Angel Academy

Chapter Four

Mate.

I sit for the rest of flight training with that word as the only thing on my mind. I still haven't found a reasonable explanation as to why he would say it.

I'm pretty sure werewolves have a soul mate that they just call their mate, but I've never heard an angel use it.

Mr. Woodrow? I call out in my mind.

What is it Luciana? His voice replies.

Where is the rehabilitation center that the transfers came from located? I think as a plausible reason comes to mind.

Australia, why? He replies and I clap excitedly.

Just curious why they have a small accent, I lie smoothly.

Diana jogs over to me with a small smile and I raise my eyebrow. "What's up with you?" I ask amused.

"Daniel was staring at you."

"Uh yeah, I don't have any wings, that tends to make angels stare."

"No I don't think that was why," she snorts. "I think he likes you."

"I think you're delusional—"

"Oh come on you should go for it! I mean worst case he just says no, right?"

I roll my eyes. "Not gonna happen. Now class ends in ten minutes so let's get going," I say and start walking back to the locker rooms.

"Why is no one else going?" She asks.

"Because they don't have to walk to class, it takes a lot longer to walk around the floors and up the stairs than to fly straight through," I tell her and she face palms herself.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry! I keep forgetting," she winces but I shrug it off.

"Everybody does, just forget about it," I sigh, shoving my hands into the pockets of my hoodie.

She changes and we start walking to our last class. The bell rings as we are heading up the stairs and it is a flurry of feathers within seconds.

I stifle a laugh in my sleeve as I watch two angels collide into each other, then argue over whose fault it was.

I plod into the empty classroom and sit down at my desk in the back corner of the class. The vulgar names and crude drawings scratched into the wood of the desk make me sigh tiredly.

Several of the drawings are of an angel getting her wings chopped off by a sword or axe, her hands chained in front of her.

I know it's supposed to be me, but the idiots seem to think that wings are still removed the same way they were 100 years ago. They used to use a sword or axe, but now they surgically remove them so that nothing remains but the stitches. The problem is, the area doesn't heal very well at all. Even after almost ten years, mine are still tender and ache if I put too much pressure on them. 

I am taken out of my thoughts when a pencil hits me in the head. I turn to see Zayn's twin brother Kyle and it takes everything I have to not smash my head on the desk. 

Here we go again . . .

***

I shove open the door to my room and stalk straight into my bathroom. I vaguely hear the door close followed by footsteps.

"Are you alright?" Diana asks and I take a deep breath.

"I'm fine, just tired of those assholes," I mutter through gritted teeth.

"Yeah from what I've seen the students at this place are dicks to put it mildly—"

"No not the students, the Council! They are the reason I get made fun of, why I get practically tortured on a daily basis. I'm not allowed to fight back, I'm not allowed to stop them, because then I'd go to prison for the rest of my life or die," I growl.