't it?"

The angel caught my wrist. "Is that really
what you think of me?"

My heartbeat throbbed in my throat. It felt
like it would bruise if I spoke. How could an ethereal being make
me ache like this?

"What am I supposed to think of you?" I was
out of breath. My body itched, wanting to rush forward, but he
still gripped me.

It wasn't tight. I could slip out of it if I
wanted. But for some reason I couldn't move. "You follow me
everywhere," I whispered. "You've watched me for my entire life,
but you've never comforted me when I was sad or hurt. I don't
understand you. I hope I never do."

He let go. I rubbed my wrist. It felt warm.
I'd forgotten how cold his hands were.

Then I continued to the principal's office.
He didn't say anything more until we got to the door. "Are you sure
you don't want me to come with you?"

Was he really surprised?
Really?
My
hand clutched the doorknob, but I didn't turn it. "Yes."

I think he sighed. "I'll be here if you need
me."

What did he expect me to do--bust down the
door and call out his name in the middle of the meeting? The
thought was so ridiculous and, because of that, so like him. I
tipped down my chin to hide my smile, even though he couldn't see
it.

"I'll remember," I said, and
pushed on the door.

It swung open, right into the edge of James'
mom's chair. Her thin, red-painted lips slanted into a tight smile,
and she raised her left hand to pat my shoulder. "It's alright,"
she said.

I rubbed my hands against my jeans. Alright,
she seemed pretty understanding. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Then I looked past her smiling face and saw
a 6'3" man glaring at me as if I were a gigantic wad of moist
bubblegum on the sole of his shoe.

Never mind,
I thought,
this is
Hell
.

The principal's office
looked like a set from a low-budget, early 90's High School flick.
It had windows on one side of the room looking out at the parking
lot, and on the other two shelves containing all the books he'd
been assigned in college. The principal himself looked like a
blanched Wallace Shawn,
and sat in a
comically large leather chair in front of a wall of university
certificates and achievement awards.

I sidestepped to the seat between Kim and
Jasmine. The room was too narrow for this many people, so the
chairs had been lined up against the walls. The set-up reminded me
of an overly chaperoned Jr. High dance--boys on one side, girls on
the other, both groups giggling as they waited for someone to make
the first move.

Only we weren't giggling.

The principal leaned back. "I suppose you
know why you're here."

"They know," James' dad cut in.

Us 'ladies' didn't answer. The principal
cleared his throat. "I received a call two days ago informing me
James' car had been vandalized. Such behavior is unacceptable." His
eyes narrowed in on Kim's slumped form. "I never would have
expected it from you."

Kim kicked her left heel
against the floor, then tucked it under her seat. I couldn't move
my eyes from the space her foot had occupied.
Kim shouldn't be here
, I thought as I
dug my fingernails into the palm of my hand.
Why did I let her go along with it? Why did I suggest bringing
along Siracha? And why did we use pads with wings?

I bit my lip. At this point it probably
didn't matter whether or not we'd used wings.

"Is there anything the three of you wish to
say?" The principal asked.

The muscles between my shoulder blades
tightened. Why were we here? People played pranks on each other all
the time--especially people on the football team. This hadn't even
happened on school property, so instead of the principal they
should have called the cops.

Okay, maybe it was better that they'd gotten
the school rather than the police involved.

Well, it was probably because James' father
was a generous donor and his son was the Quarterback. I don't know.
Truthfully, it was a little hard to focus on my anger on the boy.
James had a Yankee baseball cap pulled over his face and refused to
look away from the floor. I think he knew he was going to be called
'Pad Boy' for the rest of his life.

The door squeaked as it
swung open.
Forneus
. "I apologize for my tardiness."

Every hair stood on end as that seductive
drawl crept across my skin. The devil leaned in the doorway with
his arms folded across his chest. Dressed to the nines in the most
expensive suit I'd ever seen in my life, he looked more like the
leading man from an old time movie. He had the intelligent clip of
Cary Grant's speech. Jimmy Stewart's boyish, saccharine smile.
Humphrey Bogart's...

Alright, he didn't look
anything like Humphrey Bogart. Come to think of it, he wasn't even
as charming as Jimmy Stewart--he, at least, wouldn't have
considered opening the door without flashing a smile and
saying:
Sorry
I'm
late.

But this particular devil wasn't sorry, so
he merely apologized.

I wasn't impressed. Surely, the other women
in the room would also think--

I glanced over at Kim's suddenly very pouty,
very red lips. Her eyes were glassy, as if she were watching
Heaven's pearly gates open in front of her. And her mother had the
same expression on her face, only she was also drooling.

I held my nauseous stomach. Straight across
from me, James' mom flexed her feet, crossed her legs, and began to
squirm, rocking her hips as her ankles twisted and...

Gross!

"Mom," James whined, lips drawn back in
horror. She took a deep breath, nodded, and continued doing what
she'd been doing. My eyebrows scrunched together. Poor James. I
wouldn't be able to take it if my mother started wiggling in her
chair. At least she--

Oh no. Oh dear God no.

My mom was making doe eyes at him, and she'd
unconsciously unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse--or at
least I hoped she'd done so unconsciously.

"Oh, there is an empty seat by me," mom
stammered breathlessly. She shot up from her seat, almost knocking
over her chair.

"I'm sorry," she murmured as she raised her
hand to her neck and clutched her cross.

Yes, mom. Touch it. Thrust it in his face
and make him burst into flames. Think of God, not whatever
disgusting things you're thinking of right now.

"That's a lovely cross." Forneus ran his
fingers down the silver chain until they rested on top of hers. The
world fell silent, except a distinct ringing echoing in my ears.
Forneus looked over his shoulder, at me, and smiled.

"Oh, it's old," my mother giggled.

"It's an
antique
," Forneus corrected. Then,
still looking at me, he leaned closer and murmured in her ear:
"Keep it close."

Jasmine put her hand on my thigh. "He's just
playing, Devi. Don't let him get to you."

I grit my teeth. I wanted to take my chair
and hurl it at his face so everyone could see what that purple
freak really looked like.

Instead, I gripped Jasmine's hand and tried
to breathe steadily as Forneus and my mother set their chairs up
next to each other. I wasn't the only one in the room having a
difficult time with it, either. Every woman (with the exception of
Jasmine, of course), sneered at her.

But none of their pointed glances were as
frightening as my death stare.

Forneus winked. Did he think pissing me off
was funny?

"Now, Mr. Lowell is it?" Forneus began.
"Please recount the crime those little girls committed."

Principal Lowell nodded, his chin retreating
into the flappy folds of his neck like a bull frog. "They
vandalized the boy's car."

Forneus wet his lips. "What, exactly, did
they do to the car?"

James dad snorted. "Ask your little brat
what happened."

"My little brat," Forneus repeated tenderly,
as if it were an endearment. "I hope it was worth it, sweetheart. I
had to get out of bed a full five hours early--not that you care."
He returned his attention to the principal. "Go on."

Mr. Lowell coughed. "They pasted feminine
products on the car."

Forneus' eyebrows scrunched up. "Feminine
products?"

My mom coughed, then brought the corner of
her jacket up to her mouth. She swallowed, chocked on air, and
coughed again. "Sorr--" She couldn't finish.

Then, to my horror, I realized why. She was
snickering.

And, for some reason, I thought that was the
most hilarious thing ever.

My eyes started to water. I
bit the inside of my cheeks.
Don't. Don't.
This is serious, Devi. Seriously serious. Seriously...

I couldn't stop. I rested my eyes on my
fists, started to count to ten, then realized how funny the number
four was.

Above my gasping, I heard Forneus' voice. "I
see," he said, completely ignoring my mother and me. "And what is
the punishment for such an offense?"

Kim tapped my thigh.

I glanced up, but she wasn't
looking at me. Her eyes were focused straight ahead. All the color
had left her skin, and her full, perfect lips were chapped.
No
, I realized,
they weren't chapped. They were rough and stringy
because she'd chewed on them--she was chewing on them
still.

I sat on my hands to keep myself from
reaching for her.

I had to act dignified. This was her future
on the line. She couldn't afford a black mark on her record. I
straightened my back, took a deep breath, and looked forward,
straight into James' dad's eyes.

A vein in the middle of his
head pulsated as if dancing to the beat of the
Numa Numa
song. His cheeks were red.
The look he gave me made it excruciatingly clear he wanted to kick
over his chair, leap across the narrow passage between us, and
strangle me.

And that made me laugh harder.

Stop, stop,
stop
, I repeated. But each time I said the
word, I'd start giggling again. What was wrong with me?

I felt something on my shoulder--a soothing
touch to my right.

I glanced up with bleary
vision. Even then, staring at Jasmine's beautiful face, I couldn't
stop the giggles from cascading through me.
Sorry
, I mouthed. She shook her head
and smiled. "That's my line," she whispered.

Jasmine cleared her throat and stood. "I
need to say something before this goes any further." Her musical,
clear voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "I
was the one who padded James' car, and I acted alone."

Then she ran to Forneus and hugged his arm.
"I'm sorry, dear uncle, but he deserved it."

"Enough!" James' father erupted. "We already
know that Kim girl was involved. She admitted it."

"No." Jasmine's voice shook. "She was just
trying to protect me because I've never gone to school before. I
don't know how to act around other people. I just wanted to
help."

James dad looked to the principal. "Are you
buying this? How did she know where my son's house was? That his
car would be outside?"