Don't Call Me Angel

Angel 16

Lavender White sat cross-legged on her bed, flipping through a magazine while waiting for the pizza to arrive. The events of the past few days had left her exhausted, but she felt a strange sense of anticipation. Ambrose Cunningham, the last person she ever expected to let her guard down around, was coming over. The knock on her door jolted her out of her thoughts.

"It's open!" she called, setting the magazine aside.

Ambrose stepped in, carrying a large pizza box. His usual stern expression softened just a fraction as he looked at her. "Hope you're hungry."

"Starving," Lavender replied with a smile. She moved over, making room for him to sit on the bed.

They sat side by side, the smell of pepperoni and cheese filling the room. Ambrose opened the box, and they both grabbed a slice, eating in comfortable silence for a few moments.

"So," Ambrose said between bites, "have you figured out who wrote the note yet?"

Lavender sighed, wiping her hands on a napkin. The note he referred to had been left under her pillow a few nights ago, a cryptic message warning her to "watch her back." She'd been trying to piece together the mystery ever since.

"No, not yet," she admitted. "I've been thinking about it a lot, though. It could be anyone. This place is full of people who'd love to see me fail."

Ambrose frowned, his dark eyes narrowing. "You think it's someone from here? Someone at the camp?"

"Could be," Lavender said, reaching for another slice. "I mean, we're all here because we're on our last chance, right? Everyone's got something to hide."

Ambrose leaned back against the headboard, a thoughtful look on his face. "What about Celeste? She seems to know a lot about everyone."

"Celeste?" Lavender shook her head. "I don't think so. She's been a good friend to me. Besides, she acts dumb, but she's really smart. If she wanted to mess with me, she'd do it in a way I wouldn't see coming."

Ambrose nodded slowly, taking in her words. "What about Josh?"

Lavender paused, considering it. "Josh is... complicated. He's a thief, sure, but he's got a good heart. He steals from the rich to give to the poor, you know? Like some kind of modern-day Robin Hood."

Ambrose raised an eyebrow. "And you don't think he could have written the note?"

"I don't think so," Lavender said. "It just doesn't seem like his style. Besides, he was really freaked out when I told him about it."

Ambrose was quiet for a moment, then he asked, "What about me?"

Lavender looked at him, surprised. "You? Why would you write the note?"

Ambrose shrugged, his expression unreadable. "I don't know. Maybe to test you. See how you'd react."

Lavender shook her head. "No, I don't think it was you. You're too straightforward for that kind of game. If you wanted to warn me about something, you'd just tell me."

A faint smile touched Ambrose's lips. "Maybe you're right."

They finished their pizza in silence, the weight of the unknown hanging between them. Lavender's mind raced with possibilities, trying to make sense of the situation.

"You know," Ambrose said after a while, "we could always try to find out together. Two heads are better than one, right?"

Lavender looked at him, surprised by his offer. "You'd help me?"

"Why not?" Ambrose replied with a shrug. "I've got nothing better to do. Besides, it's in my best interest to keep you safe."

Lavender smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Thanks, Ambrose. That means a lot."