Milayna (14 page)

I skipped swim practice that afternoon. I didn’t want to see Muriel, and since she gave me a ride to school, I was forced to ride the bus home. I hated the bus. It smelled of rotten lunches and body odor, with vomit thrown in to round it all out. I walked toward the dingy, yellow bus when he called to me.

“What are you doing, Milayna?”

“I’m not going to swim practice today. I’m catching the bus home.”

“I can see that,” Chay said. “But why?”

“Muriel was my ride.”

“Ah. C’mon.” He motioned with his head. “I’ll give you a ride.” My heart started thumping.
Yes, please!

“Are you getting on or not?” the bus driver yelled over the rumbling engine.

I shook my head. She closed the door and gunned the engine. The gears groaned when she shifted into drive and slowly pulled away, leaving Chay and me standing in a cloud of gray exhaust.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to trust you,” I said, following him from the bus line to the student parking lot. There were just a few cars left. His yellow car stood out like a beacon. It almost glowed in the afternoon sun, and I had the stupid thought that it was the perfect car for a demi-angel. It looked almost like a halo.

“I said you don’t know who you can trust. I didn’t say you couldn’t trust me. Let me have that.” He lifted my messenger bag off my shoulder. I grabbed it by instinct. He tapped my hand on the strap with his finger and grinned. “I’m just going to carry it to the car. You don’t have to worry about me stealing your chemistry homework.” He chuckled. “I have my own.”

I smiled and let go of the strap. “Sorry, reflex. I’m not used to having people carry my things.”

“Jake doesn’t carry them for you?”

I laughed. “You’re the spy; you tell me.”

“Spy?”

“Following me around.”

“Ah. I don’t follow you all day. I have other people to watch.” He grinned, and the sting of jealousy hit me. Who else was he watching? A girl? Why did I care?

I don’t care. He can watch a hundred girls… it doesn’t matter to me.

Yeah, keep lying to yourself, Milayna.

“No, Jake doesn’t carry my books. He carries Heidi’s.”

“The jock and the cheerleader, typical. But you like him.” Chay spun his keys around his finger.

“What?” I wanted to cover my face with my hands. I could feel the heat of a blush crawling up my neck to my face and burning my ears. Blotchy red face, red hair… not a good look with fair skin. If Bozo the Clown had a daughter, I’d be her.

“You like Jake. It’s obvious by the way you look at him.”

I’m that obvious? I wonder if I was that obvious to Jake.

“He’s okay,” I said, trying to think of a way to change the subject.

Chay snorted a laugh. “Just okay?”

“Yeah. Since we’re being so nosy today, who do you like? Whose books do you carry around during the day?”

“Yours, evidently.” He smiled at me, his blue-green eyes twinkling.

“Other than right this minute, whose books do you want to carry during the day?”

He shrugged a shoulder and looked straight ahead, not answering.

“Fair is fair, Chay. You know my secret crush, or, well, not-so-secret crush according to you. Now you have to tell me yours.”

“I’m not one of your girlfriends spending the night playing truth or dare. I don’t have to tell you shit,” he snapped.

I laughed. “That bad, huh?”

“No. Actually, she’s amazing.” There was that green-eyed monster again, smiling at me, taunting me. Jealousy raced through my veins, dragging knives against the sides, cutting me open. I cursed myself for asking. I didn’t want to know, because I was beginning to see the truth. My crush on Jake was over. There was another guy in town.
Chay
.

He held the passenger door of his car open for me. I slid in. Throwing my bag in the backseat with his, he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. I watched him move. So graceful—an odd way to describe a guy. I never thought of one as graceful, but Chay’s movements were fluid, easy. He seemed comfortable in his own skin, at ease with himself and who—what—he was.

He climbed into the car, and I immediately wished I’d taken the bus home. Even though it reeked, it was better than the smell in Chay’s car. It was all him. His clothes, his hair, his cologne. I was hyperaware of him. My breathing sped up, and I gripped the armrest so tightly my fingers ached.

Trying to distract myself, I looked around the car. Pop cans and burger wrappers were thrown haphazardly on the floor in the backseat. Piles of folders and papers were stacked on the seat. CDs and his iPod were stuffed in a cubbyhole in the dashboard, and his cell phone was dropped in a cup holder. When I looked up, he was watching me.

He grinned. “I know—it’s a sty.”

“I didn’t notice it when I rode with you to the mall.” I laughed.

“That’s because I cleaned it out.” I raised an eyebrow and stared at him. “Okay, I threw everything in the trunk, but it was clean in the car.”

Wait. He cleaned it? Did he plan for me to ride with him?

Chay’s car rumbled to life. He shifted into drive, sat for a moment, and then shifted back into park.

“You wanna go get something to drink? You don’t have to be home yet, do you?”

“Um, sure. We can go somewhere and get something.” My heartbeat increased even more, though I didn’t think that was possible. I was sure it was going to give out from exhaustion any second. There was no way it could keep beating that fast and not suffer irreparable damage.

“What do you feel like?”

Kissing you.
I paused and bit the corner of my bottom lip.
Whoa!
“How about a milkshake?” I said, and then cringed.

A milkshake? A milkshake, really? How nineteen-fifties can I get? Geez, way to wow him with your über sophistication, Milayna.

He smiled. “I knew I liked you for a reason. I love milkshakes. Well, ice cream in all forms. And I know just the place to get the best milkshakes in town.”

Wait, he likes me? Like, he likes me, likes me or just likes me?
“Okay, let’s go.”

He shifted into drive and pulled out of the parking lot. I looked out of the window as we drove through town and forced myself to watch the buildings pass by instead of staring at him. According to him, I wasn’t able to keep my crushes a secret, so I decided looking at him would be a mistake, because I was pretty sure I was crushing on the guy.

Unfortunately, my eyes had a mind of their own and traveled to him more than once. And occasionally, I’d catch him glancing quickly in my direction. Neither of us spoke, but we couldn’t help the tentative smiles that touched our lips. When the corners of his mouth lifted in a grin, my toes curled and my stomach felt like it was free falling.

We pulled into the parking lot of a little ice cream shop. He got out and jogged around the car to open my door. The awkward feeling was back. No one had ever treated me that way, carrying my books and opening doors. Even past boyfriends hadn’t done that.

Chay held the door to the ice cream shop open. It was a simple place. The back wall, the first thing I saw when I walked in, was lined with a counter-high freezer full of dozens of flavors of ice cream.

“Some of them are made here. You can’t get them anywhere else,” Chay told me.

“Wow, Ben and Jerry’s better watch out, huh?”

At the front of the store were booths and tables, all done in red vinyl and shiny metal. The floor was black-and-white checkered tile. There was a jukebox to my right. Nineteen-fifty’s nostalgia hung from the walls and neon signs directed you to the bathrooms, the cashier, and proclaimed
Uncles
the best ice cream in Michigan. It was the coolest place I’d seen.

An older man behind the counter greeted Chay. “It’s been a couple of days since your last ice cream fix. I was worried something was wrong. You here for the usual?” A broad smile broke out across his face.

“Hey, Uncle Stewart. Yeah, hook me up with the usual, please. How are things?” Chay asked with a grin.

“Good, good. How are things with you?” He lifted one bushy eyebrow and his gaze darted in my direction. “Who’s your friend and why is someone so beautiful hanging around with the likes of you?” he teased.

“Uncle Stewart, this is Milayna. Milayna, this is my Uncle Stewart. He owns the place.”

“Hi.” I reached out to shake his hand.

“It’s a pleasure,” he said, turning my hand over to kiss the top. I felt a blush crawl across my face, and Chay’s uncle smiled. “Call me Uncle. Everyone does. Now, what can I get you?”

“A chocolate milkshake, please.”

“Well, now, that’s Chay’s pick, too.”

Smiling, I felt the blush grow deeper.

I watched as he mixed the milkshakes, squirting lots of whipped cream on them and plopping three cherries on top of each.

“Here we go. Two chocolate milkshakes, extra whipped cream, and three cherries, because Chay is spoiled.” Uncle grinned, and I laughed. Chay rolled his eyes. I took out my wallet to pay, and Uncle just stared at me. “Family doesn’t pay here, dearie.”

“But I’m not—”

Family? He’s an angel. But how did he know I was a demi? Do I put out an aura or a beacon? Does he have angel radar? Is that even a power?

“Yes, you are.” He winked. “Enjoy your milkshakes.”

“Thank you.” I smiled, and Uncle gave me a wave.

“Let’s sit outside.” Chay held the door open to the patio area.

We walked to the white café tables at the side of the building. They were shielded from the sun by cheery, yellow-and-white striped umbrellas. When Chay pulled my chair out for me, I decided he was really starting to freak me out. He had this whole
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
or
The
Stepford Children
thing going on.

“You don’t need to pull my chair out and open doors for me.”

“Yes I do.” He sat across from me, stretching his long legs out. They brushed against mine, and I gripped the Styrofoam cup so hard that I had to force my hand to relax before I crushed it.

“It’s not like we’re dating.”

“That’s just how I was taught.”

Oh. Of course he’s doing it because that’s how he was raised. Why else?

“Your uncle is nice.” I stirred my shake with the straw.

“Yeah.”

“He’s one of us, isn’t he? An angel. That’s why he called me family,” I asked quietly.

“He’s a demi.”

“Oh. So… ” Silence stretched between us, and I fumbled for something to say to fill it. “Tell me about yourself.”

He looked at me and quirked an eyebrow. “Why?”

He’s perfected the art of one-word answers.

I shrugged one shoulder. “Just trying to start a conversation, and it seemed like the thing to ask.”

“Do you always have to talk?”

I sighed. “Never mind.” I took another drink of my shake.

“Only child. My dad’s an angel, my mom’s not.” He shrugged. “That’s about it.”

“Wow. You really have a thing about answering questions with as few words as possible.” He glanced at me, and I smiled.

“So? What about you?” he asked.

I managed to keep a straight face when I said, “Oh my gosh, you started a conversation. I should probably look for aliens. They may have probed you and pushed the words right out!”

Chay snorted a laugh, and milkshake bubbled over the rim of his paper cup. “Okay, I admit I don’t have the ability to talk nonstop like some people.” He wiped milkshake off his hands with a napkin.

“Ah, is that so? I hadn’t noticed,” I said. He smiled around his straw, and I had to hold back a sigh. “Okay, well, I have a younger brother Benjamin. My dad’s the angel. He’s a police officer, and my mom’s an accountant.”

“Yeah, I knew your dad was with the police department. So is mine. There are a lot of angels and demi-angels who are on the force. That’s why we can call the police when there’s a fight with the Evils or demi-demons and they don’t get suspicious—a lot of them are angels, too.”

“You’ve fought a lot?”

“Too much.”

We fell silent, drinking our shakes. I watched the cars drive past, counting them—anything to distract me from staring at Chay. When I glanced at him, he was staring at me.

“Good milkshake,” I said, scooping the last few drops out of the cup.

“Ready?”

“Yeah, I need to get home. Lots of chemistry homework to do.”

“He really piled it on today, that’s for sure.” He ran his hand through his hair. “If you need a study partner…”

“Sure. Um, if I get stuck, I’ll text you.”

He nodded and smiled. “Yeah. That’s what I was gonna say.”

We were quiet on the drive home. Chay broke the silence when he pulled into my driveway and slipped the gear into park. “I want to have another group meeting. Can you come over tonight?”