really be one of them. After an argument, they decided the best way to find out if I was a death angel, would be to grab me, drag me up to a cliff, and toss me over the edge to see if I’d fly. They didn’t think about—or maybe they did and just didn’t care—that most death angels can’t fly until they’re sixteen. I had kicked, screamed and fought the entire way, but it did nothing. And eventually, they tossed me off the cliff.
I’d like to say it turned out I had a hidden badassery talent for flying, but that would mean I wouldn't really be here right now, freaking out over flying for the first time. But obviously, I didn't plummet to my death either. No, Trystan had been nearby and had heard me scream, and apparently, he did have a hidden badassery talent for flying since, you know, he was flying at the age of eight. He also had a kind heart, and not only did he save me, but he also kicked the asses of the angels that tossed me over that cliff. With my help, of course. I may be terrified of flying, but I can fight like a pro and refuse to be a damsel in distress.
But anyway...
Trystan and I have been best friends ever since then. Not that we haven’t had our fights. And if he keeps calling me little angel, we’re about to have another one.
“Which makes it more appealing,” he says, drawing me back to reality, the corners of his lips quirking. “Little angel.”
Irritation weaves through me.
“I think I’m done for the day.” I tuck my wings away as I turn and start up the path that leads me to my home.
He follows after me. "Haven, wait. We need to get this done today. School starts tomorrow, and you won't pass the flight entry test if you can't fly."
"I know that," I mutter, quickening my pace, my anxiety skyrocketing. "I don't need to be reminded."
This happens every time I think of that stupid test. I panic. I’ve known for years this day would come, and I've also known there's a good chance I won't be able to pass the test.
I still have nightmares about that day I was pushed off the cliff, as I fell through the sky and let my wings come out. But they had done nothing when I’d tried to fly. They were weak. Or I was. I wasn’t sure. What I was sure about was that I was going to die that day. I had even mentally said my goodbyes as I fell. Then I had shut my eyes, preparing for the pain and darkness. But instead, arms had enveloped around me, and I’d felt warmth. Trystan's warmth. And even now, when I'm in my darkest moments, I can still feel his warmth.
"Haven." He continues to walk behind me. "I'm not trying to freak you out. I just want you to understand how important it is that you do this—"
I whirl around so suddenly that he nearly runs into me. But he skids to a stop, his silver eyes are wide, and his wings are tucked away.
“I know it’s important,” I tell him. “But again, I don’t need reminding.”
“Don’t you?” he questions. “Because you’re walking away from your last chance to do it. We won’t have time to practice tomorrow morning.”
I take a deep breath and another, deep down knowing he’s right. But I also know there’s a good chance this won’t happen for me.
So, I shrug, pretending to be more okay with what I'm about to say, even though I’m not. "Then I guess I won't be going to school."
The corners of his lips tug downward as he steps toward me. “Don’t pretend like you don’t care. I know you do. It’s all you’ve talked about for years.”
“Only because my parents made me think it’s what I wanted to do,” I lie.
While my parents have encouraged me to go, they’ve never pressured me. I know that. I’m just being a brat right now because I’m angry with myself.
Realizing this, my shoulders slump. “I’m going home. I’ll see you in the morning.”
His lips part, but I don’t wait to hear what he has to say. I just turn around and walk away.
And for the first time, he lets me. Usually when we’re arguing, he makes us hash it out. But this time he let me go. It's probably a good thing since tomorrow morning, he's going to leave