The seven blocks home are as quiet as the earlier trip. All day long, there has been a tightness in my chest, a shallowness to my breath, as if I’m on the verge of hyperventilating, or bawling. But I’m capable of neither. For me there’s no relief, just the sensation of being an over inflated balloon. Ever increasing pressure without release. Waiting to burst.
Trying to shut out Gabriel’s nearness, I mentally rehearse what I’m going to say to the case worker during my call. I practice putting the blame squarely on myself and not on the Fosters.
I’m just not happy here. I hate this stupid school. If I can’t go back to The Children’s Center, I’m going to run away.
Stuff like that. Stuff I’ve used before.
The thing I’m most sorry about, besides Gabriel, is disappointing Kate and Steven. But in time they’ll be able to replace me. They deserve a kid who appreciates what they have to offer. How great they are.
As we reach the pretty porch, I realize I’m holding my breath—literally.
Quietly exhaling, I dig for my key in my mess of a backpack. As I rummage and curse under my breath, a familiar spot on my back begins to sing with awareness. I feel Gabriel’s barely there touch as he asks, “How long are you going to give me the silent treatment, Alexia?”
How long are you going to lie to me, Gabriel?
His tingling heat radiates across my back in small, soothing circles as he says, “I can keep this up longer than you can.”
Wanna bet?
Grasping the elusive key, I unlock the front door. Unable to stand the feel of his hand on me, I pull away from the exquisite agony of his touch. But before I can go inside, my resolve crumbles and I whisper, “Goodbye.”
“So we’re talking now?”
Even though I’ve decided to leave, something in my heart leaps with hope. One last chance Gabriel will answer my questions with the truth and I can stay a little longer. “Sure. You can start by telling me why you lied yesterday?”
Watching his jaw stiffen, I know it’s over.
We
are over. All I want is to get safely inside before collapsing in on myself. Gabriel doesn’t look at me and when he speaks his voice is flat. “You’re not going to let this go. Are you?”
“Not today.”
“Then, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Alexia.”
No, you won’t…
Staring fixedly at the red door I sense, rather than see, him leave. Going inside to the privacy of my room, I curl into a little ball, letting great, swelling sobs crash over me like turbulent ocean waves during a storm. For a brief time I feel my loss—all I’ve been forced to become and everything I’ll never be—because of my curse.
And I mourn the loss of Gabriel, my protector and friend, the bright center of my life. My sun.
Sometime later when I’m out of tears, I take the card I have for emergencies and a cordless phone. I can’t make the call from inside the Fosters’ house—surrounded by their things, it feels too much like betrayal. So I go outside, to the cheerful back patio with the gas grill and matching wicker lawn furniture, to do what must be done.
Staring at the card, I feel like I’m on the ledge of a building, poised to jump—praying for someone to pull me back from the void—but nobody comes.
Numbly I dial, impassively noting the tremor in my hands. Someone answers after the third ring. “
Hello?”
I have to clear my throat before I can respond. “Yes, may I, please, talk to Mrs. Lopez?” My voice is small and brittle.
“Wait!”
Gabriel comes from the side of the house, his lean body moving in long, purposeful strides. As he closes the distant between us, his eyes swirl with emotion, his words urgent. “Please Alexia, don’t do this. Hang up the phone. I’ll tell you everything. Okay? No more lies. I promise! Just, please, hang up the phone!”
The voice on the other end of the line barely registers as I absently press the disconnect button. Gabriel stops before me—imploring and filling my senses. I’m so relieved he has come to stop me. And terrified, because I don’t know how to stay.
Taking the phone from my shaking hands, he sets it aside and leads me to a wooden bench just off the deck. After I sit, he settles beside me so that our knees touch, creating a tiny, warm connection. Around us, multicolored leaves rain down from the trees as the earth prepares for the harder season ahead. Although the fall has been mild, I know the bitter cold’s imminent. Suddenly I crave a safe harbor, the warmth of Gabriel’s presence to shelter me from the bleakness of winter.
Staring at Gabriel with dread-laced expectancy, I see the haunted look in his face noting twin points of agony in his beautiful blue eyes.
I wait.
He runs his hand through his sandy hair—something he does when he’s upset—and swallows. “I’m going to tell you everything. I promise. But you first.”
“What?” I feel the confusion puckering my brow.
“You have to tell me your secret, before I can tell you mine.”
I’m not resistant to this, but it makes no sense. “Gabriel, I think you already know my secret.”
“I need to hear you say it. Tell me out loud.”
“Why?”
His hands, sure and sweltering, grasp mine. His deep voice pleads, “Please, tell me everything. From the beginning, right up to now. Trust me, Alexia.”
And I do. Despite the hurt and the lies, I’ve never stopped trusting him. Not really.
“I see things, goodness and evil, in people.” He nods encouragingly but doesn’t interrupt. “The first time, I was maybe four or five. My mom had just died—she killed herself.” Still silent, he squeezes my hand in reassurance. “My father passed away when I was a baby, so when my mom died, I went to a place for kids without relatives. Like an orphanage, only it’s not correct to call them that anymore. That was the first time I noticed people shined, when I stepped foot in that place.
“I didn’t recognize the darkness at first. Surrounded mostly by other children, what darkness there was, was fleeting. Before I could analyze it, it was gone. When I was six, I got placed in my first foster home. That’s where I learned about the darkness.” I remember the sensation of wetting my pants when I first encountered the woman with the boiling pewter halo but keep this bit of information to myself. Goosebumps shiver along my skin; however, I’m too deep inside myself to be bothered by the chill.
“My first foster mother was the person responsible for me equating the darkness with evil. She was an expert at hurting us where it wouldn’t show. She had me for seventeen months before I could get away. I’ve never let anyone hurt me since.” I describe to Gabriel how I spent the next several years constantly in motion, in and out of The Children’s Center, never staying in one place for very long. Constantly running from the darkness.
“When I was twelve, one of my foster families returned me to The Children’s Center and I met Derry. I stayed for two and a half years because I couldn’t bear to leave him. But there was a boy, a teenager, who was so dark I couldn’t get near him without being sick. He started—uh—fixating on me. Trapping me in the hallway, stalking me to and from the bathrooms, stuff like that. There was so much hate emanating from his eyes. I don’t know what happened to him, but whatever it was, pretty much destroyed him. He was a monster in a human shell.
“He started hassling Derry and I knew I had to get away—it was the only way to keep Derry safe. For some reason, I seem to attract the really dark ones. They’re drawn to me—like they sense I can see them for what they are—their evil—and they feed on it.
“That’s what it was like the first day, with those boys and Mr. Creepy, until you showed up.” At some point Gabriel has removed his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. I don’t recall when it happened, but I pause to pull it tighter around my shivering body. Closing my eyes while I inhale, I center myself in the heady infusion of Gabriel’s scent trying to stave of the dread gathering in my chest. After a long moment, I consider Gabriel with my steady gaze. “I’ve told you my terrible secret. Now tell me yours.”
For a moment, he looks as if he’s considering lying again. I watch as a silent struggle wages behind his heavenly blue eyes, and then he admits earnestly, “I’m assigned to you.”
“Assigned?”
He nods. “I’m your guardian.”
“Like a bodyguard? From the government or something?”
His wan smile is sincere as he shakes his head slightly. “Not like that.”
“Like what, then?”
“I’m
your
guardian. I was sent to you.”
“As in guardian angel?” As ridiculous as the words sound on my lips, one glance at him confirms to my heart it’s true.
His brow quirks. “Technically, I’m a Seraph.”
“But you eat! I’ve seen you.” It’s funny I would think of our Oreos at a time like this. Then other thoughts come—Gabriel sweating in gym, knocking Naomi with my backpack, the vulnerable look sometimes in his eyes, the scent of his laundry soap—images flicker through my mind so rapidly I can’t process them all.
“For many assignments the Seraphim take mortal shape, and for the duration we’re subject to the limitations of our human form. We eat, sleep, and have all the same bodily functions and emotional reactions as mortals. It’s part of our great burden, the challenge and sacrifice of being a guardian.”
“But you have parents!”
He nods. “Gabriel, the sixteen-year-old boy, has parents.”
“Fictional parents?”
“No. My parents are other Seraphs, who support a handful of guardians in whatever way their assignment calls for: mother, father, siblings, children, grandparents, aunts and uncles.”
Even though I know he’s being honest, my mind has a hard time wrapping itself around the unbelievable circumstances. “What about all those things you told me about your life? How do I know what’s true about you and what’s a lie?”
“A guardian’s life-story is infused with as much truth as possible.”
“And the surfing? You said you loved surfing!”
“I do. I’ve had the pleasure of surfing on more than one assignment. It’s one of my most favorite mortal things.”
Mortal things.
My addled brain takes a moment to absorb that.
“What do you really look like? Do you have wings?”
He laughs. “No. And I don’t change shape if that’s what you’re asking. This form is as close to my true essence as a sixteen-year-old mortal can get. For assignments I may appear older or younger depending on the needs of my charge, but I’m always my true self.”
Charge. Sent. Assigned.
His words twist in my head, causing it to ache.
“So I’m—what—your project? This is all an act? You were just pretending to be interested in me? Pretending to be my friend?”
Gabriel presses his lips together. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“What would you say then?”
He takes a controlled breath before explaining in deliberate, careful words. “In mortal form, guardians succumb to mortality. Fear, pain, temptation. Hormones. We’re subject to the same feelings and reactions as all of humankind. But we possess an inner strength—a discipline—people can’t begin to comprehend. Fighting against those feelings is part of our mission, our great sacrifice.”
“So, you don’t
feel
anything for me?”
The look he gives me is too complicated to define. His answer—when he finally gives me one—comes out strained. “
Of course
I feel for you.”
“But you fight against it!” I can’t help the accusation. I’m entirely too raw to finesse my responses.
Gabriel jumps to his feet, pacing. “As if I could fight against
this
. I don’t understand it. I’ve never felt so weak.”
His last word sucks all the fury from my side of our discussion. Although he hasn’t meant it as a recrimination, I’m struck with guilt. “I make you weak?”
“No, you make me
feel
—to the depths of my core. The sensations are overwhelming. You’re so powerful!” Taking a ragged breath, he gazes at me with unnerving intensity. “Don’t you know how amazing, how beautiful, you are?”
He’s talking about more than physical beauty, but I’m not ready to embrace that part of myself. Does he see people like I do? I think back to him the first day of school, so brilliant that I distrusted my own eyes. Now I realize some part of me knew, even then. “Your halo,” I say. “Show me.”
Holding my breath, Gabriel’s pained expression mirrors mine as we stare at one another until our pretensions slip away leaving us naked and vulnerable. Eyes locked on my face, he gives a single nod. Then he explodes with blinding, white-hot light.
For a moment Gabriel is the sun, my only purpose to revolve around him. And he’s more beautiful than I envision, more resplendent than I could ever imagine. His magnificence fills me until I can no longer contain it. Then he gently holds me while I weep.
Later, when Gabriel has rocked me into a semi-peaceful stupor, I admit, “I’m not meant to leave this time, am I? I’m supposed to stay.”
I feel his face bob against my hair. “You’re supposed to discover your destiny. Become who you’re meant to be.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Part of it, yes—but there’s more to it. I’ll explain everything, I promise, but another day.” When I start to protest he says, “I’m not going anywhere, Alexia. We’ve got time.”