Free Halo by Alexandra Adornetto Page A

on my side, my head still swimming with thoughts and questions that my exhausted body chose to ignore.
    As I drifted in and out of sleep, I imagined a stranger coming quietly into my room. I felt his weight as he sat on the edge of my bed in silence. I was sure he was watching me as I slept, but I didn’t dare open my eyes because I knew he would prove to be a figment of my imagination and I wanted the illusion to continue a little longer. The boy lifted his hand to brush a wisp of hair out of my eyes and then leaned to kiss my forehead. His kiss was like being touched by butterfly wings. I felt no alarm; I knew I could trust this stranger with my life. I heard him get up to close the doors to the balcony before turning to leave.
    “Good night, Bethany,” the voice of Xavier Woods whispered. “Sweet dreams.”
    “Good night, Xavier,” I said dreamily, but when I opened my eyes I found the room was empty. Then my eyelids were too heavy to keep open, and the dim lamplight and the sound of the sea faded away as a deep and peaceful sleep overcame me.

French Class

    Someone was calling my name. Even though I tried to ignore it, the voice persisted and I was forced to surface from the warm, shadowy depths of sleep.
    “Wake up, sleepyhead!”
    I opened my eyes and saw morning light spilling into the room like warm liquid gold. I squinted, sat up, and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Ivy was standing at the foot of my bed with a cup in her hand.
    “Try this, it’s awful but it wakes you up.”
    “What is it?”
    “Coffee—a lot of humans think they can’t function properly without it.”
    I sat up and sipped at the bitter, black brew, resisting the urge to spit it out. I wondered how people could actually pay money to drink it, but it didn’t take long for the caffeine to hit my bloodstream, and I had to admit that I did feel more alert.
    “What time is it?” I asked.
    “Time you were up.”
    “Where’s Gabe?”
    “I think he’s gone for a run. He was up at five this morning.”
    “What’s wrong with him?” I groaned, pushing back my covers reluctantly and sounding like a bona fide teenager.
    I shook out my hair and ran a comb through it before washing my face and traipsing downstairs to the kitchen. Gabriel, back from his run, was cooking breakfast. He had just showered and combed his wet hair back from his forehead, which gave him a leonine look. He wore only a towel wrapped around his hips, and his taut body gleamed in the morning sun. His wings were contracted and looked like nothing more than a rippling line between his shoulder blades. He was standing by the stove, holding a stainless steel spatula.
    “Pancakes or waffles?” he asked. He didn’t have to turn around to determine who had come into the room.
    “I’m actually not very hungry,” I said apologetically. “I think I’ll skip breakfast and have something later.”
    “No one leaves this house on an empty stomach.” He sounded implacable on the subject. “So what’ll it be?”
    “It’s too early, Gabe! Don’t make me, I’ll be sick!” I sounded like a child trying to get out of eating my Brussels sprouts.
    Gabriel looked offended. “Are you suggesting my cooking makes people sick?”
    Oops. I tried to rectify my mistake. “Of course not. I just . . .”
    My brother put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me intently. “Bethany,” he said, “do you know what happens when the human body isn’t fueled properly?”
    I shook my head irritably, knowing he was about to present facts I wouldn’t be able to argue with.
    “It can’t function. You won’t be able to concentrate and you might even feel light-headed.” He paused to allow the impact of his words to register. “I don’t think you want to faint on your second day of school, do you?”
    This had the effect he hoped it would. I slumped unceremoniously into a chair, visualizing myself keeling over from lack of nutrition and a host of concerned faces looking down at