Page 16 of Wings of Torment
“See you!” I call back. “I guess I should go get changed for Wingology. Wish me luck, guys.”
Raphael’s soft smile shifts into a frown. “There’s something going on with that professor. I don’t enjoy leaving you alone with him.”
I grab his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Oh, I don’t plan on being alone with him, trust me. I’ll keep quiet and stick to the back. Maybe he’ll forget I’m there.” What I don’t tell them is that I’ve considered changing my major entirely, just to avoid him. I don’t quite have the mental capacity for that conversation today.
We go our separate ways and I dally while changing into my flying gear. I don’t want to be late, but there’s no way in hell that I’ll be the first person out there, either.
Not that it helps.
I swear this professor has some sort of homing beacon programmed into his brain and I’m the target, because the moment I enter the arena, he’s glaring at me. Even though I walked in with a group of other students and never said a peep, it’s like he knows where I am.
He waits for us to sit before beginning his speech. “Glad to see you’ve all survived after such an awful attack last week. Considering recent events, I’ve decided to restructure our grading and remove next week’s midterm. Instead, we’ll have several small tests and projects to make up your grade. This will allow less pressure on you, as well as provide us with the opportunity to explore the strange happenings at this very school.”
A few students clap their hands, likely excited that we no longer have a midterm to stress about, and while I’m happy, I can’t help but find his charity rather odd.
“Now, part of this new grading structure will include informal presentations in front of your peers to discuss what your wings feel like to you. You’ll most likely find that each person here has a unique connection with their wings, which is a topic we’ll begin to explore over the coming weeks.”
The angel beside me, a red-haired girl with freckles all over her face, turns to me. Her skin is pale, almost sickly looking, when she says, “I’d rather have a midterm instead of a presentation.”
I’m so taken aback at the fact that someone is talking to me, and not just to throw insults my way. All I manage is a nod and whisper back, “I think I’d have to agree.”
“Well, Miss Hayliel, since you’re so fond of talking during my class, why don’t you make your way down here and start us off,” Professor Uriel says, his smile never quite reaching his eyes.
The girl who was just talking to me immediately backs up and shifts further away as if I’m the problem. I want to shoutI was only talking because of you!But I don’t. Instead, I look back tothe professor and ask, “I’d prefer some time to prepare.” I try, even though it’s futile.
“You’ll have all the time in the world back at home with your parents if you don’t come down here. Whichever you choose is fine by me.”
My stomach drops. Every moment of this encounter reminds me so much of that first day. What is it with this guy? Why does he have to pick on me and threaten to send me home? I don’t know why I thought things would be any different. Assholes like him don’t change.
I walk to the front of the class with my shoulders back and head held high, doing my best to portray a confidence I don’t remotely feel. Whispers grow until I’m positive no one is actually trying to hide what they’re saying. But one voice is far louder than the others.
Cadriel glares at me, the hatred in his eyes a living, breathing thing. “Can you believe this reject? How has she not been kicked out already? The principal really needs to do something about the absolute trash that’s sullying the school’s name.”
Professor Uriel doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t tell anyone to be kind or even just to be quiet. All he does is gaze at me while I stand in front of these students and take their verbal blows with as much grace as I can muster. Every interaction with this piece of shit brings him further up our list of suspicious angels. Today is no exception.
But as I stand there, beneath Cadriel’s cruel words, I hear something else, something almostkind.
“Why is everyone hating on her? Isn’t she the reason we’re all safe?”
“I heard she killed every single demon on school grounds just by touching their foreheads.”
“Whoa. That’s next level. If she’s a freak, then sign me the fuck up.”
Even though what they’re saying isn’t even remotely true, their words burrow deep inside of me, strengthening my resolve. Ignorant professors and bullies will not beat me down. I won’t cower and hide who I am, even if I don’t fully understand just who that is yet. Because if it truly was my transformation that killed those demons, then I have a duty to find out everything I can so that if those creatures ever come back, maybe I can protect the school and everyone in it.
Postponing classes means the schedule this week is odd. Professors moved lessons around in order to fit them in before midterms and not overwhelm the students. I like the idea, in theory. What I don’t like, however, is that it now means I have to jump from Wingology straight to Chronicles of Silver City.
It’s strange walking through campus this time. No one’s dubbed me “demon-spawn” yet today, so I have to call that a win, right? I’d enjoy it more if my classmates and fellow students wouldn’t stare at me like I held their fate in the palm of my hand. The rumors are getting out of control, and even though these are in my favor, it’s still uncomfortable.
Why can’t everyone just accept me as I am?
There are a few who do, but unfortunately none of them are in my next class.
I walk through the door, dreading having to deal with the cruel indifference that Professor Sofiel always portrays during class. Everyone stares, but it’s the bright, beaming grin from the professor that throws me for a loop.
With her cherry-red lips and wide smile, something about it almost seems menacing. Like her jaw could unhinge at any point and she’d swallow me whole.
“Miss Hayliel, what a joy to see you today. I hope you’re faring well after dealing with those pesky demons all on your own.”
