Jennifer Murgia: Angel Star

Why hadn’t anyone else noticed my fall? What was that horrible black smoke that, in the pit of my stomach, I knew didn’t come from the buses? And how was it that Garreth had gotten there just in the nick of time?

Regardless, I owed Garreth a lot. Maybe even my life.

I couldn’t help this connection, this attraction that was hitting me like a sledgehammer on the top of my skull.

Maybe I had an overactive imagination and I was gullible enough to believe Claire and her recommendation that I needed a boyfriend. I shivered at the thought of my bizarre day. So far, the only worthwhile part was Garreth. Deep down, I knew this crazy dream wasn’t just a dream anymore. It was haunting me — and letting someone in on it would be absolutely boy repellant. Maybe a boyfriend wasn’t the answer. I needed protection.

The truth was, I needed a life.

I was inwardly laughing at myself when I realized the bus had been stopped for several seconds and a half-dozen sets of eyes were boring holes into my head.

The bus had reached my corner and the driver was now directing an impatient stare at me from the gigantic rear view mirror.

I grabbed my iPod and my backpack and hauled myself quickly down the aisle toward the front of the bus, carefully avoiding the stares of the other kids who were now beginning to whisper in low, hushed voices. I mumbled, “Sorry,” to the sadistic driver and made my way down the steps to the curb without killing myself in my haste. I would have to speak with Claire about arranging permanent transportation from now on because there was absolutely no way I would ever ride the bus again.

I woke up bright and early the next morning. My dreams of Garreth had been blissfully uninterrupted — no dark wings — and I found myself energetic and eager to make myself look decent for school.

Garreth Adams.

He was unlike any of the other boys I knew from school.

For one thing, he carried himself with a level of maturity that ninety-nine percent of the boys in my school seemed to be lacking. He was polite, thoughtful, chose his words carefully, and no matter how sure of himself he appeared to be, he was cautious and I admired that. I thought of his deep-blue eyes and his strong jaw, the way his hands pushed his hair out of his eyes.

Instantly, I felt my cheeks warm.

With Garreth in mind, I sneaked into my mom’s bathroom, raiding the medicine cabinet for mousse, gel, and shine spray, not having a clue how to use any of them. I was intent on transforming myself into something slightly more than ordinary, a task I was taking on blindly. A rather ordinary face, however, reflected back to me in the bathroom mirror, along with strawberry-blonde hair, light highlights from a box, a somewhat-clear complexion, save for the freckles that multiplied yearly, and green eyes so light they were almost the color of water and framed by thin, very light-colored eyebrows and lashes. I was often told I was pretty, but somehow the mirror always seemed to lie to me.

I sighed, not convinced the wild array of cosmetics would do any good but I was determined to try. My next victims, the drawers, silently waited and I pounced on them, excitedly uncapping lipstick tubes and popping open eye shadow cases. I felt like a kid in a candy shop.

I bounced downstairs with unusual enthusiasm, catching my mother’s shocked look. This was quite a switch from my absentmindedness of last evening when I simply couldn’t help my thoughts being elsewhere.

“You look beautiful, sweetie.” She eyed me suspiciously, though her compliment was honest. “Big day today?”

“Hey, Mom. Just in a good mood. I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed some of your makeup. Did I tell you we have early dismissal today?”

“I have to work until five, Tea. It’s Friday.” I knew I had blown her away with my chattiness.

Breakfast time usually consisted of a) silence, b) the occasional sleepy caveman grunt, or c) silence. I tried not to look her in the eye over my bowl of cereal since I could feel her staring at me and I could sense her jaw must have dropped a mile at my attempt to look like a normal seventeen-year-old girl. I only hoped she wasn’t perceptive enough to guess it had something to do with the opposite sex, though I had my doubts. A familiar honk faintly sounded outside. Claire to the rescue!

“See you later, Mom!”

I rinsed my bowl and dropped it into the sink, then grabbed my backpack and was out the door in a split second. The mental picture of my mother speechlessly staring at the door stuck with me and I wondered briefly if she needed medical attention.

I opened the door to Claire’s white Cabrio and hopped inside. Pink was in the CD player and the car was saturated in the scent of the new vanilla-roma tree hanging from the mirror. Claire was rechecking her porcelain complexion then turned in my direction. The look in her eyes mimicked my mother’s.

“Do I know you?” She feigned seriousness. “I only give rides to people I know. Please step out of the vehicle and back away slowly.”

I let out a small chuckle.

“On second thought,” she continued, “who are you and what have you done with my friend?” Claire took my hand in hers and examined my palm with exaggerated interest.

“Aha! Madame Woo says makeup is good idea for landing hunky new boy at school. It also serves as a good disguise for riding the bus again. No one will recognize you.” Her eyebrows wiggled up and down.

“You’re a nut!”

“You look great!” She was definitely thrilled to acknowledge my attempts to look beautiful. “I never understood why you never wore makeup. Hmm. I guess all it takes is a boy.”

I faked a look of innocence, but as the seconds passed the look on Claire’s face showed me I had no chance of pulling the wool over her eyes.

“Is it that obvious?” My voice suddenly a timid whisper.

“Only to me.” Claire smiled knowingly as she shifted the car into gear and headed down Church Street.

“Today, you’ll look like the new girl in school and Garreth Adams won’t know what hit him.”

I smiled to myself as I looked out the window at the passing houses. I could always count on Claire to boost my confidence.

“By the way.” The devilish smirk lingered on her face.

“Do you think your mom will let me borrow that lipstick?

” The sunlight streaming through the moonroof was warm and comfortable and so I allowed last night’s dream of Garreth to sneak into my thoughts once more before school. It was the first pleasant dream I could clearly remember in a long time and I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. His eyes, the deepest ocean blue, peered out from beneath his hair. He smiled radiantly as my heart pulled toward him and then he faded, as if my dream was revealing to me what it truly was. Just a dream.

Then the mist cleared slightly, revealing him once more as he held his hand out, beckoning me to join him. I stepped forward, momentarily blinded by the beautiful colors swirling around me. As I reached out to place my hand in his, the air quickened…electrically charged…static. I stared in wonder as the lines on his upturned palm swirled into a single, continuous thread and transformed into a beautiful eight-pointed star before my eyes, formed from beginning to end in one graceful, sweeping motion. Endless. Gateless. Eternal.

Garreth spoke my name softly and the moment I stepped into the mist I knew I was in heaven. Though reluctant to let the dream fade, I forced it to the back of my mind and tried to focus on the day ahead of me.

Claire was singing along to the next track. “Sorry about yesterday. Did you get home okay?”

“That’s a topic you and I have to discuss. I made it home okay, but public transportation is truly humiliating.