The Angel with Papery Wings [prequel]

ch.17 In the papers

I nodded, allowing him to continue. "So what's her name? Did you go to school with her?" he asked.

I laughed as I recalled my old cell. "School. That's it," I nodded. Danny wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"Well what was she like?" he asked plainly.

I shook my head and leaned back against the wall, remembering all the times Sam shoved me against the closet in jail. "She was a conniving little bitch," I spat.

Danny dropped his towel. "Oh."

"Yeah. She was sexy as fuck, though. Real pretty blonde with these blue eyes that made you feel like she knew you existed. And she wanted you," I whispered the last bit. Danny picked up his towel, but continued to stare at me.

"I'm guessing it didn't last..." Danny mumbled into his moist towel. I leaned back and rested my arms under my head. 

"Nah. She was only using me," I shook my head. My throat constricted suddenly. I felt like I might scream or cry or both. Either way, I didn't want Danny to see. And God forbid Angie happened to come down the moment I burst into tears.

"Work out," Danny ordered. I sat upright.

"What?"

"Get Barbie off your mind by working out."

I nodded. Danny rested with his back on the bench. He began lifting the weight. It was a good 80 pounds. He lifted it up high, then brought it down low to his chest. I watched him as he moved steadily.

"Let me at it," I spoke up. Danny nodded and allowed me to lay on the bench, lifting the same weight. It seemed extremely light. I asked him to add more and more weights. The pressure pushing down on my chest felt good, like my heart might burst and all my emotions attached to Sam could finally disappear and I could focus on helping Angie.

***

Danny started offering me to hang out and work out with him. I accepted, mainly because Angie probably wanted some girl time with Becky, or whatever. Plus, I did like Danny. He was a good kid and he held all discretion about whether or not I got to stay with him and Angie. Well, at least until their uncle decided to show up.

Danny and I were in the garage, working on his uncle's Mustang. It definitely wasn't from this century and the dust in the exhaust pipe was probably older than me.

"So where exactly is your uncle?" I mumbled as I handed Danny a screw. He took it quickly and avoided my question for a minute.

"He's uh-- he's busy at work," Danny answered casually. I leaned against the car door, debating whether I should ask more. "He usually stops by every few weeks, just in case child support wants to ask questions."

"Oh," I nodded. "And I'm gonna get a job this week, I swear," I promised, holding my hand over my chest. Danny stood up slowly, wiping the dirt on his brow.

"Harry, don't worry about that. Everything your doing for Angie is more than enough," he reassured me, but my chest tightened. I enjoyed every chance I got to be around Angie, but I also needed to take a step back, in case I became too attached. 

Angie had her own little world of ballet and Becky and lipgloss to worry about. And I had jail and shed blood and a job to mull over.

A few guys started yelling and growling curses at one another. I looked up to see a tall, lean blonde boy, a tanned, black-haired guy with lashes longer than those make-up models, and a shorter, blonde with a thick Irish accent.

I stood up a bit straighter. Danny turned around and half ran to the guys on their motorcycles.

"Ay, Danny, I thought I told you not to work on the car til I stopped by," the tall blonde laughed. His eyes were narrow and rich, mahogany brown color. He seemed quick and agile, like he could steal my watch before I even said "hello."

"Sorry, Tony, I couldn't help myself," Danny grinned. Tony laughed it off and added a casual punch to Danny's shoulder. Then his eyes met mine and his smile was replaced by a cunning smirk.

The tanned brunette walked forward and took a drag from his joint before blowing out the smoke in delicate clouds. "Let Danny do as he pleases. He's the man of his house," the brunette spoke vaguely, like he was reading a Hallmark card.

Danny stood up straighter. He seemed to enjoy having such an adult title at such a young age.

His dark, hazel eyes were blotched red and I knew he was high, but that didn't take away from the symmetry or perfection of his face. It was like he was a human doll; every line and curve of his jaw and eyes were aligned. My mom used to tell me I was handsome and all, but this guy right here was a Middle Eastern Fabio.

The tall blonde smiled casually at me while the shorter blonde with a thick accent jumped forward, gripping a beer in hand.

"It's too early to be working, Danny," the boy laughed. Tiny crinkles formed by his eager blue eyes and I couldn't help but smile.

"And you're too young to be drinking, but what are we gonna do about it?" Danny retorted with a light pat on the Irish kid's shoulder.

The Irish kid shifted in his place. "Who's Curly?" he asked Danny, nodding at me. I stood there sort of awkwardly, with my hands in my pockets. The blonde, Irish guy had spoken loud enough for me to hear.

Danny turned to me and held his hand out, motioning between me and the tall blonde. The Middle Eastern Fabio took a drag from his joint. I watched his lashes flutter from the wisps of smoke.

"Zen," he hissed. I blinked, slightly embarrassed he'd caught me staring at him. "My name is Zen," he told me. 

"Oh," I breathed in relief. Zen held out his hand. "I'm Harry," I told him, saving Danny the trouble of an awkward intro.

"Zayn, cut the mysterious crap," the Irish kid snapped. He narrowed his eyes at me, as if he didn't approve of my name. The tall blonde jumped forward and slugged me in the shoulder as part of hsi greeting. I would have done the same had I known the guy better. 

"Nice ta meet ya, Harry," he grinned aimably. I found myself smiling again. Zen/Zayn gave me a half smirk, but the semi-short Irish kid continued to stare.

"I've seen yer face in the papers," he announced quietly. My throat went dry. If he blew my cover, I was done for. Danny would kick me out. Angie wouldn't dare look at me again. My chest heaved automatically. I couldn't even imagine what I would do if Angie didn't look at me again...

"You're acne is letting up," the Irish kid huffed. My jaw dropped slightly. He knew. He knew I had killed Sergeant. And my mom was dead. He knew about the trial and the sentence.

"Sorry?" I asked hesitantly.

"Said your acne looked much worse in the newspaper," he chuckled. Tony chimed in and patted the Irish kid's shoulder. Neither Tony nor the others had any idea what newspaper article Niall was talking about.

"I'm Niall by the way," the Irish one introduced. I shook his hand and I tried to smile, especially since they hadn't figured me out yet. Yet...

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I hope to consistently update twice a week, but I'm not sure on which days. My schedule is pretty hectic this semester, so I will always tweet about when I'm writing, posting chapters, etc.

Twitter: @Atlantis094