Page 39 of Halo


  Soon I was standing on the soft lawn of Xavier’s house. I crept around to the back of the house where Xavier’s bedroom was. His window was open to let in the night breeze, and his bedside lamp was still on. Xavier was lying with his chemistry book open across his chest. Somehow sleep made him look much younger. He was still wearing his faded sweatpants and a loose white T-shirt. One arm rested behind his head, and the other had fallen by his side. His lips were slightly parted, and I watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest. His face was peaceful, as though he didn’t have a single care in the world.

  I retracted my wings and silently climbed inside. I tiptoed closer to the bed and reached out to lift the book from his chest. Xavier stirred but didn’t wake up. I stood at the end of his bed, watching as he slept, and suddenly felt closer to Our Creator than I ever had in the Kingdom. There in front of me was his greatest creation of all. Angels may have been created as watch guards, but I felt like I could sense in Xavier a great power—a power to change the world. He could do whatever he wanted, be whoever he wanted. Suddenly I realized what I wanted most in the all the world—it was for him to be happy—with or without me. So I got down on my knees, bowed my head, and prayed to God—asking Him to bless Xavier and keep him safe from harm. I prayed for his life to be long and prosperous. I prayed for all his dreams to come true. I prayed that I would always be able to connect with him in some small way—even if I was no longer on earth.

  Before leaving, I took a final look around his room. I took in the L.A. Lakers flag pinned to the wall, read the inscriptions on the trophies that lined the shelves. I ran my fingers over the objects scattered on his desk. A carved wooden box drew my attention. It looked out of place amid the boyish belongings. I pulled it forward and slowly opened the lid. Inside, the box was lined with red satin. In the center lay a single white feather. I recognized it immediately as the one Xavier had found in his car after our first date. I knew he would keep it forever.

  Epilogue

  Three months later things had settled down and were more or less back to normal. Ivy, Gabriel, and I had worked to heal the town and the students at Bryce Hamilton so that the terrible afflictions they had experienced or witnessed were reduced to nothing more than hazy, fragmented images or words that were unable to be linked together in any kind of logical sequence. Xavier was the only one granted full access to the memories. He didn’t bring them up, but I knew he hadn’t forgotten—would never forget. But Xavier was strong; he had dealt with enormous pain and grief in his young lifetime, and we knew he wouldn’t buckle under the extra burden.

  As the weeks passed, we managed to fall back into our familiar routine, and I’d even made progress with getting back into Bernie’s good graces.

  “On a scale of one to ten, how close am I to being totally forgiven?” I asked Xavier as we walked to school in the morning sunshine.

  “Ten,” Xavier said. “I know my mom’s tough, but how long do you expect her to hold a grudge? It’s all in the past now.”

  “I hope so.”

  Xavier reached across and took my hand. “There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

  “Except for the occasional demon,” I teased. “But don’t let that put a damper on things.”

  “No way,” Xavier said. “They were crashing our party.”

  “Do you ever worry that they might show up again and everything will fall apart?”

  “No, because I think between the two of us, we’ll always manage to put things back together.”

  “You always know just what to say.” I smiled. “Do you rehearse those lines at home?”

  “It’s all part of my charm,” Xavier winked.

  “Bethie!” Molly ran to catch up with us as we reached the gates of the school. “What do you think of my new look?” She twirled around, and I saw that she had undergone a complete transformation. She had dropped the length of her skirt to below the knee, buttoned her blouse up to her chin, and fastened her tie neatly. Her hair was pulled back in a severe braid, and she had discarded all of her jewelry. She was even wearing the regulation school socks.

  “You look like you’re ready for the convent,” Xavier said.

  “Good!” Molly seemed pleased. “I’m trying to look mature and responsible.”

  “Oh, Molly,” I sighed. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Gabriel, would it?”

  “Well, duh,” Molly said. “Why else would I walk around looking like such a loser?”

  “Uh-huh.” Xavier nodded. “High marks for maturity right there.”

  “Don’t you think it’s better to just be yourself?” I asked.

  “Her true self might scare him,” Xavier remarked.

  “Oh, shut up.” I slapped his arm lightly. “All I’m saying, Molly, is that Gabriel has to like you for who you are. . . .”

  “I guess,” Molly hedged. “But I’m happy to change; I can be whoever he wants me to be.”

  “He wants you to be you.”

  “I don’t,” Xavier began. “I want you to be . . .” He broke off with a laugh as I elbowed him.

  “Could you at least try and be helpful.”

  “Okay, okay,” Xavier said. “Look, girls that are fake or try too hard are a major turnoff. You need to chill and quit chasing him around.”

  “But don’t I need to show him that I’m interested?” Molly asked.

  “I think he knows.” Xavier rolled his eyes. “Now you have to wait for him to come to you. In fact, why don’t you try dating another guy . . . ?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “See if Gabriel gets jealous. The way he reacts will tell you everything you need to know.”

  “Thanks, you’re the best!” Molly beamed at him. She yanked her hair loose, tore open her buttons, and ran off, probably in search of some poor boy to use as her prop in the master plan to win Gabriel’s heart.

  “We really shouldn’t encourage her,” I said.

  “You never know,” Xavier replied. “She might be Gabriel’s type after all.”

  “Gabriel doesn’t have a type.” I laughed. “He’s already in a committed relationship.”

  “Humans can be strangely tempting.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said, standing on my tiptoes to affectionately nibble his earlobe.

  “I’m afraid that’s inappropriate behavior for the schoolyard,” Xavier teased. “I know my charm is hard to resist, but please try and control yourself.”

  We parted in the halls of Bryce Hamilton. As I watched him walk away, I felt a strange sense of security that I hadn’t experienced in a long time, and for moment I truly believed that the worst was over and behind us.

  But I was wrong. I should have known it wasn’t over, couldn’t be over quite so easily. No sooner was Xavier out of sight than a little cylinder of paper fell from the top of my locker. As I unrolled it, I knew I’d see black calligraphy crawling across it like a spider. Dread settled around me like a fog as the words burned into my brain:

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The Halo series is a project in which I have invested much emotion and energy. But it couldn’t have been done without the contribution of the following people:

  My agent, Jill Grinberg, for being so enthusiastic and totally believing in the story.

  My mother, for her support as well as her ruthless honesty.

  Jean Feiwel, Liz Szabla, and the team at Feiwel and Friends, for devoting so much time and energy to this project.

  Lisa Berryman, for having mentored me since age thirteen.

  My inspirational principal, Dr. David Warner, for his understanding of young people and their dreams.

  Special thanks must go to Matthew DeFina (Moo-Moo), for his invaluable insight into the male psyche, for his considered answers to my endless questions, and for making me smile when things got too hard.

 


 

  Alexandra Adornetto, Halo

  (Series: # )

 

 

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