The Angel Series Collection - Books 1-3

Dreams and Dreamy Boys-2

“Yeah, later,” I answered dryly. I watched the girl disappear into the assemblage of students. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something peculiar about that girl.

“Miss Ray!” I flinched, bouncing to my feet. Mrs. Brown’s high pitch voice set me on edge.

I stepped up to the counter, feeling my face pale. “Yes, ma’am.” Showing respect might get me off with a slap on the wrist. I smiled brightly into the woman’s lemon face.

“Young lady, your transcript shows you’ve been to five different schools in the last year. Can you explain this?”

“My mother has to move a lot for her job,” I answered sweetly. I hate questions. Always questions. “I can call her if you like?” I flitted my lashes. Of course, I lied.

Mrs. Brown drew her specs to examined my transcript. Then she caught my gaze. “Your mother is a waitress?”

Uh-oh! Caught lying. “Humm, that’s right. The insurance job laid her off.” I shifted in my feet.

“Where is your mother now?”

I held my hands clasped behind my back and slightly widened my eyes just enough to appear innocent. I had this act perfect. “My mom couldn’t come today. Conflicting schedule,” I smiled, hoping she’d buy my bluff.

“Wait here, miss,” she snapped, and before I could protest, she torpedoed down a short hall, leading to buntuck Egypt for all I knew. This wasn’t fair. Why didn’t she drag Sara down here and ask her all these questions? It was Sara’s fault.

I bit my bottom lip, stretching my eyes in the direction Mrs. Brown had darted off to. Eighteen was legal. I could home school. Then I thought, no! I needed a scholarship to help pay for my college and a high GPA to get into better universities. With a reluctant sigh, I planted my feet, waiting to get hauled into the dungeon master’s chamber… the principal.

the principal.After several internal meltdowns, my eyes homed in on the high heels echoing across the tile floor and growing louder by the second.

“Miss. Ray!” Mrs. Brown brusquely spoke, a bit winded. “Come with me, please.” I loved the way she bit out that last word, “please.” Nothing was pleasing about the walk of doom.

pleasepleaseI followed her fast-paced steps down the same short hall. We stopped at the door that read, Principal, Dr. Ed Van. The hairs on my neck bristled. I knew this walk far too well. I’d set foot many times in the principal’s office. Mrs. Brown opened the door and stepped aside, letting me enter. A strong whiff of a pipe perfumed the air, and memories of my dad fluttered through my mind. When I was a child, Dad would take me to his small office in town. I’d sit on the floor coloring while he smoked his pipe, working on his clients’ cases. He was a well-loved and respected attorney in a small Oklahoma community called Eufaula. To this day, I associated the scent of a pipe with Dad.

Principal, Dr. Ed VanMrs. Brown cleared her throat, jarring my attention. “Dr. Van, this is Stephanie Ray. Her voice appeared fisted with unease.

“Come, Miss Ray. Have a seat.” An older man spoke in a raspy voice sitting behind a large desk, pointing to a chair, directly in front of his desk.

I realized this was not your typical principal’s office. The chairs were dark brown, real leather, and his desk reminded me of something you’d see in the Oval Office at the White House. Dark mahogany finished with tooled leather inserts on top and brass fittings embellished the edge. Such an elaborate style on a principal’s salary. “Yes, sir.” I settled in the chair on the left and placed my hands in my lap, hiding my jitters.

“Well, Miss Ray, it has come to my attention you have quite a list of attending schools. I forget the number. How many?”

Instantly, I didn’t like this man. I answered, “Five.”

“Can you tell me how you’ve managed to keep your GPA at 3.9?”

Did he doubt my credibility? “Sir, I don’t understand the question.”

“I think you’re stalling, Miss Ray.”

“Every grade I’ve made, I have earned.” Ire was starting to tingle my spine.

“That’s quite remarkable, or should I say impossible?” He leaned back in his chair as his smothering eyes churned with mistrust.

“My mother can address your questions concerning my school attendance.” I blamed Sara for this. I wouldn’t be sitting here under the heated snare of a principal if it hadn’t been for her incessant need to town hop.

Dr. Van’s was as ugly as Rumpelstiltskin, a deeply wrinkled face. It was evident that he’d been smoking for years.

“Your mother is not here,” he countered. “I’m asking you.”

you“Sir, I gave you my answer.”

“Considering your unstable home life, it raises doubt as to how you’ve obtained your scores.”

“Have I warranted cause for this interrogation?” It was evident that he harbored some sort of ill will toward me.

“It depends,” he answered, not entirely quenching my thirst for clarity.

I had to reel in my temper and play nice. I inhaled inwardly. “Dr. Van, if you’re implying that I’ve falsified my scores, I’ll be more than happy to take any test you wish to provide.”

Dr. Van’s eyes hardened as he ripped my transcript in two and dropped the remains in the trashcan. “Miss Ray, here at Tangi High, you will be required to prove your worth.”

I gawked with disbelief. “That’s my transcript!”

“Yes, it was.” Dr. Van’s voice spewed with loathing. “Now prove to me you are the superb student you claim.” I flinched as he glared at me through his thick eyewear. “Yes, sir, I’ll do my best.” I tried to hide the disdain in my voice. I took pride in my work, and it chafed my butt when someone questioned the validity of my achievements.

“We shall see,” he gritted through his stained teeth. “That will be all, Miss Ray.” He dismissed me, leaning back in his chair. There was something strange about this principal. It was almost as if he had a hidden agenda behind his words. I shrugged it off. It wouldn’t be long before Sara would be ready to move to the next town, and I’d soon forget my worries with him. In the meantime, I planned to steer clear of this madman.

Shaking off the dust from that demented interval, I glimpsed at the hall clock. Only three minutes to get to class before the tardy bell sounded off, so I ran. English was my first class in the morning. It wasn’t my favorite, but at least I’d get it out of the way. West wing, first left, Mrs. Brown had instructed. I hooked several corners and finally stumbled upon the room, one-oh-two. I quickly pushed past the door and came to a quick halt. I half expected an empty chair next to the teacher, but I didn’t anticipate this. My gaze landed on the greeter girl, Sally. She was sitting in the far back row, waving her hands in the air like a person sinking in quicksand. I raked my eyes over the classroom. Just my luck, only one vacant desk behind Sally.

thisI dragged my feet down the back row and forced a painful smile, catching her glint. “Hey,” I mumbled as I flopped down in the chair. I glimpsed at the desk behind me. A black coat hung over the back of the chair. Dang! Someone had already snagged it. I had no other recourse other than sitting next to the greeter girl.

“I’m so glad we have English together.” She twisted in her seat, facing me, rattling about this and that. I mostly nodded, tuning her out. I think she was babbling about the football team. It made me think about Logan, and my heart dropped. My first crush and I never got to kiss him. I pulled my book out and shoved my bag under the desk. Sally continued to ramble on about much to do with nothing. She was like background noise, only louder.

I think Sally had changed to her fifteenth topic when he swaggered in as if he owned the place. Even Sally had quieted to ogle the boy. It seemed that every eye in the room drew to him.

heSally leaned over and whispered while not taking her sight off the eye candy. I kept my eyes lowered behind my lashes. “He’s the new menu,” she revealed. “His name is Aidan Bane. I hear he’s rich too! Of course, every girl in school hopes to land him! Rumors, yonno,” she giggled.

“Thanks for the heads up,” I shrugged. Gossip didn’t bother me. Sara and I never stayed long enough anywhere for gossip to affect us. I reckoned there was a silver lining to our constant drifting.

Taking a quick peek, the new boy was a looker. Not someone you’d often see in these parts. Polished and well-groomed. The city type. The dude carried himself with that rock star quality that commanded others to sit up and take notice. Considering his towering height, he stood out with his raven curls. His dark and mysterious blue eyes appeared cold. One baleful glance could freeze the Sahara Desert. I summed him up as a snob, definitely not my type.

A girl had caught his full attention as he leaned closer, fully invested in their conversation. He flashed a cocky grin revealing straight white teeth. A nice contrast against his tawny skin. My neck bristled, watching the girl smile sweetly into his face. Why did I care? He was an empty soul. By the end of the day, the girl would be long forgotten and a notch on his belt. The boy was an easy read. The smell of wealth exuded off him. With his designer clothes, his cool swag, and charm, he had every girls’ head turned, but not one name would caress his lips the following day. Yeah, I had his number revered by every girl and envied by every boy. I reckoned that was life in the fast lane of a heartless rich boy.

When I caught tall-dark-and-arrogant etching his way down my aisle, I rushed to doodle on my book cover, my eyes glued to my book. Then I remembered the black hoodie hanging on the back of the seat behind me. “Jesus!” I mumbled to myself. I slid down in my chair, steadily drawing. Don’t look up! Don’t look up. I chanted internally.

Don’t look up! Don’t look upIn the next tick, a soft breeze grazed my left shoulder, followed by a quick thud and a male’s soft groan as the desk protested under his weight with a sharp squeak. A woodsy scent drifted over my shoulder. I bore down on the ink, homing in on my drawing, determined to ignore his presence.

Unaware, a sudden tap on my shoulder alerted me. I ignored the boy, hoping he’d go away. But he persisted, giving a yank on my ponytail. I squawked, swiftly grabbing my hair as I spun in my seat to confront him. I had full intentions to go ham-bone on the boy until our eyes collided. All at once, my mind drew and blank. I’d gotten caught in his blue-eyed snare like a fly trapped in a web.