“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?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I just want to see what the general feel of the group is about Lily,” he said “How ‘bout six?”
“Okay, I’ll see you then.” He walked around and opened the car door for me, grabbing my bag out of the backseat.
“Thanks for the milkshake.”
“Sure.” His eyes followed his movements as he slipped the strap of my messenger bag up my arm and settled it on my shoulder. When his fingertips slid over the side of my neck like a feather, I sucked in a sharp breath. His gaze shot to mine.
I wrapped my fingers around the strap of my bag. “Thanks.” I gave him a shaky smile. “I’ll see you later.” Turning, I walked up the path to my door.
***
At six o’clock, my dad drove me to Chay’s. He wouldn’t let me walk alone, and Muriel wasn’t home. He dropped me off and waited, watching me through the windshield as I climbed the porch steps and walked to the door. I pushed the doorbell, smiling when I heard the University of Michigan’s fight song start to play. Go Wolverines!
Chay lived in a beautiful home with a wraparound porch and baskets of ivy hanging over the bannisters. The front was lined with bright fall mums; their smell hung in the air. I was admiring the flowers when the door opened.
“You must be Milayna,” a man about my dad’s age said. He was tall like Chay and had the same dark hair. It was even cut the same—short on the sides and a little longer on top.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, come on.” He smiled and opened the door wider so I could pass through. He waved to my dad before closing it after me. “They’re all in Chay’s room.”
Chay’s room! Oh, no, no, no.
My heart beat a little faster. I followed his dad through a large room full of overstuffed chairs and comfy-looking couches. A large flat-screen television, tuned to a classical music channel, hung on the wall.