My Fallen Angel

Chapter Fifteen: No More Secrets

            It felt like I carried the sky. That’s how I felt when Patrick stared at my wings.

            My mouth was open and my stomach felt as if an ice was running down at it. Patrick stared at my wings then to Aeriel’s. Then to Charisse’s and Bella’s. When he saw Bella’s face, he took a step backward, dropping the Coke he was holding. “Oh shit. It’s you,” he muttered, pointing his index finger to Bella.

            Immediately, Bella’s eyes flared. “Don’t swear! One more word and I’m going to blow you up to dust!” she said in a dangerously low voice. She turned to me, her eyes blazing with anger. “Kate! I thought you said this place is secure!”

            This time, it was Aeriel’s turn to get angry. “She never knew Patrick would cut class!” she retorted, turning to Patrick. “Why are you here? Do you know you still have classes?”

            But Patrick didn’t reply. He was staring at our wings like it was the strangest thing he had ever seen on his life. Then he shook his head, rubbed his eyes and looked at me straight in the eyes. His eyes were shouting for explanation. “Kate! What is going on? Am I going mad? That’s it, right? I am?”

            “Patrick… listen to me,” I said in my best soothing voice. It was kind of hard. He was looking at me as if I was a ghost or something—very much not a person he loves. The very thought made me sad. I turned to Bella. “Should I tell him?”

            Bella was silent for a moment then sighed. “Fine. Patrick is not an entirely good person. But I sense he could keep a secret.”

            “What if he tells anyone?”

            Bella’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’m going to blow him up.”

            I took a nervous gulp and turned to Patrick again. Gosh, Bella is really dangerous. “Patrick, listen to me…”

            “Let’s give them some time alone,” Charisse suggested. Aeriel and Bella agreed. Together, they flew up and disappeared at the grey skies.

            Patrick was staring at them, his mouth wide open. Then he looked down to me. “Kate,” he said my name as if he doesn’t know me, “who are you? More important what are you?”

            It took a lot of power not to cry. That will make me weak. I managed a nervous smile. “L—let’s sit down?” I suggested and sat down on the make-shift couch. The couch where Patrick told me his story. And now, I’m going to tell mine.

            As we sat down, Patrick took a deep breath and looked at me straight in the eye. “Pinch me.”

            “Huh?”

            “Pinch me. So I would wake up in this damn dream!”

            “Patrick, this is not a dream. This is r—.”

            “So what are you?” Patrick snapped, his expression shouting for answers. “Tell me, Kate! What the hell are you?!”

            On that point, I cannot take it anymore. Tears streamed down my cheeks in a flash. For a few seconds, I was sitting there, quietly crying my eyes out. Then Patrick came to his senses and put his arms around me for a hug.

            I hugged him back, putting my hands around him and my head on his chest. I tried very hard not to soak his shirt but I accidentally did. It must be three minutes after when he let go of me and looked at my puffy red face. “I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have. I’m… I’m so sorry.”