The Angel with Papery Wings [prequel]

ch.17 In the papers

I wanted to ask Angie what was wrong, but whatever it was, I was afraid it might bring back not-so-pleasant memories. And the last thing I wanted was to make Angie cry.

We half ran back to the house. Our house. I really didn't have any right to call it my house, but it felt much more like a home than anything I've seen in the past two years.

Angie and I reached the house and Danny smiled as he opened the front door.

"Hey little butterfly," he grinned, squeezing Angie's cheek. Angie smiled and headed up to her room to change. She smiled at me faintly, just before she closed her bedroom door.

I stood with Danny. He glanced at my arms, but I was watching Angie, in case she turned around and asked me to get her something.

"What's your work out schedule, Harry?" Danny asked randomly. I focused on his biceps.

"Oh. Well, I used to train nearly everyday, back in--" I stopped myself in mid sentence. Danny watched my face casually. "Back at home," I lied. It wasn't a complete lie. Sergeant made me do drills nearly every day and night.

"That's pretty intense, bro," Danny nodded. Bro...Danny patted my arms and walked me to the basement, where I assumed they kept their excercise machinery.

Danny didn't expect me to admit anything from my past. He didn't expect me to explain the story of my life. He just wanted to know when I worked out. That's what I like about Danny. He doesn't ask more than what's needed. He's not sneaky or cunning; he prefers to trust people, until they've given him reason not to be trusted. I glanced up at the stairs, where Angie had stood moments ago...

Danny offered me sweats and shorts. I've had to borrow a lot of clothes from him these past few weeks, which was really generous of him, but his clothes were always loose on me. I didn't complain, of course, that would be kinda rude; a guy gives out of his way to let me stay in his home and I get picky about what clothes he provides me with?

I glanced at the staircase, wondering if Angie might come down. I wanted to know if she was talking with Becky on the phone or if she wanted to eat Sour Cream chips or practice her part in the recital.

Back when I was in jail, I worked out as often as possible because it helped me forget about Sam while also doing something in her name. I worked out to try to impress her. I worked out to make my body strong enough so my weak heart could stop loving a girl that used me. Sam used me and my innocence, but for some stupid reason; if I saw her again, I would take her back in a heartbeat.

"Fifty reps," Danny grunted as he lifted two weighty dumbells. I hadn't even realized all the sweat dripping down Danny's forehead and neck. He had taken his shirt off and sat hunched over, trying to catch his breath.

All I had done was sit there, staring at my hands, thinking about Angie and Sam.

"You alright, Harry?" Danny asked carefully. He tried to pat my shoulder comfortingly, but failed awkwardly and kept to himself.

"Yeah," I lied. I can't tell Danny how much I care about Angie, how I'm the best thing for her, but also how my presence will eventually corrupt her. Danny seems quite simple minded-- not in a bad way, but he's definitely not the brightest guy I've met. I don't want to confuse or freak him out by trying to explain how I felt about Angie. I didn't even understand how I felt.

"Girl issues," Danny spoke up. Damn. Never mind. Danny's got some quick wits.

I held my breath, in case I muttered either Sam or Angie's name.

"H-how did you--"

"It's obvious, Harry. I get the same way when I'm thinking about Gem- when I'm thinking about a girl," Danny explained cautiously. I could have sworn he was about to say "Gemma," but I had no idea why he would mention my sister?...