Fallen Angel (5 page)
Authors: Heather Terrell
I tossed and turned for hours after our date. I was restless, both mentally and physically. My mind raced with replays of our evening together, while my body was plagued by a longing for Michael that even memories of his pushing me away couldn’t shake.
When I finally fell asleep sometime near dawn, I sunk back into my recurring dream. It started out on its normal course; I flew out of my bedroom window and into town. I made my usual pause at the village green and town church before heading out to the sea.
Before I could reach the rocky cliffs bordering the ocean, I noticed a clear blue light coming from a house near the beach—a serious departure from my dream’s customary path. It was the only visible illumination in the otherwise black landscape. Somehow my body knew precisely how to perform, and I streamlined my limbs to gain speed.
Within seconds, I neared the street and circled the perimeter of the house. I noted a few lit lamps in the empty family room and kitchen, but this was not the illumination I sought. Although the rest of the house seemed dark, I soon realized that the blue light came from an upstairs bedroom—Michael’s bedroom.
Michael sat at his desk, staring out at the sea. I couldn’t see the source of the blue light, so I flew close to his window. He looked so handsome and contemplative that I wanted to touch him. Even though he didn’t see me, I reached out my hand for him. But then the wind kicked up and begged for my attention. I watched as it whipped through the copse of apple trees in Michael’s backyard, violently rustling the branches and late summer leaves.
For a moment, I left Michael behind, and followed my undeniable compulsion to rise. My head tilted upward toward the sky, and my shoulders broadened as if I had wings unfurling. My eyes closed as the wind swept me into its arms, and the sky tugged me gently toward the heavens. I surrendered to the joyous feeling of flight and freedom.
But then my body lurched downward, tangling me in the apple trees. I looked down, expecting to see hands clutched at my ankles or sinuous branches wrapped around my calves. But there was nothing. Nothing except the earth keeping its hold.
* * *
The next thing I remembered was the phone ringing. I sat up with a start, surprised to see bright sunlight streaming through the slats of my window shades. What time was it? I groped for my clock, and couldn’t believe it was almost ten o’clock. I never slept this late, even on the weekends. I just wasn’t wired for it.
As I grabbed my things for the shower, I noticed the caller ID alert on my cell phone. I checked and saw that I had messages from Ruth and Michael. I could guess what Ruth was dying to talk about, but what did Michael want? To offer his sugarcoated excuses again? I didn’t think I could face either one just yet.
Instead, I made my way down the hall to my bathroom. I hoped a long, hot shower would help wash away some of the dream and the thoughts of Michael that started to creep back into my consciousness. After I dried my face and moved on to the thicket of my hair, I heard my mom call from downstairs.
“Ellie? Ellie, honey, are you up?”
I cracked open the bathroom door, and called back, “Yes, Mom.”
“Good, we need to leave in fifteen minutes.” Although my parents weren’t sticklers for church every Sunday morning, they did insist that we serve at a local soup kitchen on Sundays. They believed God was best worshipped by action, not words.
“I’ll be ready.”
So, there would be no long, hot shower this morning. But maybe a morning at the soup kitchen was exactly what I needed. Hard reality would wipe Michael right out of my head.
I raced to get ready, but my brush kept getting stuck in a particularly dense knot in the back. I tried to separate out the tethered strands one by one with a comb. When the knot refused to budge, I realized that something was holding the hairs together. Finally, I shook the object free to the floor and bent down to pick it up. It was a single leaf from an apple tree.
I lifted the leaf up to the bathroom light to be absolutely certain. There was no denying what it was. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been anywhere near an apple tree. Except in my dream. Last night.
I successfully avoided Michael on Monday and Tuesday. He tried to get my attention as I left a few classes, but I feigned obliviousness. I did not want to relive the humiliation of our date, and my raw need for him toward the end. In the light of day, walking around school, it was hard to believe I’d actually acted that way. Just to be safe, I kept Ruth by my side as a shield. She thought I was making too big a deal out of it, even after she heard what happened, but she supported me. As always.
By Wednesday, I didn’t see Michael waiting anywhere. At first, I experienced overwhelming relief that I could stop the playacting. But as the day progressed, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Even though I was still cringing over my actions and Michael’s response, I was drawn to him.
Following an after-school meeting on Wednesday, I walked to the town library by myself. Ruth’s yearbook meeting was running even later, so she couldn’t drive me. And truth be told, I looked forward to the short stroll in the crisp autumn air—alone. I needed some solitude to clear my mind of the all-encompassing thoughts of Michael and refocus on my neglected schoolwork.
I rounded a lazy bend in the road and spied the library a few blocks off. The library was a marble and granite confection from the eighteen hundreds, when the prominent millinery families still had money to spend on Tillinghast, and its founders had spared no expense on an entry staircase worthy of the building’s grandeur. I was just about to walk up its imposing steps when I spotted Michael’s car idling in the no parking zone in front of the library. Did he know I was coming?
Quickly starting up the stairs, I kept my head down. I reached out for the huge brass door to pull it open. I began to let out a sigh of relief, when I felt a hand on my upper arm.
“Please, Ellie. Just listen to me for a second.”
I couldn’t pretend any longer. Turning around, I stared into Michael’s pale green eyes. Keeping hold of my arm, he whispered to me in a rush, as if he was scared I’d run off.
“Ellie, I’ve never been more certain about anything than my feelings for you. In fact, they’re so strong that they shock me sometimes. I pushed you away the other night because I wanted you too much. And I was afraid I’d scare you if I gave in to my feelings.”
Michael stared into my eyes as he spoke, never wavering in his gaze or his words. His confidence made me feel doubly mortified. How could I have refused to give him a chance to explain over the past few days? I broke our connection and looked down at my feet. I wasn’t sure I deserved his persistence.
He put his finger under my chin and lifted my face so he could look into my eyes. But I kept them averted. “Ellie, you did nothing to be ashamed of on Saturday night. I wanted you, too. I slowed us down only because I wanted things to be perfect between us.”
My cheeks turned bright pink, and I continued staring down at the ground. “Me too, Michael. I was just so embarrassed. I’ve never behaved like that—felt like that—in my life, and then to have you—”
He placed his finger over my lips and whispered. “Shh. Ellie, I’ve never behaved or felt like that either. And I’m sorry I pushed you away.”
“Really?” I asked without shifting my gaze, too scared that if I looked at him he might just disappear like a character from one of my dreams or suddenly rebuff me again. Once again, Michael seemed just too good to be true.
“Really. Can we start again?”
Finally, I looked into his eyes. I smiled sheepishly and said, “I’d like that.”
Michael led me down the steep library steps to his waiting car and opened the door for me. As I waited for him to get into the driver’s side, I noticed a couple walking up the stairs to the library. Their attractiveness caught my attention at first, and then I realized that I recognized the girl. It was Missy. She was walking very close to a tall, blond guy who definitely wasn’t Charlie, the senior I thought she’d been seeing since last year.
The driver’s door opened, and Michael slid in. Before he said a single word, he leaned in to kiss me. The chaste action was a far cry from the night before, but the gesture helped assuage my fears and drove out all thoughts of Missy and whomever she might be dating these days.
“Do you mind if we drive down to the ocean? There’s a great spot where we can watch the sunset,” Michael asked.
“Sure, that sounds great.”
To my relief, Michael launched into safe topics like homework and classes during the drive to the shore. I hardly noticed the change in scenery because I was so engrossed in Michael. And happy to be back with him.
We pulled to the side of the road and got out of the car. Michael had parked at the flat top of a steep cliff that overlooked a beach. I crept over to the edge and looked down onto a picturesque cove that I’d never seen before, not in all my years living in Tillinghast.
“What is this place?”
“It’s called Ransom Beach.”
The sun was just beginning to descend. Its fall cast purple shadows over the white sand beach below. Michael grabbed my hand and started to lead me down a jagged trail cut almost invisibly into the cliff face. He directed us so expertly down the precipitous path that I realized he must have come this way many times before. In minutes, we scuttled down the rocks onto the sand where the cove’s huge, craggy boulders wrapped around us like a cold embrace.
Michael put his arm around my shoulder to shelter me from the moaning wind, as we watched the sun. We made small talk about how pretty it was, and then he asked quietly, “I’d like to talk about last night, if that’s okay.”
I stiffened and then tried to lighten the mood a little. “We haven’t talked about it enough already?”
He laughed. “Almost. I want to talk to you about the reason I think we respond so strongly to each other, Ellie.”
“You do?”
“Have you ever sensed that you were different from other people?”
I had to laugh again, and not just because he was acting so melodramatic. Looking up at him, I answered honestly. “If by ‘different’ you mean more awkward than most people, then yes.”
“Awkward? You’re kidding, right?”
I shook my head. Even though I found my gawkiness funny sometimes, I definitely wasn’t kidding.
“If you’re really serious, then you’ve got to understand that you are the only one who sees you that way. Everyone else sees you as smart and intimidating and worldly and pretty.”
I almost snorted with laughter, but then stopped myself. “Yeah, right.”
“Piper and Missy have been really friendly to you lately, haven’t they?”
“Yes . . .” I wondered how he knew and where he was going with his question.
“But they still ignore you sometimes, don’t they?”
“Yes.”
“Idiots like Piper and Missy seek you out at the same time they ostracize you because you scare them. They don’t know what to do with someone like you. Someone attractive and bright and completely uninterested in their games. Someone that they sense is different and special, but they don’t know in what way.”
I was genuinely shocked. “Come on, Michael. I already like you; you don’t have to flatter me. I am not different and special.” My parents had worked long and hard to make me feel smart and important and loved, but at the same time, were always careful to remind me that I was just a regular girl, just like everyone else. With responsibilities to other people and the planet.
“If only you could see how beautiful and unique you really are,” Michael said, and leaned in to kiss me.
The howl of the wind and the increasing chill receded as I lost myself to him. He wrapped himself around me and kissed me with rapidly growing intensity. Just like when we were in the gym and his car, I could only see and think and feel Michael.
Gently, so gently, he pressed me back into the sand. His kisses grew more insistent, and I enjoyed his mounting excitement. In a familiar motion, he parted my lips and ran his tongue along my tongue. He swept his tongue back into his own mouth and ran it along his own teeth, and I then felt his tongue lightly touch my own.
A metallic taste flooded my mouth. Michael had caused the slightest drop of his blood to drip onto my tongue. The sand and the wind and the cove disappeared, and I experienced a powerful flash—much stronger than I’d ever experienced before. I saw myself on that first day of school, walking down the hallway with Ruth after the episode with her and Missy. I watched as I whipped my head in Michael’s direction, and I couldn’t believe how I appeared. My pale skin and eyes looked striking against the sleek blackness of my hair, and my long, lithe body was outlined in a glowing light. As seen through Michael’s eyes, I was indeed beautiful, almost ethereally so.
Just then, the upper school hallway faded, and I saw another, more disconcerting image of myself. I watched as I elevated to Michael’s second-floor bedroom window and stretched out my hand in an invitation to flight. It was a scene from my dream.
I drew back from Michael’s kiss, and the image disappeared. Pushing myself up from the sand, I asked, “What was that? How did you know—”
“How did I know that you saw images like that? That you get insights into other people’s thoughts and feelings and baggage?”
“Yes.” I could barely breathe.
“How did I know that you dream of flying? And that, last night, you flew by my bedroom window in your dream?”
“Yes.”
“Ellie, I told you that you are different. We are different. And that difference means we are meant for each other.”
