"What the hell does that mean, 'only if your promise is you?' " Angela asked the Maker the next day. She'd called upon him on the way to school, and as she walked through the arch onto the campus, she didn't enter her school but a large white room as big as Taylor's house. The Maker stood on a pedestal in the center of the room. She was walking around him, eyeing him carefully, his pedestal turning to face her wherever she moved.
"You know what it means," he said. Her crystal glowed as she got angrier.
"No I don't. I have no idea what it means. Tell me now."
"It's your birthday today, isn't it?" he asked. She turned in the other direction, still staring up at him as he circled with her.
"I don't see how that has any relevance."
"Oh, my dear, it has much relevance. You're eighteen today. You woke up this morning endowed with more powers, powers you don't even know you have, and today you can use them all." She stopped.
"What are you talking about?"
"I think there's someone waiting for you at school," he said, and gave her a smile. She opened her mouth but with a blink she was back at school and the large white room was gone. She huffed, turned around, and ran right into the principal.
"Oh, Mr. Reyes, I'm sorry," she said.
"Angela, there's someone here who needs to speak with you," he said. She paused, confused, but followed Mr. Reyes to the conference room in the office. She immediately recognized her father's lawyer and clenched her fists. "I'll leave you two alone." He left.
"Angela, please, sit down," her lawyer, Mr. Robert Fogerty, said, gesturing to the seat across from him. Angela sat down.
"Um, what are you doing here?" Angela asked, resisting the urge to throw in a curse and raise her voice. She never liked that Mr. Fogerty; he had an untrustworthy aura and never looked her in the eyes. Everyone in the world knew, on a subconscious level, what exactly Angela was, however no one had the capacity to actually figure it out. Some people could handle it and some people couldn't, which was why he refused to look her directly in the eye.
"I wish we didn't have to do this here, but I've spoken with your mother and she said she's had some problems keeping you around long enough to speak with you." Angela bit her lip to keep from retorting. "Anyway, I'm here to discuss your father's will."
"My father's will?" she asked. "What about it?" Mr. Fogerty opened his suitcase and took out a copy of her father's will. He slid it over to her.
"Please read the highlighted portion near the bottom of page two," he said. She turned to page two and looked at the highlighted portioned. �all of my earnings, the sum of one hundred and ten million dollars, will go to my lawyer, Robert Fogerty, until April 7th, 2001 when it will be turned over, in full, to my beautiful and loving daughter Angela Sera Kennedy as her eighteenth birthday present. Angela looked up. After her father died she read his will about sixteen times over and over again, and that sentence was never included. Two years ago, all of her father's earnings were to go to Robert Fogerty.
"Oh my God," she said.
"If you'll sign at the bottom here, the funds will be transferred immediately into a bank account in your name." She signed, excited. "Great. Congratulations."
"Thank you."
"You should get to class." Angela got up and walked out of the room. She left the administration building, looking to see if there was anybody in sight then turned around and ran home. Her mother had today off (the woman's schedule was so messed up, she had days off in the middle of the week and sometimes worked weekends), so when Angela ran in, she was surprised.
"Angela! Why aren't you at school?"
"Mr. Fogerty showed up at school," Angela said.
"What the hell was that awful man doing�?"
"Mom, Dad left all of his money to me," Angela said. "We have our money back." Angela's mother screamed. "We have our money back!" Angela gave her mother a hug. "We're getting out of this hole and we're going back home."
"Oh, Angela, this is wonderful! But you should really go back to school." Angela let go and they both burst out laughing. "I'll find Bobby and he'll take care of you. I don't want you to spend another minute in that cheap public school."
Angela went to sleep early that night and when she went to Taylor's, she found him still in the studio. Zac was in the recording booth, Isaac was nowhere to be found, and Taylor was sitting at a switchboard, biting on his nail and looking very far away. She sat down next to him.
"You're early," he told her.
"Yeah, well, I couldn't wait," she told him. "How are you feeling today?"
"Terrible. Zac hit me."
"Where?" He looked at her and she saw he had a black eye. "Ooh, I'm sorry, Taylor. I'll take care of that for you later."
"Take care of it?" he asked.
"Yeah, like I took care of your finger the other day," she said. He nodded, a small smile crossing his lips.
"Taylor!!" Taylor's attention snapped back to Zac, who was sitting in the recording booth. "Can you play that back for me?" he impatiently asked.
"Geez, have a conniption," Taylor said.
"Who the hell are you talking to in there anyway?" Zac asked.
"No one." Taylor put on the playback of what Zac had just sung and Angela was amazed. She hadn't heard anything from them since her father died and it was certainly different. She liked it.
"Why did he hit you?" Angela asked. Taylor lowered his head. "Taylor�" I told our parents he was on drugs. "Taylor!"
"He is! Well, not really. He's been experimenting and I kind of tattled on him." Angela shook her head. "But he was threatening me!"
"Taylor, I'm not your mother," Angela said. "Don't treat me like I am. I'm not getting in the middle of this. You need to make peace with your brother. It's only going to get worse, and before you know it, it's going to start affecting your music." Angela stood up. "Right now you need to concentrate on work, all right? I'm not here."
"Of course you're here. Just because I can't see you doesn't mean you're not here," he said.
"Then I'll leave."
"No!" He reached out and grabbed her hand. She was surprised at how accurate he was. "No, stay."
"All right. But you better concentrate."
"We're going to leave once Zac finishes this verse anyway. Ike already left. Stay." She put her arms around his neck, putting her head next to his to see what he was seeing. The playback was over.
"What'd you think of that?" Zac asked.
"It was great."
"It was flat, Taylor," Zac said. "You weren't even paying attention."
"Fine then," Taylor said. "Do it again." Taylor started up the music again. "Angel, how are you getting back home?"
"I'm riding with you."
"And how to do you plan on doing that?"
"On your lap," she said, plopping down on his lap. He shook his head.
"But I'm driving."
"As if you can't see through me." He nodded. That was true. Zac finished his verse and took off his headphones, then walked into the room.
"Can we go now?"
"Were you satisfied with that take?" Taylor asked, looking through Angela to Zac.
"I didn't even sing that take. You played the wrong verse. I don't even want to deal with your shit right now. You've been off all day and don't think I don't know why. I'm going to be watching you, Taylor."
"Oh, yay," Taylor said. Stand up, Angel, he said. She did and he stood up as well. She put her arm around his and followed him out of the studio. The ride home was an interesting trip; Zac was sitting up in the front seat so Angela had to sit on Taylor's lap, and although she floated above him and he could see through her, he was still a little edgy on the way, knowing there was a person sitting on his lap the entire time.
"Calm down, honey," she said.
"What?!"
"I didn't say anything," Zac said, giving Taylor a strange look. "Taylor, you're really weirding me out."
"I'm sorry," Angela said. "I didn't know it would freak you out like it did." I'm not your honey, Taylor thought. "I know you're not. I call everybody honey. Why are you so jumpy like that anyway?" He didn't respond. She sighed.
"Taylor?" Zac asked. Taylor glanced over.
"What, Zac?"
"Are you okay?" Zac asked.
"I'm fine." Taylor pulled into the driveway of their home; Angela had never seen it from the outside. Zac got out first. "Angel, get out."
"Oh, so you can call me Angel but I can't call you honey," Angela said and got out of the car. Taylor got out as well and closed the door behind him.
"That's different," he said.
"What?" Zac asked, turning around.
"I didn't say anything," Taylor said. Zac gave him a look but went in the side. Taylor grabbed Angela's hand and led her into the house. It's different. Your name is Angel.
"My name is Angela." You are an angel, though. "That is true, but do I go around calling you musician? Singer? No. I call you Taylor." Do you want me start calling you Angela? She sighed. "No. Call me Angel." They went inside and up the stairs. Once safely inside his room, Taylor let out a deep sigh and collapsed into his chair, pulling Angela down with him. She sat in his lap, her head against his chest.
"Today was terrible, Angel," he said. "Zac yelled at me, Ike yelled at me, before we even left my parents yelled at me�Today is the kind of day that makes me want to, you know�" Kill myself. "I just had a bad day. Why are you only here at night?"
"Because you wouldn't get anything done if I was around all the time. I was in the studio for five minutes and you were gone."
"I'd been gone the entire day," he said. "It wasn't just you."
"Whatever. Plus, my life is not you, Taylor. Yes it's my job to get you better, and I'll do that! I'll get you better! But I still have to go to school and everything. I'm an eighteen-year-old girl, I have�"
"Whoa, I thought you were seventeen," he said.
"Today's my birthday."
"Is it really?"
"No, Taylor, I'm lying."
"Well then, happy birthday, Angel," he said. "I feel like I should do something for you."
"Why?"
"Oh come on, Angel, you've saved my life once already, you're saving it again right now�you've been coming here to help me out and make me better for three days now, and�"
"Four."
"Four what?"
"I've been here four days. The first day I was here I didn't speak to you."
"Oh. Well I still feel like I should do something for you," he said, unknowingly reaching up his hand to stroke her head, but as he did it he realized he couldn't feel her hair. "Angel, let me feel you." She closed her eyes as he began to stroke her hair and he could feel it. The only other thing he'd ever felt was her hand the first time she spoke to him, and he couldn't believe how soft her hair was. "What happens when I'm better?" he asked.
"Then you don't need me anymore," she said.
"But�" He didn't finish. But what if I don't want you to go?
"Taylor, I'm a human being. I exist. You could always call me."
"You weren't supposed to hear that," he said. She smiled. "But it's still going to be a while until I'm better, isn't it?"
"It all depends, Taylor," she told him. "You could be completely healed by the end of the week or it could take months! It depends on how much you want to get better, and already I know you want to get better. It's a slow process, but there's not exactly a quick fix for something like this, you know?"
"Yeah�" He continued to absently stoke her long hair, enjoying the way it felt as it eased through his fingers. I was thinking about telling my parents tomorrow. You know, about everything. I can't do it alone.
"I'll be there," she whispered. "Wait for me."
"So can I really call you?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.
"Well not right now."
"Of course not right now, you're here."
"No, I mean, not for a few days," she said. "I'm in the process of moving. My number's going to change."
"You know, you're here, I tell you everything, but I don't know anything about you. Why are you moving?" he asked.
"I'm just moving into a bigger place," Angela said. "Right now I'm living in a dinky little dump and me and my mother are moving somewhere better."
"What about your father?"
"He's dead."
"Oh," Taylor said. "Sorry."
"No, don't be. He's very happy where he is now," Angela said. "I mean, I can't talk to him or anything, but I asked about him the last time I was in contact with one of the Heaven angels and they say he'd happy. He wasn't happy here."
"How�did he die?"
"Cancer. He smoked a lot. I was sixteen."
"Oh," he said. "So�are you an only child?"
"Yeah," she said. "Just me and Mom. We're very happy together. We haven't exactly been close since my father died, but it's getting better."
"Kids! Dinner!"
"Get up," Taylor said.
"Wait," she said. "Before you go downstairs, close your eyes." He was slightly confused, but obliged. She kissed his right eye, which was swollen and bruised from Zac's hard punch earlier, but as soon as she let go the swelling was gone and it was healed.
"Thanks, Angel."
"It's why I'm here."