Grounded! More Confessions of an Angel in Training (9781310362958) Page 2

  “Just sayin’. She wouldn’t.”

  I scrunch my pillow into a ball, briefly pretending it’s Faith. She won’t look directly at me, but she says says to Mercy, “Anyway, it's not too surprising that you don't see halo to halo. I mean, who ever saw a Virtue and as Guardian as friends?”

  That dig really gets under my skin, mostly because it’s true. “Maybe we don’t see halo to halo because I’m the only one in this room who got one.”

  Mercy’s face collapses, and Faith runs one hand through her hair and holds out the other with an envelope. “Oh, Grace, I almost forgot. This was in our mailbox.”

  So typical of her, to stir up tension and then act like everything is peachy keen. I take the envelope. It’s fancy and embossed with a gold seal from L'Academie.

  On my last Mission, Finn, the little brother of my Assignment showed me the proper way to remove a bandage. Close your eyes and rip it away quickly. That’s what I do with the envelope.

  Yep. My schedule. I never expected to get one of these again. Here’s what my next few months will consist of:

  First period -- Angelic Powers. Hmmm…not too bad, and I should get a decent grade.

  Second period -- History of Guardians. Yawn.

  Third period -- Seven Deadly Sins. Oooh. Interesting.

  Fourth period -- Universal Theory. Great. A class with every other kind of angel designed to make Guardians feel more insignificant.

  Fifth Period -- Human Psychology. That might be okay.

  Sixth Period -- Choir. Why in the name of every Archangel, especially Gabriel, am I in this class? Is it part of some Divine Plan that I should endure such torture? How will this ever help me be a better Guardian? And, my numero uno question is, why does it have to be my last class? I'd much rather have it first and get it over with.

  Attached to the schedule is a note from Gabriel that mentions I have an appointment over in Paradise to pick up a robe at The Tabernacle. I need it for the first day of classes. That’s convenient, since I want out of here.

  “Well, I have to head out. Robe for Choir. Hope the workshop is good for you,” I say to Mercy, but she never looks up from her packing. I wait. She’s still angry about my halo comment. But, you know what? I’m still angry that she thinks I should change my declaration. A little time in space should cool things off. “See ya, Mercy.”

  “Don’t forget, you should stop at the bookstore and get your texts, too.” Faith adds in her typical bossy manner.

  Confession: I’d like to send Faith into orbit.

  }{

  The streets on my way to Paradise are the same as they’ve always been—crystal, shining, spotless, and edged in brilliantly colored flowers. I’d always taken these surroundings for granted until my Mission on Earth made me aware of how extraordinarily beautiful Heaven is.

  Over at the Gates of Paradise, aka The Pearly Gates—which, by the way, makes absolutely no sense, because they're gold. Okay, so the handles have Mother of Pearl on them, but still, I think they should have been named The Golden Gates.

  Just my opinion.

  But nobody asked me.

  Anyway…like I was saying. Over at the Gates of Paradise, two unsmiling Cherubim protect the entry. From what, I don't know. They are huge in that don’t-mess-with-me way, one super tall and the other muscled to the point that his military-style uniform seems stressed. I guess the ever popular robe and sandal look isn’t quite threatening enough.

  “Halt!” the tall one says, a hand and both wings raised in a menacing way.

  I’m not super fond of menacing, so I do. Halt, that is. “Hi. I’m Grace, and Gabriel sent me over here to pick up a robe.” I smooth a wrinkle before handing them the note.

  The stocky one admonishes me. “You’re early.”

  For once I’m not late, and somehow I still get in trouble. I crack up, on the inside only, because Cherubim are not known for their sense of humor. On the outside I smile sweetly. “I wanted to make sure I wasn’t late.”

  “No loitering. Proceed directly to your destination,” is how he replies over his shoulder as he opens the Gate.

  From where I’m standing, I can already see the Tabernacle about two blocks up on the left. Its spires climb high, high, high into the cloudless sky. “Sure. Thanks,” I reply, just happy to be through the checkpoint.

  Because I’ve got time to kill, I stop to smell the roses. Literally. There are hedges with roses, and flowerbeds with lilacs and tulips and Lilies of the Valley and Birds of Paradise, so aptly named. It’s quite beautiful here. On my right is a courtyard, with tiny gingerbread-trimmed shops. Cute! I bet a lot of souls like to pass the time here. If I stop for a sec, will it be loitering? Nah, more like looking around. I glance back at The Pearly Gates, and it seems like the Cherubim are looking right at me. I give a little half wave.

  Nothing.

  Seriously, what did I expect? That they’d salute me? Maybe I’d better keep going. After a few more halting steps, I look back again, and this time they’re busy processing another Angel. I slip into the courtyard, out of view. A little café with outdoor tables and bright umbrellas is tucked barely inside the entrance. Boy, do I miss the food on Earth. My heart twinges as if it had been plucked, not for the food but for Tara, and Finn and the others from my Mission.

  Oh, look! Over there’s an adorable boutique named Nostalgia. I’m definitely feeling like that—missing Earth. One quick peek should be fine. And before I know it, I’ve stepped inside.

  The place is a jumble, infusing my sense with others’ memories. Scented candles and corsets and Pet Rocks and an old map of the Universe with the Earth at the center of it. Mercy would love that. I consider buying it then stop. She’s not even speaking to me, and besides, she’s got her head in the stars at the moment. Under the map on a shelf is a golden—well, I’m not really sure what it is—a golden decoration? Rounded on the top, delicate metal bars on all sides, a teeny little door and latch.

  So pretty. So fine. So…huh?

  I startle out of my daydreamy haze. Someone is standing directly behind me. Human? Cherubim? Please don't let me be caught. Maybe if I stand still enough, the person will keep walking. Please.

  A long arm reaches over my shoulder and points at the map. “They had it right back then.”

  OMG! I turn, and the arm encircles my waist pulling me close in an embrace. Victor!

  I’m like a root beer float, fizzy and bubbly and sweet. “What are you doing here?”

  He smirks and raises one eyebrow. “That’s a better question for you. I work here now.” Then he lowers his voice by an octave and gives me a stern look. “Shouldn’t you be proceeding directly to The Tabernacle?”

  “What? Are you a Cherub now?” I can’t quite tell if he’s teasing me.

  “Do I look like a Cherub?” he asks, pretending to be indignant.

  I think, Hell, no, but don’t say that. “You look good to me,” is my answer instead. And he does. He’s still tall and tan with sun-bleached, caramel hair and warm, chocolate brown eyes. Today he’s wearing a pale yellow security tee with jeans. He looks simply divine.

  His eyes skim over me, head to toe. “Yeah, you look pretty good to me, too. I saw you when you stopped at The Gate and figured you might not be able to resist this shop. It’s one of my favorite places in Paradise. You can find anything here.”

  Even you?

  “I know, right?. Look at all this stuff.” I wave my arms around to take in the whole store. “I don’t even know what half of it is. Like, what’s this for? It’s beautiful.” I ask, pointing to the gilded decoration I’d been admiring when he showed up.

  A look of alarm crosses Victor’s face. “You think a bird cage is pretty?”

  “That’s what it is? Why would anyone cage a bird?”

  “Exactly,” is all Victor says.

  I can see the subject bothers him, and while I’d like to know why, I’m a lot more worried about his status. I move one step closer and look up, directly into his eyes. “So,
no more Missions for you?”

  He moves one of my unruly curls away from my eyes. “That would be harsh. No, this is only a temporary Assignment. Eventually something will happen and people will start praying and I’ll be back in business.”

  I always knew people called on us when things got bad, but never considered how disasters increase faith. Why don’t they call on us in good times, too? “It seems sad when you say it like that.”

  His mouth twists into a mirthless smile. “It’s our job.”

  “So what do you do here?”

  He doesn’t say anything. At his point we’re practically touching. There’s hardly any space between us, and he takes even that away. I gasp. “Right now, I’m talking with Grace Lightbourne. It’s quite nice.”

  I’m pretty sure I glow when he says this. Without the aid of my halo. “That’s not what I meant.”

  His crooked smile seems wistful, and he takes a step back. “My seniority got me a primo Assignment. I serve at the Arena. Every night is busy, but I can usually catch a song or two.” His eyes light up, and a bad-boy grin spreads across his face. “You should meet me tonight. Three of the guys from Lynyrd Skynyrd are playing and, oh, you gotta hear when they sing ‘Free Bird’.”

  It sounds very, very tempting. After all, he’d told me all about concerts last year and had promised to take me one, which never happened because I finished my Mission and came back to Heaven, only to end up stuck here for infinitude. Even so, is this a good idea? He hasn’t tried to reach me, and this probably breaks a rule or thirty.

  “I don’t see how I could get through The Pearly Gates. They were pretty strict with me and I’m supposed to be here.”

  Victor laughs while resting his hand on my waist. Whoa! The warmth of it may leave a permanent mark. “You definitely can’t just walk in. There’s a staff entrance behind this courtyard and Valor—he’s the Cherub who guards it—owes me a favor. I’ll meet you there at twilight.”

  It’s like my heart and head are in the Battle of Armageddon. “Let me think about it.”

  “You’ll love it. I promise.” Victor takes his hand off my waist, and I’d like to put it back. “You must be so bored here without a Mission. I’m surprised they’re letting you work in Paradise.” He takes one of my curls and twirls it with his finger.

  That feels nice, too. As he tucks the curl behind my ear, I say, “I’m not working over here, I’m…what time is it?"

  “Just past noon.”

  Great Balls of Fire! I came early and now I’m late. “I gotta go.” I try, unsuccessfully, to keep the panic from my voice.

  Victor grabs my hand before I can make a dash for the door. “Okay, but you’d better meet me at twilight. Even if you won’t let me take you to the concert. We need to catch up.”

  I agree just so Victor will let go of my hand, and then I’m speeding out of the shop and across the courtyard, running behind, as usual.

  }{

  The Tabernacle is locked. Why do they have such a strict schedule? And a better question is, why does it seem like I screw up everything?

  Confession: Because I do.

  To make myself feel better, on the way out of Paradise, I try to pick a rose and get stuck by its thorns. So, I pick a handful of Sweet Peas instead. When I get back to the dorm room, I stick them in a tall glass of water.

  “Where’d you get those? I’ve never seen them before,” Faith asks.

  I stay mum, wishing I were a better, quicker liar, while I fan the flowers into a spray.

  “They’d better not be from Paradise; that’s cause for wing-clipping.”

  I shudder at the thought.

  It’s a miracle when I manage to ignore Faith for the reminder of the afternoon, with the exception of two times that she jangles my bell. The first is when she chides me over not getting my books or robe. Like I don’t know this already. The second is when I find out we have two classes together. I’d expected there’d be other AITs in Universal Theory, but didn’t think I’d have to put up with Dominion superiority in any of the others.

  “Why in the name of all that’s Holy are you taking History of Guardians?”

  “Humans pray for Guardians, and I’ll be part of the decision-making process. You know, who ends up with who.”

  Noooooooo! She’s going to decide my Missions? Why, Lord, why?

  “If you’d paid better attention during our third year of school, you’d already know that.”

  I bite my tongue and turn on HVEN TV. Loud. To drown her out.

  }{

  As the sun starts to set, I give my hair a quick brush and put on a little lip gloss I brought back from my Mission with the Murphy’s. As I pocket the key to the room, Faith says, “Where are you going?”

  “Can’t you ever mind your own business?” I reply, which makes Faith get all well-I-never huffy. “I’m going to get my books. Happy now?”

  “The bookstore closed an hour ago. Face it, you’ll have to go to the first day of classes without them. If only you had listened—”

  I close the door on her scolding. Seriously, I know I’m not perfect, but she might live a little if she’d take a tip from me. Riiiight. Like a Dominion would ever listen to a Guardian.

  My trip to Paradise this evening seems faster. When I get to the road that leads to the Gates of Paradise, I step off the main path and skirt along the edge of Quadrant Three, searching for the staff entrance Victor told me about. Finally I see a small street light glowing and head in that direction. A Cherub seems to float out of the dusk. He’s built like a bear, a sturdy torso with short legs.

  My palms are sweating and my knees feel like they might buckle. Victor isn’t waiting for me like he promised, and if this isn’t his friend I’ll need a cover story. Like I said, I’m not good at on-the-spot.

  “Are you Valor?” I ask with a quiver in my voice.

  “Grace?”

  I sigh in relief. He’s expecting me. “Yes.”

  “Victor couldn’t make it. He had a complication. He said I should let you in and show you the fastest way to the Arena.”

  A complication? What does that mean? I don’t feel much like going to the show without Victor, and I can hardly believe he stood me up.

  But he did.

  The realization makes me feel so heavy-hearted. Even if I had my wings I probably wouldn’t be able to get off the ground. I turn and hurry back toward the main road, calling over my shoulder, “That’s okay, maybe another time.” My pride hopes I don’t run into Valor around Heaven. He must think I’m a sad little trainee.

  This was a bad idea from the beginning. What was I thinking? Oh yeah, that’s right: VictorVictorVictor. Sigh. I haven’t been gone for long, so Faith will still be awake and I’ll have to put up with her I told you so, because I still won't have my supplies for class tomorrow. As I come up the path that leads to the school, dreading the face-down with Faith, I notice a light in the bookstore. That’s weird. I wonder what’s going on.

  On the front door there’s a sign that reads:

  Open.

  Please Come In.

  (That means you, Grace.)

  Ha-ha. Even I can understand that sign. The bell chimes as I open the door, sounding like the organ Gabriel uses. The shop is like a miniature version of The Hall of Records with books stacked three or maybe four stories high. A frail, elderly Angel is behind the front desk. He’s got a salt-and-pepper (but mostly salt) speckled beard. “Oh, good thing you made it. I was about to close up shop.”

  This is more than weird. It’s a freakin’ miracle!

  “Thank you! I’ll just be a sec.” I rush around the store, picking up the texts for each class, but after looking everywhere I can’t find one. I head back to the desk with my pile. “Do you have what I need for this class?” I ask, pointing to my schedule.

  “Of course.” He sprouts an enormous pair of wings, so big that they look like they might tip him over. Then he grows to two times larger and zooms straight up like an elevator. He hovers, pluc
ks a book from a shelf, pops his wings inside and jumps straight down for a landing. Who is this guy?

  “That was fun. I love to free fall like that. Here you go.” He hands me the book then rubs his beard, making a scritch, scritch sound.

  I look at the text—Killing the Seven Deadly Sins. It sounds so violent, but that’s the book I was missing.

  “I’m glad you made it here in the nick of time, but it’s too bad you missed the concert tonight, Grace. I love when they play ‘Free Bird.’”

  How does he know about that? “Thank you, uh…what was your name again?”

  He places the texts into a big silver shopping bag. “I never said it, but I have many names.”

  Yikes! Could it be? “Is one of them, by any chance, The Big Kahuna?”

  He laughs and then winks. “One of my favorites. Oh, and I’ve got one more thing for you.” From under the counter he grabs a small silver bag. Inside is the blue choir robe I need for Gabriel’s class.

  I bow my head and mumble, “Thank you.” Then, “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Why are you doing this? I mean, why did you help me if you knew I’d been over in Paradise?”

  “That’s a good question. You’ve had a tough day, haven’t you? A lot of ups and downs?”

  “Yes. Mostly downs.”

  “That’s what I thought. And because I’m forgiving and loving I thought it would be nice to help you out. But that's not the only reason.”

  “What’s the other?”

  “I can’t wait to see the face of your roommate Faith when she finds out she was wrong. I always have a chuckle when Dominions forget that all things are possible.”

  Wow! I’m going to enjoy that too, even more with knowing He’ll be watching.

  Chapter 3

  Walking into L’Academie de Divinité—aka Angel School—on the first day of classes brings a flood of memories. There’s the sweet-acidic smell of desk cleaner, the rumble of AITs talking on the way to class, the separate hallways for underclassmen and each of the hierarchies, from Seraphim to Guardians. I can’t believe I’m back where I started. It’s like the last three months never happened, like I only dreamed them.