The Angel Series Collection - Books 1-3

Dreams and Dreamy Boys-1

On the first day of school, I was nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Starting a new school was only the icing on the cake. My dream seemed to have kicked off the day with a smashing splash. Despite how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake off the edginess.

It started sweetly. I was at school, standing by my locker. A tall boy with a dimpled smile greeted me, offering to carry my books. I returned his smile, thinking he was cute. It was more of a sense than visualizing his features. There was a blur veiling his face. I noted a ring on his finger. The stones were quite remarkable in size, black diamonds out-lining an eye, nestled in yellow diamonds. How strange. Why would someone wear such an ugly ring?

As the dream continued, the faceless boy took my hand, leading me down the hall. Honeysuckle lingered in the air as our tennis shoes squeaked across the polished floor. The boy seemed familiar, like a close friend, as he struck up a conversation. I strained to listen to his muffled words like I was watching a silent film.

We came to a halt at a door. Nothing unusual, just an ordinary white door. The boy opened it and stepped back for me to enter. I stepped inside, thinking we were entering class as aimless chatter echoed. I smiled at the boy for holding the door open, but when I drew my eyes from his face, the noise ceased, and I gasped. The room’s temperature dropped to a frost. I hugged my waist, shivering as fright seized my body.

When my eyes settled, I saw thirteen men veiled in black robes, gathered in a circle, chanting in a strange language. I must’ve stumbled into the wrong room. I looked back at the boy, but to my horror, he’d vanished. Panic quickly soared through me. As if someone nudged me, I carefully emerged from the shadows into the dim light. I paused, eyeing all thirteen robed men. How odd, I thought. I’d escaped their notice. The men’s attention appeared focused on an obscured object in the center of the circle.

An urge rushed over me. I had to see what held their interest. I edged my way through the black robes. The closer I got to the core, the robed men pushed me back, devouring me. I pushed and shoved with all my might, I had to see, but my efforts were futile. My heart hammered against my chest as if death was beckoning me.

Then the robed men stepped aside, allowing me to pass. I swallowed down my panic and eased my way through the maze of blackness. Once I reached the center, my gaze lowered and horror struck. I began screaming, blood-curdling screams.

At that moment, my alarm exploded, shattering fragments of my dream into a million pieces. My eyes flew open as I bolted to a sitting position. Coated in sweat, I labored. I searched the room for a second, confused about my surroundings. My eyes rested on a thin stream of light filtering through a small gap in the curtain. The soft glow comforted me as my lungs filled with air, and my erratic pulse slowed. It’d been a couple of months since my last dream. This time, it had returned tenfold. Since the night of my father’s death, my dreams had been haunting me. That was eight years ago.

I inhaled a frayed breath as I dragged myself out of bed and headed to shower. I had a big day ahead of me, delivering papers and tackling a new school. I dreaded it too. I had to keep reminding myself this was my last year. That little slice of hope kept me going forward.

After I dressed, I went downstairs to the kitchen. I had a feeling the day was going to be all sunshine and smiles until I heard the rumble of thunder. Quickly I padded over to the window and peered outside. My heart sank. “Crap! Crap! Crap! Damn! Damn! Damn,” I ranted. “Great!” I huffed, still staring out the window. Dark gray clouds bruised the sky as far as I could see. I flopped down at the table, stewing over my day ahead. I was unprepared. No raincoat, no rubber boots. My reputation was doomed. I could hear the taunting and giggles throughout the entire school at the new chick that looked like a drowned rat. Me! I couldn’t wait for this day to end. Just a fun-filled day of kicks and giggles. Suddenly lightning ripped the sky, and thunder roared.

. Me! * * *

An endeavor ended, and a new adventure began as I entered past the double doors of Tangi High. A brush of warm air and the aroma of burnt toast smothered my senses. Apart from the unsavory smell of toast, the heat melted the stiffness in my fingers. Though, it did little to comfort me. My first day was already a disaster. A swamp witch looked better than I did. Stares targeted my back as I made my way down the hall. Two boys whistled at me as I passed. The giggles confirmed their intent was a jab.

Ignoring the ding wads, I searched for a restroom. My hair looked like a mop, and my wet clothes clung to my body like a second skin. I finally spotted the girl’s restroom on the left and ducked inside. I was towel drying my hair, standing at the sink when the swish of the door opened as two girls passed by me, chatting about some hot new boy. I heard one of the girls say that she was already in love. I laughed to myself, shaking my head. The two girls were in their zone. My presence had slipped past their notice.

I turned back to my reflection in the mirror. I sighed, grabbing a hairband from my book bag and wrung my hair up into a ponytail. I sighed, staring at my pathetic reflection. A mess didn’t begin to describe my disheveled hair. “Oh, well.” There was nothing I could do. I shrugged off my waterlogged hoodie and tied it around my waist. I should be dried out by the end of the day. Although I think a raincoat would be a good investment. Sara needed to fork over some money. She dragged me to this hole in the ground. The least she could do is provide a few necessities. It wouldn’t hurt her to sell a pair of her Louboutins. I leaned against the sink. The two girls had already left, and I had a moment to myself. I thought about calling Beck and Laurie. I missed them and my life in Texas. Those two were loyal to a fault. Best friends ever! I knuckled a tear. Maybe I’d call them when I got a phone. I kept teetering on that idea. Hearing their voices might throw me into a spiral, making me hate this place more if that were possible. I let out a long sigh and donned my book bag and headed out.

I ventured down the hall, pushing through the throng of students. Loud twaddle jacketed the air. Several students huddled in clumps by the lockers. Most of the students here grew up in Tangi. Small towns like this one, new kids usually struggled to fit in. I’d seen it a hundred times when newbies become an outcast like a LEOPARD.

I stretched my neck, looking for the office. It had to be here somewhere. After fighting through the cluster of bodies, I turned the corner and spotted Registration on my left. I pushed open the heavy glass door and approached the counter. The scent of a vanilla candle drifted in the small office. It was pleasant. Maybe after I get paid, I might buy a candle for the house. But I could do without the swarming students crowding the small space. I eyeballed the woman behind the counter. She must be going through a mid-life crisis. The vibrant pink hair screamed for attention. Pink hair was cool on a teen, but a middle-aged woman, not so much. I leaned my elbows on the counter and spoke up. “Excuse me!”

The woman’s head snapped up and smiled. “What you need, honey?” She rushed her words. I spotted her name tag pinned to her chest: Mrs. Suzie Brown.

“Yes, ma’am. I need to enroll. I have my transcript and ID.” I pulled out my papers and handed them over to her.

“Mercy me! You’re late.” Mrs. Brown glared at me as if I’d committed a carnal sin.

“Yeah, sorry,” I swallowed, feeling flushed. “My mom couldn’t come. She started her new job at Mudbug Café. She’s a waitress.”

Without another utter, Mrs. Brown placed her specs on the bridge of her nose and examined the forms. Then cut her gaze back at me. “Have a seat!”

“Oh… Okay.” I was taken aback. She abruptly turned, heading off to a computer placed in a corner on the far back counter. Dread washed over me as I watched her punch keys. Trouble was embarking. I felt it down to my toes.

I turned from the counter to have a seat when I smacked into a student. The girl’s books went flying as I stood there, gaping at the books puddled around my feet. “Whoops!” I yelped. The chick must’ve been peeking over my shoulder for me to have slammed into her. Whata weirdo! I paused a moment, eyeing her. Then my brain kicked in, and I rushed to apologize. “Hmm, sorry, I didn’t see you.” I bent down with the girl to help gather the books.

“It’s okay,” she smiled, loading her arms full of books. “Hey, you’re the new girl that the town’s been talking about!” The girl’s voice was far too chipper for the morning.

“The town’s talking about me?” I handed her a book and stood up. I shoved my hands in my pockets. Something about this chick’s vibe made me uneasy.

“I hope you’re settling in nicely?”

I shrugged. “So far, so good.” If I told her how I felt, she’d have the whole school throwing spit-wads at me. I could spot her type a hundred miles away the greeter girl. Very bubbly, way too much neon green, a good thirty pounds overweight, and the smell of desperation to ignite the fuel that pushed her into the overly excitable girl.

the greeter girlShe tossed that sugarcoated smile that I’d seen so many times at previous schools. “You should come and hang out with me. I can give you the scoop on all the juicy gossip. Little things like who’s cool and who’s not.”

“Cool!” I forced a smile.

“What’s your schedule? Maybe we have classes together.”

I nodded toward the counter. “I’m just registering now.”

“Wow! You’re late.”

“That’s what I keep hearing.”

“You’re a rebel,” she giggled.

I shrugged, not responding.

She reached over me and snatched up a flyer about the next pep rally. “Well, I hope we have a class together. If not, I’ll catch you at lunch. I’ll introduce you to the pack.”

“Thanks,” I answered. Uncertain if I wanted to be lumped into her clique of friends.

“By the way, I’m Sally Freeman.”

“Stevie Ray,” I replied.

Her nose wrinkled. “Isn’t that a boy’s name?”

“It’s a nickname.” I got that stupid question often. Dad gave me the nickname. I kept it as a reminder of him.

“Bless your heart! You must get picked on a lot having a boy’s name.” She tossed a tight smile. “Gotta go! Later!”