The Guardian (25 page)

With the weight of his body collapsing against me, I sink down into a thick drift of snow that blankets the pristine park. Feeling the warm wetness of his emotions slide down my skin and through the valley of my body beneath my shirt, I cling to him, murmuring words meant to soothe. I run my fingers through his fine, soft hair and clutch his head against the crook of my neck. Comforting him with my body, I curl around him like a protective cocoon until it’s impossible to determine where I end and he begins.

It’s a long time until Gabriel stills and an even longer time until he moves again. When he finally lifts his head, I’m ready to let him go. But instead of separating himself, he repositions his face so his lips press into the damp skin of my neck. Once, then twice, he presses against me. Before I know it, he is blazing a trail of kisses up my neck, across my jaw and toward my mouth. When he looks at me his eyes are still crazed and wild but different. Desire, hot and electric, crackles around us as he moves over me. Lowering his mouth to mine, he sinks into me, kissing me as if his survival, his very sanity, depends upon it.

CHAPTER 13

Terrible!
The memory of Gabriel’s whisper echoes through my brain, but I refuse to accept his inevitable rejection one second sooner than I have to. Instead, I kiss him back with everything in me. Stealing the moment and claiming it for my own.

When he finally pulls away, cradling my face between his hands and whispering “Sorry,” I’m prepared.

“It’s fine,” I murmur, already mourning the loss of this part of him. “At least you didn’t say ‘
terrible’
this time.”

My words—a tiny calculated wound—hit their mark and he flinches. “Alex, can I explain?”

“I get it. Kissing me was terrible.”

“No.” Gabriel gasps in protest, and then he visibly softens. But the fierceness remains simmering in his eyes as he stares at me with remorse. Sitting up, he pulls me out of the snow bank to face him. “It was never you. I know I let you think that, but what was
terrible
was me. Kissing you, Alexia, was wonderful! More wonderful than any other human experience I’ve ever had—more wonderful than all of them combined. So wonderful that if I could find a way to spend a lifetime kissing you, I would!”

And though I’d determined not to cry, his declaration causes hot tears of confusion to flow down my cheeks. The realization he likes kissing me opens a floodgate. “But what you said about your boundaries, I thought you didn’t like me the same way I liked—I mean like a girlfriend.”

“I am a guardian of ages old. An Eternal Seraph. It’s an honor to serve, to struggle. Part of my duty is to be a bulwark, strong and disciplined against mortal temptations. I should’ve been able to easily overcome these feelings I have for you.”

“And can’t you?”

“They’re tearing me apart!” The agony in his celestial eyes fuels my doubt.

“But you’d vanquish them if you could.
Overcome
your feelings for me.”

“No, Alexia. When I kiss you, I understand what could tempt beings like me to forsake eternity—to fall for another kind of heaven.”

“That’s your mortal hormones talking.”

“Then I hope they never shut up.” His fingers gently wipe at my face, brushing away my doubt. Closing my eyes against his touch, I savor the sensations. Soft as the flit of a butterfly’s wing, he kisses my eyelids. His lips flutter down my face following the moist, salty path of my tears to nip at the corner of my mouth. Quietly, he sighs against my lips, “I adore kissing you.”

Then he presses me flat into the snow—his body heavy as it covers mine—and shows me just how much.

Eventually the cold, and the fact we’ve been making out in a snow drift, drive us to our feet. I drift the rest of the way home in a sort of fog, wet and frozen—and sublime. When we get to the Fosters’ pretty porch Gabriel halts my steps, declaring, “I’ve been dying to do this.” He grasps my hand and spins me against him. Cupping my face, he kisses me again, deep and slow.

Even though Nana Kransky has returned to Florida, I know the neighbors must be watching us. But I can’t bring myself to care. Perhaps they’re even glad, and I imagine them saying things like “finally” and “it’s about time.”

The next morning our friends are breathless with anticipation to confirm I’m okay, and to learn the outcome of my afterschool summons. Since lunch is the first time our little group is all together, we agree to talk then. Once we’ve gathered at our usual table, it’s not eagerness that I see on their faces but rather a mixture of concern and dread, laced with various degrees of anger.

Silently, they wait for me to begin. Gabriel raises our intertwined fingers and kisses the back of my hand before giving me a solemn nod. Retelling the story, I watch their faces transform from fear to awe when I get to the part where Gabriel threatens to “end” Mr. Creepy. Prudently, I stop after storming out of the classroom but before the kissing. When I’m finished everyone’s smiling appreciatively, except Derry.

Derry’s face is so complex. Anger, possessiveness, remorsefulness and gratitude morph into an agonized expression that could easily be mistaken for jealousy—if I didn’t know better. The effect twists his gentle features into something alien and severe. He opens his mouth, but Becke unknowingly interrupts before he can speak.

“But you wouldn’t really do it?” Becke insists, her thin brows pulling into a sharp ‘v ’. “I mean, you wouldn’t
really
kill Mr. Creepy? Would you Gabriel?”

Gabriel looks around the table, his response is careful. “I don’t condone murder. But there are a lot of ways to exact justice. I’m not sure what I’ll do if Mr. Creepy tests me—but I am positive I’ll protect Alex first and foremost. At any cost.”

“I could commit murder.” Derry’s right forearm unconsciously shields his left, pressing the abused limb against his chest as he speaks. “To protect someone I love.”

“Me too!” Jonah’s fist pounds the table in agreement. His halo darkens a shade and whips around him, making a complete revolution before settling.

“Let’s hope it never comes to that,” I interject, eager to stop all talk of taking another’s life. “Let’s pray Mr. Creepy got Gabriel’s message loud and clear and believes it.”

“Do you think he’ll try to retaliate?” Derry asks. As he finishes his single sandwich, I slide him an Oreo and my grapes. He pops a grape into his mouth and makes a small face of indulgence.

“When—not if—Mr. Creepy retaliates,” Jonah confirms. “It won’t be obvious, or aimed at Gabriel. And probably not Alex either. He’ll probably go for Becke or Derrick.”  As he reasons aloud, his arm wraps around Becke’s waist pulling her closer. Kissing her cheek, he murmurs, “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you, Babe.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to any of us.” Gabriel’s face is severe and cryptic. “But we should still be on our guard.”

Mr. Creepy’s class, however, is uneventful—not only that day but for the whole rest of the week. Despite the inactivity, none of us are foolish enough to believe we’re off the hook. Even if we did, the random activity spikes in his halo indicate otherwise.

The one good thing to come out of the Mr. Creepy confrontation is Gabriel and I clearing up the whole kissing thing. Now that my guardian has given in to his hormones, we spend much of the afternoon in the Fosters’ living room making up for lost time.

In my old life, I never dreamed about boys—much less having a boyfriend—but now… To be able to touch another person, to wrap my arms and my heart around him and know he’s mine is an amazing gift. It seems like an incredibly beautiful fairy tale.

But even in my happiest moments, like when Gabriel’s lips are softly exploring mine, dark thoughts stir in the back of my mind.
Angels falling; the ominous, unforeseen event warranting my guardian; Gabriel leaving
… I try to cling to the here and now, live in the happiness of the moment, but at the most unexpected of times I’m reminded many fairy tales end in tragedy. Unfortunately, I’ve seen too much darkness to make believe otherwise. Happily-ever-after is a myth.

During one marathon make-out session, as Gabriel and I take a breather, our lips swollen from one another’s kisses, I can’t help but vocalize some of the things bothering me. “After the incident with Mr. Creepy—when you told me you were sorry—I thought you were talking about crossing our boundaries.” Gabriel shakes his head back and forth, negating my words while confirming my mistaken assumption. “What did you really mean?”

He reaches for me, enveloping me in his strong embrace so my back’s cradled against the hard contours of his chest. “I meant I was sorry for deceiving you—for letting you believe I didn’t return your feelings—for not confessing everything that was in my heart.” His voice drops. “For not telling you I love you.”

My breath catches in my throat, as if the moment’s frozen in time. “You love me?”

“Yes.”

“I love you, too.” When he chuckles, I twist in his arms to better see his face. “What?”

“It’s just, this is so unexpected.”

“Falling in love?”

“My heart taking over. This isn’t supposed to happen.”

Only Gabriel can take me to unexpected heights one second, and then send me plunging over the edge to splatter below the next.  His feelings for me are a complication making him weak and compromising his assignment. Biting at my lower lip, I feel the need to apologize. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that!” Placing his warm hand on my cheek, his fingertips smooth my furrows as he explains, “Love’s a gift, a miracle. You’re my miracle, Alexia.

“I fought against it as hard as I could. I thought it was a loss of control—but it’s not a loss of control. It’s a surrendering of control. So beautiful to lay yourself at the feet of another person, the person you love. I thought I understood—but this, us,
you
are a revelation to me.”

We kiss.

Love, all-encompassing, the most exquisite joy and piercing agony, always one and the same, flattens me. The more my love grows—and the happier I become—the more I fear it being ripped away. It’s as if Gabriel and I have reached our pinnacle, and while we remain at the top—for now—balancing in perfect harmony, there’s nowhere to go but down.

*

Winter continues to taunt, dumping snow then taking it away, leaving a gray dirty slush behind. As the school year continues, Kendra remains MIA. Mr. Creepy deliberately ignores us, while we warily wait for retaliation. Gabriel and I continue to kiss and to love one another, exploring the heights of our relationship and doing our best not to talk about the unknown—yet inevitable—event looming in our future.

By March, spring blesses the land with an early thaw. Flowers begin to bloom along our seven blocks, coaxed into life by the unseasonably warm sun. As I watch their tentative shoots growing into colorful buds, I reflect how this tease of weather is a cruel trick—lulling them into false hope before devastating them by the frigid cold that’ll inevitably follow.

And because their destruction is imminent—I want to tell them not to be so trusting. But hope’s in their nature, resilience in their design. Even if the reappearance of winter decimates them, they’ll return the following year as vibrant as ever. In the life cycle of perennials, gone for now doesn’t mean gone for good.

Like the flowers, the students of Midlands High have traded in their hoodies and jeans for t-shirts and shorts and the promise of changing seasons. A few of the more adventurous kids even sport flip-flops. Optimism permeates the school, and it’s easy to get sucked in—to trust in the here and now—and believe better days are coming.

The cafeteria’s a buzzing hive of activity, everyone making plans to take advantage of the weather while it lasts. As I unpack my hearty lunch, half a loaded turkey sandwich, grapes, Pringles, and Vitamin Water, Becke declares, “We should do something over the break.”

The following week is spring vacation, and although it promises a break from school, it also means a week without Derry. Turning to my best friend, I ask, “Are you making any progress with the Eccles?”

He grunts. “No! My stupid grades, I mean I’m getting ‘B’s and ‘C’s in practically everything except English. I got ‘D’s on the last four assignments, and I’ve been working my ass off in that class.”

Darkly, Jonah adds, “I don’t think your grades have anything to do with the quality of your work. English is one of my best subjects and I’ve gone from ‘A’s to ‘C’s.” There are nods all around as we each vocalize our own drop in grades. When Becke says it’s clearly Mr. Creepy’s way of getting back at us, Jonah’s reply is grim. “He shouldn’t be able to get away with the crap he pulls. Eventually, somebody’s got to stop him.”

“Let’s dwell on brighter topics.” Becke rubs her hands together as her halo swirls, enveloping her in gossamer lemon chiffon. “So what should we do over break?”

“Well.” Gabriel pauses getting our attention. “There’s a concert next week, and my father wants to get tickets for me and my friends as a belated birthday gift.”

“What band?”

He tells us, and I can’t help but squeal when he casually drops the name of one of my most favorite bands. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“No way!” Even Jonah’s excited. “And your dad’s just going to get us tickets?”