Fallen Stars

Chapter Two

When I was young, my mother told me not to do what others expected of me or else they would start expecting too much. This is exactly why I never tried to impress anyone, and also why I seldom got asked out. But here and now, for whatever reason, I feel like I should try to impress Blake.

"I have practice after school, ya know?" I say, trying to sound tough, as we jog down the halls of Blue Creek High.

"What kind of practice?" Blake asks with a questioning look on his face.

"Track." I say, panting.
"Well, obviously you need the practice. But that's going to have to wait." Blake says while trying to cover a laugh.

As we reach the parking lot of the school, I wonder what kind of vehicle Blake drives. Probably some bad ass car, a Hummer or a Mustang. Surprise fills me when Blake comes to a stop at a silver Honda Civic; so not what I was expecting.

I get in on the passenger side and fasten my seatbelt.

"Blake, what about my mom? Does she know about this? Has she known all along and never told me?" I ask once Blake is situated and has turned on the car.

We pull out of the parking lot and onto a long, straight road leading into town. Minutes pass and Blake gives me no answer.

"You said you would answer my questions;" I look at him,"What about my mom, Blake?"

Blake thinks for another moment, and as he does a hard line shows on his forehead.

"Your mother is safe as long as you're not here. She has been notified that you've witnessed a crime and you're under watch of the government. Once we get where we're going, you'll be able to contact her. Briefly, of course."

Sadness fills me. My mother has been the only permanent guardian throughout my life, and leaving her just like my father did seems wrong. Then, a thought occurred to me.

"Who was my father, really?"

Blake pulls the car over. So much for being in a hurry. He gives me a long, hard look before attempting to answer my lingering question.

"Your father was a very powerful archangel. Some believe he was the only archangel. He is commonly known as Michael." He says quietly, staring at the steering wheel.

A long pause fills the vehicle. How is that possible? Michael was a very important and highly known angel, says the bible. He battled with those angels who had fallen with Satan, and also Satan himself.

"And his wings were torn out?" I ask, finding it hard to believe.

"According to my sources, yes. They're rarely wrong, yet it does seem unlikely that the higher ups would cast him down for committing one sin." Blake says as he pulls the car back onto the road, meaning the serious portion of our conversation is over.

I decide to hold the questions off for a while and just relax for the silent car ride.
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Several hours, a ferry ride, and four toll booths later, my stomach realizes it's lunchtime. I ask Blake to stop so we could eat, but he insists on eating in the car to save time.

We pull through the drive-thru Wendy's of a small town somewhere in Montana, and I order a strange amount of food for one teenage girl. This earns a strange look from Blake, but I quickly brush it off. I'm sure he won't want to stop again for the rest of our trip.

As we eat our lunch, I begin to ask Blake some.. Personal questions.
"So how old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Where are you from?"

"I'm not comfortable answering that, Cassandra."

Why the hell not? This guy seems to know everything about me, my age, where I live, and my strange parentage.

"Why won't you tell me? Are you an angel like my father? Or something else.. Like me?"

Blake doesn't answer. For a while, that is, because I soon drift off to sleep.
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