Angel Boy

Questions.

    “Hello, Tyde.”

   Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, my eyes looked away from Levi’s. My fingers started spinning the silver ring around on my middle finger; a nervous twitch.

   “Levi.” Despite the nervous feeling that was swimming around in my gut, my voice came out strong.

   Out of my peripheral vision, Levi smiled, his face lighting up. “So you know who I am.” 

   I scoffed. “Everyone knows who you are.”

   Glancing at him sideways, his nose scrunched. “I wouldn’t say that.”

   “Of course not, you’re way too modest.” My voice dripped sarcasm. 

   Levi let out a hum, staring at the side of my face. My cheeks became hot, my brain growing confused to why I was feeling the way I was. I don’t feel self-conscious around guys. If anything, they feel self-conscious around me. But not Levi. No, he was much more complicated, much more than a pretty face. 

   I watched as Mr. Wimbley scuffled around the room, passing out a worksheet that he held in shaking hands. As he made his way to where we sat, a question popped into my mind. “How do you know who I am?”

   Levi smiled, tapping the side of his nose with his pointer finger. A sign for it’s a secret. 

   Looking back down at the fake wooden desk, I rummaged through my brain of how he knew who I was. Other human students probably mentioned my name. Or it was because of the price that came with my last name, showing my family background. Levi was wearing SW jeans. 

   When Mr. Wimbley reached us, Levi grabbed the two papers, passing me one. I quickly took it from him, avoiding his long fingers at all cost. My eyes skimmed over the questions. Questions that had to deal with “getting to know our partner” better. My face slightly scrunched, thinking of how we weren’t in our elementary days anymore. 

   Levi grabbed a pencil, starting to write his on top the paper. I half expected his writing to be sloppy and barely legible--like most guys--but he was a Bird. He was perfect, and so was his almost calligraphy style writing.

   His hand whipped out a cursive L, taking up most of the name slot on top of the sheet. He quickly wrote out E-V-I, then in a scribbling manner, he wrote his last name, the only letter manageable to read was the G.

   His autograph.

   That’s why the writing of his name looked familiar and the speed he could draw it out. He’s appeared on TV and in magazines, he was nominated for the Sexiest Male Angel last year, of course he would have an autographed name. I wondered how much the simple piece of paper could be sold for now that it had Levi Godfrey's name on it.

   Tearing my eyes away from his almost hypnotic movements, my hand quickly scribbled down my name, it was nowhere as neat and elegant as Levi. Then again, I didn’t have an autograph. 

   Levi leaned in, his warmth radiated off his sculpted body and onto my shoulder, flowing down to my leather jacket covered arm. 

   “Tyde Summers,” he said my name, suddenly making me thankful for my jacket covering the goosebumps that exploded on my skin. “SummerWinter,” he said next, “I should’ve known it was you when I first saw you, you look just like your mom.”

   I gripped the pen in my hand tighter, my teeth grounding together. The words sounded like a screech when my mother’s clothing brand left Levi’s mouth. 

   My chest should’ve swelled with pride, I should’ve smiled and nodded my head and took honor in the idea of the multi-million dollar clothing line for Angels my mother had started when she was twenty. I mean, that’s what normal people would do, right? Everyone wanted to be rich, and knowing that I was enthroned with the lavish life, I wasn’t happy. I was far from it. I was spoiled, I got everything my heart yearned for. But deep down, in the dark, lonely crevice of my heart, I was truly unhappy.