Chapter Eight – Angel
“Look what my dad got me!” He ran over to me to sit with me on the front porch. Cleo was still in daycare. Mom said I’d have to be older to watch her myself during the summers. The item he carried with him was almost as big as him; he was a skinny kid.
Two years older than me, and I was ten. He had other friends, but being neighbors meant we hung out all the time.
Well, sort-of neighbors. Technically he lived down the street.
He sat down next to me, his hair a little too long. He pushed it out of his eyes, leaning the object onto his lap. “Isn’t it awesome?” he asked, a wide smile on his face. He couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“Does it work?” I asked, leaning closer to him to eye it up.
He gave me a look. “Of course it works. It’s a guitar. Even if the strings break, you can replace them.”
I didn’t know much about guitars or anything like that. I liked to sing; that was it. Our love of music was shared, only he preferred instruments. This particular guitar looked like it didn’t need to be plugged in anywhere. What did they call those? They had a name, but I couldn’t think of it.
“Play something,” I told him, and he did. Even though the guitar was too big for him, his fingers worked at the strings like I imagined a pro’s would. I listened to the notes he played, trying to put it together, and then it hit me: “Is that Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?”
“Uh… yeah.” He gave me a sheepish smile.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. It was just ridiculous to me that he’d get a guitar and only know how to play that song.
“Hey! I’ll get better. I’ll learn all about it and play you a whole set list.”
I didn’t know what a set list was, but I stopped giggling and nodded. That sounded like a good thing, something fun.
Of course, he never did play me that set list at that personal concert of one, because that guitar had been a present from his dad to try to make things better. It didn’t. I never saw him again after that day, and it was only because my mom found out through the local grapevine that his parents had divorced. His mom took him and they’d moved away.
I never saw him again, hardly spared the boy any thought… until today.
Until I sat, staring up into a pair of hazel eyes I hadn’t seen for eight years. Set in a face that was much older—and a lot cuter—it had to be him. Eight years was a long time apart, a hell of a long time to grow up, but my gut twisted in recognition, and I knew. I just knew.
Bishop’s real name was Cody.
“Hi,” I whispered, not knowing if I should get up or say something else. Maybe Ramona wouldn’t like that I knew who Bishop really was. Maybe she’d null the contract and send me home.
As it turned out, eight years was a long time, too long, because Bishop stepped forward and offered me his hand. “Hey,” he spoke with a tentative smile. “I’m Bishop. It’s nice to finally meet you, Angel.”
Nice to finally meet you , as in, he’d never met me before. Was that because he wasn’t Cody and it was all in my head, or did he not recognize me? I didn’t know which one would be worse, honestly.
No, that was a lie. The second one would obviously be worse.
After a few seconds of overthinking things, I leaned forward and accepted his hand, shaking it once while saying, “Same.” If he wasn’t Cody, then I was an idiot and I had to get over it. If he was Cody, then he clearly didn’t remember me, in which case I also had to get over it.
Bishop tossed a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the hall. “I gotta shower.”
Ramona waved him off. “Yeah, go, go.”
It occurred to me then Bishop was wearing workout clothes, and his brown hair was a little sweaty. I tried not to ogle him as he turned and headed toward the hallway, and once he was out of sight, I struggled with the possibilities.
It’d been eight years. Even if it was him, was it really so awful if he didn’t remember me? When we were younger, I hung out more with him than Alexa, since Alexa lived further away and her parents couldn’t drop her off and pick her up every day in the summer. And then, once he’d moved, life had gone on. Eventually I’d stopped thinking about him and Cody became a distant memory, along with all of the time we’d spent together.
Hunting for newts near the river. Singing. Showing me his second-hand guitar set. Seeing who could swing highest on the swing set and then jump off. Stupid summer activities, but man, I remembered having so much fun.
I must’ve zoned out, because the next thing I knew, dusk had fallen on the world outside, and Ramona was busy asking, “Have either of you heard from Deacon?” Bishop had come out and now sat on the couch near Priest.
“No,” Bishop said, while Priest just shook his head.
“Goddamn it, Deacon,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m going to kill that kid.” After checking her phone, Ramona said, “Look, I can’t stay any longer. I have to go.” She pointed at Bishop and Priest. “When he gets here, kick his ass for me—and make sure he’s not a dick to Angel. I’m counting on you two.”
Ramona sent me a look that I couldn’t read before leaving, and I turned my head to watch her go. A part of me didn’t want her to go, because it meant this whole thing would be real. Up until now, it still seemed like a dream.
As soon as the door closed—like, the very same second Ramona left, Priest deadpanned, “So, threesome, anybody?” Both Bishop and I glared at him, but all he did was shrug. “What? We could get it over with. Let’s not pretend there isn’t sexual tension about to boil over in here—”
My cheeks flushed. I could honestly say having a threesome was not something I ever thought about before… before now, that was. Thanks a lot, Priest.
“Did you hear anything Ramona said?” Bishop asked, turning toward Priest.
“I did,” Priest proudly proclaimed as he puffed his chest up. “And I’m electing to ignore her words of wisdom. I say we fuck.” He shot me a lopsided smile and a wink. “We wouldn’t have to tell. It could be our little secret, just the three of us.”
“Priest—”
Whatever Bishop—who may or may not be Cody—was going to say, I ignored. I got up, set my hands on my hips, and told Priest, “You’re disgusting. And just for the record, I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.” And then, before he could say any witty comeback, I turned around and stormed to my room.
It didn’t feel like my room, but maybe if I retreated to it during times of… let’s just call it annoyance, it would start to feel like it.
I made the mistake of not closing my door. I was busy sitting on my new bed, staring at my bookbags, knowing I had to unpack everything, when Bishop strolled in, his hands stuffed into his pockets. After his shower, he’d changed into black pants and a loose t-shirt with a skull design on it.
Don’t ask me why, but my heart skipped a beat when we met eyes. A part of me still hoped he’d recognize me, because it had to be him. It had to be. If it wasn’t, I must seriously be losing my mind.
He wandered toward my bed, a look of guilt on his face. “I’m sorry about Priest,” he said, leaning on the footboard. “He’s… well, I’d tell you you’ll get used to him, but even I’m not used to him, and I’ve known him for years.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, nodding once. He was still acting like we’d only just met… which meant he really didn’t remember me. Maybe I looked too different with this haircut and the white hair.
Or maybe he just didn’t remember.
“Eventually he’ll get used to the fact that you’re off-limits, and he’ll stop being so annoying about it,” Bishop was busy saying, though I’d kind of tuned him out. “He’s really not a bad guy, past the terrible jokes and the eternal horniness.”
“Eternally horny, huh?” I didn’t know what made me repeat those particular words, but once they were spoken, I had to resist the urge to smack myself. Talking about that stuff with these guys was the biggest no-no.
“Oh, yeah. Performing is Priest’s second love. His first is…” Bishop gave me a grin, and it was as I stared at that grin that I knew: it was him. He had to be Cody. The smile was the same, even after all these years. “I think you can guess. I promise you we’re not all like that, though.”
“It sounds like Deacon’s going to hate me,” I whispered, wanting to bring the conversation away from sex and horniness and all that.
“Don’t let him get to you. He hates everyone, depending on the hour. He’s been a little… worse since his brother got kicked out, but he understood it was that or lose everything we’ve worked for.”
Oh, great. Deacon sounded like an ass. I couldn’t wait to meet him.
Bishop looked like he wanted to say more. He’d taken his hands out of his pockets and curled them around the wood on the footboard, but in the end, all he said was, “I’ll let you get settled. If you need anything, just let me know. I know this can’t be an easy transition for you.”
What I really wanted to do was ask him if he remembered a girl he used to play with when he was younger, before all this Black Sacrament stuff, but I didn’t. I settled with, “Thank you.” I watched as he left my room, shutting the door behind him.
Man, just when I think it’s going to be hard, a curveball gets thrown at me. I already knew it was going to be difficult, but with the whole Cody-slash-Bishop thing and my stupid attraction to Priest… it was going to be a lot harder than I’d thought.
I unpacked my clothes and what few shoes I brought, and then I showered—before realizing I didn’t have any shampoo or soap. No toothbrush, either. I’d have to talk to Ramona in the morning. I guess a little shopping trip was in order.
By the time I crawled into bed, it was late. Late, and I hadn’t eaten all day. The funny thing was, thanks to my nerves, I wasn’t even hungry.
I couldn’t sleep. I checked my phone, finding that both my mom and Alexa had sent multiple messages. I thought about responding to them, but since it was so late, I didn’t want my mom to think anything was wrong. I’d text them both back first thing in the morning.
Tossing and turning proved fruitless, so I tried to turn the TV on for some background noise. The TV put me to sleep like nothing else could.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t get the damned thing to work.
My mind recalled the giant TV in the living room area. Mentally, I added fixing my TV to the list of things to do tomorrow, and then I crawled out of bed. I took one of my fuzzy blankets with me, dragging it across the floor as I headed toward my door. Out in the hall, I was greeted by darkness.
I tiptoed down the hall, passing the guys’ rooms. One of them hung open—I assumed Deacon’s room, which meant he hadn’t come back.
What would we do if he never came back? If he abandoned the band completely? I didn’t think Ramona was equipped to deal with that situation. None of us were.
I made it to the living room, the area a little more lit-up thanks to the city lights outside. Making my way to the nearest couch, I fumbled for the remote in the darkness, and once the TV was on, I turned the volume down low.
Every single app was installed on this TV, so I found my favorite old sitcom and started it from the beginning.
It was like magic, I swear. Just like that, I was out like a light, and as I drifted off to sleep, the last thing on my mind was my attraction to Priest, the fact that Bishop didn’t recognize me, and the way Deacon hated me so much he didn’t even want to come home to meet me.