Beloved Purgatory (Fallen Angels, Book 2) (26 page)

"Why?" He asked.

I took a deep breath. "What I did wasn't right, and
the only excuse I have is that I suck and I was afraid--"

"You don't suck," he interrupted quietly. "You
understood everything I said today. It's just that you get
frustrated when you don't understand something, and then
immediately give up."

Camael stepped in front of me. He waited for me to
look up at him until he continued. The light from the glass doors
down the hall gave his body a pale blue aura. "I helped you because
it looked like you were giving up--that you believed failure was
inevitable instead of trusting your abilities."

The blue light behind him bled into him, until I
couldn't tell where he ended and the sunlight began. I wiped my
eyes.

"What is it?" He whispered.

"You probably shouldn't reward me with touching
motivational speeches
after
I cheat."

He still looked fuzzy when I opened my eyes--and
distant. "Every day presents an opportunity for redemption and
forgiveness." His cool, ethereal fingers curled around my hand.
"And, for you to understand yourself, and through doing so, begin
to understand His love."

Um, what? I tried to recoil, but he refused to let
go. How did those sweet, inspiring words turn into him waxing
poetic about God's "love"?

I shuddered and walked towards the flickering exit
sign. "Let's just go."

***

It was impossible not to notice Oz's car in the
parking lot, smoking and groaning like a little black raincloud in
the middle of a blue sky on a sunny day. As if that wasn't enough,
it was also the only rig in the pick-up zone. I guess all the other
cars had given it a wide berth because they were afraid it would
blow up.

A barricade of backpacks had already been set up to
protect the stragglers from a possible onslaught of flying car
bits. I jumped over it and strutted to the passenger door.

Oz unlocked it, then kicked it open. "So, how did you
do?" He asked, as if beating your car to get it to work was
normal.

I tucked my chin into my chest. That was the last
question I wanted to answer. Slowly, I got in the car. Carefully, I
folded my coat on my lap. Then, I made a big show of fastening my
seatbelt.

Oz leaned forward. "Devi?"

I bit my lip. "Um, I did really well, so let's go do
something fun."

He grinned. "Really well?"

I glared at him as Camael materialized in the
backseat. Why did he have to focus on that instead of the fun part?
"What, you don't think I have what it takes to
pwn
the SATs?"

"Devi, I don't really want to say this, but I was
there, with you, while you worked on your math homework last
night."

"That's right. You were there, and I seem to remember
that someone had difficulty dividing."

Oz looked pleased when I said that. "It's true. I
can't. And while I don't doubt you did well on the verbal portion
of your test, I am a little surprised to hear you say that you, uh,
pwned
the entire thing. Is that an SAT
word, by the way?"

I groaned. "I'll let you know that I did very well on
the math section."

Oz tilted his head to the side. "Uh huh. So if a
train is going at 100mph--"

"What is it with these trains?" I slammed my fists
into my thighs, then winced.
Ouch. Bad move.
Still, I grit
my teeth and kept going. "I hate trains. The only one I've ever
been on is the Zoo train, and it didn't exactly leave a big
impression."

"Well, let's have this train ride reflect your
mediocre experience on the Zoo train. If it leaves at 8:15am and
arrives at 9:30pm--"

"That's way too long of a ride for the Zoo train. It
takes fifteen minutes to do it, and goes like 10mph." I smiled with
triumph. "There, I answered your question."

He propped his elbow on the steering wheel and
laughed.

I leaned back into my seat. "What? Why are you
looking at me like that?"

"Oh, I just have a feeling that I know how you did so
well on the math portion of your test."

My heart pounded. For a moment, my vision blurred,
and his smile twisted as if I were looking at his reflection in a
funky funhouse mirror. "It's because I'm so smart," I
whispered.

He leaned closer. "You are, but I don't think that's
why."

I sucked on my bottom lip. "Oh really? Well, why
then?"

He cocked his head to the side, motioning at the
backseat.

My cheeks burned. Did he know I cheated? No, he
couldn't know. Angels didn't do things like that, which meant all
that winking and subtle head movements were leading up to...

No, he couldn't possibly be thinking what I thought
he was thinking. Not in a middle of a crowded school parking lot.
Not in the backseat of his stinky car next to the angel. Even a
demon would have to know that this was the inappropriate moment for
"sexy time."

My cheeks blushed. I took a deep breath.

And then the demon cut me off. "You rocked the math
section because you got the angel to cheat for you."

It took a full ten seconds for his words to register.
Then, the only response I had was: "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? I'm not wrong, am I?"

There was a sharp voice from the back seat.
"Azazel."

Oz ignored it. He looked pretty happy with himself in
general. I fisted the folded jacket on my lap. The only thing that
kept me from tossing it in his face was the knowledge that he'd
probably like that.

I glared at him. I guess I could try to lie, but he
already knew. So I swallowed my pride and asked: "How did you
know?"

He turned his key in the ignition. Within a plume of
smoke, the car sputtered to life. It was so loud that I almost
didn't hear his reply. "Because it is exactly what I would have
done."

My eyes went wide. "Really? I mean, you don't think
it was bad?"

He frowned. "Devi, look who you're asking. Hell, I
would have tried to cheat for you if I didn't suck worse than
you."

I touched his soft sleeve of his leather jacket. "You
would?"

"Of course." He brushed his fingers with mine before
gripping the wheel. "I hate letting another guy cheat for you. That
should be my job."

He looked away, a bit embarrassed, perhaps, for
admitting something like that. I leaned back, grinning and content
not to say anything. My skin tingled where he'd touched me.

Oz started sweet talking the car as he restarted it a
few times. The expressions on the faces of the people outside were
priceless. Some of the kids on the steps outside the school dashed
back inside, and a gutsy mom in a van gunned it for the exit.
Finally the car lurched forward. Oz looked up, squinted, flipped
down the visor, and took off.

For the next two hours, I didn't stop smiling.

***

I would remember the following few weeks as some of
the happiest of my life. It's difficult to describe exactly why
because it seemed so simple. Jasmine, Kim and I had lunch together
every day. Oz would drive me home after school in his beater. Kim
bought me a safety helmet, which she reminded me to wear via
post-it notes she left on my locker after each period. She insisted
I needed it if I was going to continue to ride around in a
deathtrap.

For the first time since kindergarten, I started to
look forward to going to school. Jasmine and I always passed notes
to each other during History class. We got caught, once. The
teacher asked Jasmine to read aloud our note, which she did--or at
least some of it. She only got to the second stanza of her erotic
love poem before the teacher told her to take her seat.

He never asked her to read anything in class
again.

Yes, everything would have been perfect, if it
weren't for the counseling sessions.

"You can't keep ignoring me forever, you know,"
Forneus would say as he leaned back in his leather chair. It was
the only item he'd brought into the room. The previous counselor
had filled the room with dream catchers, fake plants, and cheesy,
tie-died posters with inspirational messages. Now the walls were
chipped and bare. There wasn't even anything on the surface of the
desk.

After a long silence, he'd look down. "If you
continue to refuse to talk to me, I'll have to inform the
principal."

I never responded to anything he said--not until the
end of the session, when he'd gently pull me over and whisper in my
ear before the angel and I left. "There are things you cannot
discuss with either of them."

I'd always swallow, clutch Camael's hand, and tell
myself to look away. And despite that, I'd still glance up at his
enigmatic, distant purple eyes as he murmured: "I'll be here, when
you're ready."

But it was easy to forget the way his words made my
skin crawl when everything else was perfect.

In the evenings, Camael helped me study. He was the
best tutor in the world. He never got impatient, distracted, or
tired. And when we were done, he'd go to the closet. I got my first
B ever on a math test. I was so happy that I wanted to tape it to
the fridge. When I chickened out, Camael told me I could tape it to
the closet door.

Yeah, things were pretty perfect, until I lay alone
in bed at night and tried to sleep.

I hadn't said anything to Oz or Camael about my
conversation with Forneus on Halloween. I seemed to know,
instinctively, that this happiness was fragile, and that even the
slightest disturbance could shatter it: being told to wait a little
longer to look for my brother, hearing from Camael's lips that he
wouldn't save my father, or watching Oz fall out of love with
me.

Still, even that pain disappeared when I drifted off
to sleep. And in the morning my fears, like my dreams, felt hazy
and distant.

But they weren't. That peace born of routine, and
that love that thrived in ignorance, were the true illusions. Soon,
I learned there was only so much one could do to postpone fate.

Chapter 14

That Friday in mid-November was wet and cold, which
wasn't unusual. It also wasn't unusual that by second period, the
energy I'd received from three cups of Green Tea I'd chugged at
breakfast was long gone. The burn on my tongue had stopped hurting,
though. That was worth something.

I squinted at the sine waves on white board, wishing
I'd gotten more sleep. They seemed to bob up and down, like the
ocean. Mr. Baker drew a few more waves. My mouth fell open in a
dopey smile.
Look, now they have friends.

Wait, was I hallucinating? I rubbed my eyes, then
pried them open with my fingers. They felt dry. They were probably
bloodshot and sunken.
Great, everyone's going to think I'm
tripping.

I yawned and frowned at the front of the room. It
seemed to focus me, sort of. Mr. Baker's lecture on the unit circle
wasn't doing much to pep me up.

He droned on until the last fifteen minutes of
class.

At this time, Mr. Baker handed out our homework and
went over the problems that gave us the most trouble. Like usual,
he wrote the problem out on the board in purple white marker.

Then he called me to the front of the room.

I shot up in my chair, alert. "What?"

"Would you mind dong this problem for us, Devi?"

My hands began to throb to my heartbeat. "In front of
everyone?"

Mr. Baker looked at the floor. He bit his lip. He
shifted on his feet. For a moment, I thought he would take back his
request. Then I heard a soft: "Yes."

My chair screeched and left silver lines on the cream
tiles. I picked up my binder, then set it down. No, I didn't need
it--didn't need everyone's eyes on me either.

I folded my hands over my stomach and made my way to
the white board. Everyone looked as confused as I did, and some
even gave me consolatory glances. Mr. Baker never asked his
students to do this sort of thing. So why was he asking me?

I grabbed a red of the dry-erase marker and looked at
the problem.

And looked at it.

The back of my neck grew hot. I felt my classmates'
eyes on me, as if a nest of baby spiders had hatched on my back. I
lifted my hand. My sleeve wiped away the top part of a series of
numbers my sleepy, anxious mind couldn't decipher.

"Did you do your homework?" He asked.

I gulped and readjusted my grip, reverting back to
the way I used to hold my writing utensils in first grade, which
was "just awful" if Mrs. Finnerty was to be believed.

"Yes," I whispered. Maintaining my arm's rigid
position above my head made it ache. I spoke the truth, though. It
had taken Camael a few hours to explain it all to me, but I did get
it eventually and I had done it. I just couldn't do it now, with
everyone watching.

The teacher sighed.

Did he not believe me? Did he think I was a cheater?
Alright, maybe I was a little bit bad, but I was trying to change.
I'd done so well the past few weeks. Camael had said so, and Oz had
finally conceded that I could be trusted to divide.

But none of that mattered now, because I couldn't
even think.

"Devi. Do you want me to calm you?"

I almost said yes. Almost. Then I remembered my
promise to Oz to endure my pain without the angel's healing light.
I doubted Mr. Baker's second period math class was what he had in
mind, but I still couldn't do it.

I shook my head.

"Alright," Camael responded. "Take a deep breath. You
did this a few days ago."

I know I did, but I can't remember. I can't
think.

I shut my eyes. A few days ago, I was not in the
front of the room, and everyone was not watching my face become as
red as a tomato.

"Devi?" The angel asked.

My eyes shifted towards him. Unlike me, he wasn't
discolored. I really wished I could stoically stand in front of so
many people. I wish I could disappear.