Page 7 of Hunted by the Fallen
“Oh… um…” I search my head for any reasonable excuse. Even if I came up with one, Annie’s expression tells me she is not going to let me out ofthis.
I exhale and ask, “What do Isay?”
Annie and I spend the next five minutes formulating the perfect text to send Preston. After denying her more forward suggestions, we finally settle on apologizing for my flaky behavior, and proposing we have lunch sometime this week. I send the text and slip the phone into my back pocket and we leave the office. I’m thinking of how I’m going to apologize to Mr. Lee for taking an unplanned break when my phone vibrates with an incomingmessage.
Like a bat with sonar hearing, Annie is at my side, “Is it fromPreston?”
I seriously doubt Preston would’ve responded so quickly. I’m sure he had better things to do than wait around his phone all day. With that thought, I retrieve my phone. The device nearly slips out of my fingers when I read “Preston McKenna” on thescreen.
Annie squeals from over my shoulder. “Oh! What did hesay?”
My thumb hovers over the message, debating whether or not it’s smart to open the message with Annie there to see. If Preston declines my offer, I’ll get over it, but I’m not sure I want Annie to know rightaway.
“Come on, Ronnie!” Annie whines in my ear. “Openit.”
Holding my breath, I open themessage.
Lunch sounds great! How abouttomorrow?
I read the text three times before the information finally sinks in. Preston still wants to go on a date with me—even though I cancelled on him. I can’t believeit.
It doesn’t take Annie near half as long to understand the text. “You’re off tomorrow, Ronnie. Tell him you’rein.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” I offer lamely. Sunday hardly seems like a day for a date. Then again, lunch is a pretty casual date. I shake my head, realizing I might be overthinking it. My fingers move against the screen and I type myreply:
Sounds good to me. Where should I meetyou?
Preston’s response isimmediate:
I’ll pick you up if that’s alright? 12work?
Behind me, Annie swoons. I roll my eyes at her dramatic reaction, but inside I’m just as affected by Preston’s gesture. I’ve never been on a date before, but romantic movies always made the guy picking up the girl seem like the gentlemanly thing to do. In today’s world, it’s less common for a guy to be chivalrous, making Preston’s offer that much nicer. It makes me like him a littlemore.
Irespond:
See you at12.
Four
“Focus,Veronica. Try again. Train all of your thoughts and energy on the beetle. Will it back tolife.”
I grit my teeth and wipe the sweat from my forehead. It’s Sunday morning. I had another crappy night of sleep, full of demons clawing over one another to get to me and drain me of blood. Despite my fatigue, Adrian refused to cancel our morning trainingsession.
“I’m trying,” I tell him, “but nothing ishappening.”
“Then you aren’t trying hard enough,” Adrian counters. There is no malice in his voice, only a statement offact.
I bite the inside of my cheek. I ignore the taste of blood and center my attention on the beetle in the cardboard box. Ever since I brought my mom back to life, the angels have insisted I try to practice using the new ability in addition to training with my other angelic abilities. Hence, I am forced to stare at a beetle. My task is to heal the insect’s internal injuries and bring it back to life. But after thirty minutes of staring at the dead bug for the third day in a row, I am beginning to think my mom’s miraculous healing was a one-time thing. I’ve tried to say as much to Adrian, but he will have no part in it. And unfortunately for me, he is the angel who has taken my training upon himself. The other three angels do not even try to interfere, meaning I am all on my own when dealing with the frustratingangel.
I stare at the insect until my eyes dry out. I groan and hang my head. “I can’t doit.”
“Are you giving up?” Adrian’s tone drips withdisapproval.
My eyes snap up and lock onto his. “It’s been days.” And the only thing that’s made the beetle move is thewind.”
Adrian crosses his arms, pressing his muscles against his chest. “I didn’t take you for aquitter.”
I scowl. “I’m not quitting. I just need a break.” Immediately, I hate that I fell into Adrian’s trap. We may have just met two weeks ago, but the angel already knows how much I hate being accused of quitting. I’m stubborn to afault.
