Falling (The Falling Angels Saga) by E. Van Lowe Read Free Book Online Page B

and didn’t want to rock the boat for fear that I just might fall out.
    *
    It was mind boggling when I thought of all that had happened in my life in a mere twenty-four hours—discovering that I’d lost an entire day, and that during that day I’d done quite a bit of damage to my social standing. Then there was the earthquake in math lab, a sign that I was losing control of my powers, and finally, Aunt Jaz. Aunt Jaz’s blood pressure episode scared the bejesus out of Maudrina and me. At least that part was behind us.
    During lunch break, I decided to put something else behind me. I went down to the office to withdraw my name from the list of candidates for junior class president.
    When I entered, I discovered Mrs. Cleveland, the no-nonsense school secretary, wasn’t at her desk. Instead, a student aid was at the counter.
    “Hi, Megan,” the girl said, smiling as I walked up. I had no idea who she was, but she knew me. “How can I help you?” There was so much cheer in her voice, as if I were her best friend. I detected a hint of Texas in her accent.
    “Do I know you?”
    No. I’m just a lowly freshman.” She leaned in, her eyes crinkling behind her glasses. “But if I were a junior, you’d have my vote.” She winked at me.
    Ah, a geek.
    I should have known from the geek-of-the-week eyeglass frames and the unflattering maroon cardigan sweater. “Thanks,” I said. “Is Mrs. Cleveland around?”
    “Sorry, Megan. She took a quick lunch break. Is there something I can help you with?” She was a pretty girl, although she was doing her best to keep her looks under wraps. Her hair was long and brown and had a bad case of the frizzies.
    “No. It’s about my application to run for class office. I need to change something.”
    “Sorry,” she said again, and it came out sor-reee in a long, apologetic drawl. “I don’t have access to stuff like that. But when Mrs. Cleveland gets back, I can come and find you.” This girl was really trying to be helpful.
    “You’d do that?” I asked.
    “Of course.” She chuckled. “Wouldn’t you?”
    I shot her a thin smile. This girl was obviously a freshman because she was a bit too overzealous. Erin and I had volunteered in the office when we were freshman, but we weren’t so annoying. Were we? We’d volunteered because we thought working in the office would help us get to know people. It did. We got to know all the wrong people, all the other do-gooder geeks who volunteered.
    “Don’t worry about it. I’ll come back,” I said, and turned to go.
    “No problem. I’ll let Mrs. Cleveland know so she can have it waiting for you when you return,” the girl said. “Good luck with the election,” she called, her voice ringing with cheer.
    “Right.”
    As I started for the door, Guy entered my thoughts. I flashed on the day we attended the countywide mathlete challenge at Salesian High. He was looking so handsome and cool that day—like a teen-idol movie star. It was early in our relationship. I hadn’t even kissed him yet.
    I recalled how audience members from all the opposing schools responded to him. Rather than root against him, which was the norm, they cheered him on with raucous applause. That was because when they looked at Guy, they no longer saw themselves as goofy, geeky math nerds. He made them feel better about themselves. When they looked at him, they too had become polished, confident, and chic.
    Guy was one of them … and I was, too. I realized why I suddenly thought of Guy and that day. It was because no matter how long I fringed the Poplarati, I’d be kidding myself if I thought I’d ever really be accepted by them. To them, I was one click above Maudrina. We were from different worlds. I was the mathlete, the trivia nerd, the AP student, the geek, and they were … they were them.
    I turned back and faced the girl behind the counter. She was still staring at me, still smiling. I recognized that smile. It was the smile of a hopeful freshman