My Angel, My Devil (unfinished) by Tamara L. Garcia (books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕
Excerpt from the book:
Prologue
When I came home that day, everything was supposed to be the same, boring routine. Nothing was supposed to change. I had always wanted something to change, but not like that. I wanted a shift in events; a mere scratch in my daily schedule. But what happened on that day was too significant and majorly life changing to even be compared to the word scratch.
It was the worst day of my life. I could only wish so hard it hurt that it was only something trivial like being embarrassed in front of the whole school. Like tripping and accidentally falling on a little kid and squishing him. But no, that day started everything; it set the gears of my life in motion in the way I’d never imagined.
It was the day my life ended, and then began again.
When I came home that day, everything was supposed to be the same, boring routine. Nothing was supposed to change. I had always wanted something to change, but not like that. I wanted a shift in events; a mere scratch in my daily schedule. But what happened on that day was too significant and majorly life changing to even be compared to the word scratch.
It was the worst day of my life. I could only wish so hard it hurt that it was only something trivial like being embarrassed in front of the whole school. Like tripping and accidentally falling on a little kid and squishing him. But no, that day started everything; it set the gears of my life in motion in the way I’d never imagined.
It was the day my life ended, and then began again.
Read free book «My Angel, My Devil (unfinished) by Tamara L. Garcia (books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
Download in Format:
- Author: Tamara L. Garcia
Read book online «My Angel, My Devil (unfinished) by Tamara L. Garcia (books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕». Author - Tamara L. Garcia
things physically shifted. Suddenly the world shifting just felt like me. All of the sudden I was unbalanced and klutzy, even sitting. I was weaker and heavier. I got up, and took the box with me to go to the bathroom. I felt like I shouldn’t leave it anywhere without me around. I stumbled a few times, and set the box down on the sink, closing my eyes.
I don’t know why, but I felt like something was going to change. My head felt lighter, and the atmosphere was hard to breathe in; kind of like I would imagine being at high altitude would feel like. Then everything became slow and dreamlike. I felt a weight on my chest and I struggled to breathe. Then, as if it never happened, everything turned back to normal.
Then my body tilted-only in the slightest-and I felt as light as a feather. I opened my eyes, and all I could muster was my famous line: “Oh my angels,” it was a whisper. My voice rang with fullness, and it wasn’t a command but it sounded powerful, binding, and like it might add a pressure to someone.
I hadn’t believed it possible, but there it was. My skin was paler, but it wasn’t pasty and unattractive. I was paler than Seth and it looked beautiful. My hair was longer, still darker than black like it always was, but it was more like silk, and when I moved the ends looked ghost like. My eyes (inherited from my father, like Damien) were grey. Damien and I were the only ones with grey eyes.
It baffled the doctors, but my parents didn’t let them study us or conduct any tests. My mom is super over protective, and when my father heard I might become a lab rat, he released all kinds of hell on the doctors and scientists that showed even a smidgen of interest of dissecting us or something.
In the first place, it wasn’t common, or rather so, extremely rare for Japanese to have light eyes. The few Japanese people that do have light eyes, however, are always halves like us. I can’t wait for high school in Japan (note the sarcasm)-no doubt they’d be disappointed I don’t have blonde hair and blue eyes. They will pout and it won’t be my fault. I hope they have low expectations.
My steel grey eyes took in more of my body. What I saw was mildly shocking, to say the most. I was forming curves-they were small; a tiny tilt, but there nonetheless. Then I just got an idea. This would be fun. My pink lips curved up in a smile as I chuckled.
I went over to get my cell phone, and called up Damien. It rang for a second, and he picked it up. “Chika-chan?” he was exited. I smiled. He wouldn’t be disappointed. I instructed him on what to do, and it was almost as if he was here, the ends of his mouth slowly turning up in what looked like a sweet smile to other people, but to me it was a devious one. He knows what I’m up too and he’s interested. He’ll comply.
• • • •
He burst through the door thirty minutes later at full speed, skidding to a halt and tripping. He got up with a big smile on his face as he realized nothing was broken or damaged, and put the things on the bed. He lay everything down on the bed, one by one: medium stretch bandages, a pair of scissors for cutting hair, contacts, and a black T shirt with a grey kitten wearing red head phones with a smile and a Mohawk on it, loose black boy jeans (faded in some places), a few silver earrings, and a spiked heart necklace. There was more in the bag, but he left it in there.
He smiled at me and said, “Good thing you’re wearing the hospital gown right now.” he picked up the succors and fished out a butterfly and a comb from the bag. He pointed to the chair and I took a seat. Within a few minutes I saw a pile of long hair on the floor, and my head felt lighter. Unlike most girls, I had no particular attachment to my hair.
Damien threw the butterfly across the room when he had no further use for it, and combed my hair the way he wanted it, and trimmed my hair in the back. Then he set the scissors on the side after combing my hair a bit. He then brushed hair off of my head and gave me shampoo and conditioner and told me to wash off.
An hour or so later, I looked in the full length mirror. I was shocked how much I looked like them; Damien and Seth. If I were a boy I know I would be the link that made Damien and Seth look like clones. I look better as a boy then I doo as a girl, even though I dressed like tomboy when I was known as a looser girl.
Damien waggled his brows to show appreciation for his work. “You know, you would look ten times better in cute girl clothes with short hair,” Damien said. I turned back to look at him with ‘yeah right’ all over my face when I saw how serious he was. I sighed and blushed.
“I would love to be released early,” I said. “That would definitely make my day.”
He nodded his head a yes. “The doctors checked you a million times because of Seth, so I guess I’m free to just sign you out. They said you were fine a billion and two times, but in this sort of situation, Seth’s not really the listening type.”
I smirked. “I definitely can see that happening. Worry wart is totally cheesy, but it pretty much covers what he is-though I wouldn’t really blame him. I was so close to the explosion it surprises me nothing’s wrong with me.” He lifted one brow, and I laughed. “I want to have a bit of fun, sue me.”
I turned to the mirror once again, and felt light with some of the raw sorrow in me torn away by my idea. I was hurting, and more than I would let anyone know. I could live with the pain, as long as it couldn’t live without me. The pain was my balance; that’s how it’s been, and that’s how it’ll always be.
But as for now, I need to forget. I had that wrong feeling in me again; the one that made me feel no sorrow and allowed me to think properly. It didn’t seem weird to me either. It was just there, and somehow my being grew nonchalance for it, but it still left my mind successfully boggled.
Damien and I left to the desk on my floor so he could sign me out. We lucked out; there was a nurse there. When the blonde spotted Damien one of her brows lifted and she looked startled. Damien has that effect. I sighed and pulled a black and red beanie on my head and pulled and my loose studded chocker with a cross and a skull lain over it as the charm. The nurse’s blue eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly, but noticeably. Her cheeks were red, and her look said ‘I like’.
It seemed like forever since she first drooled over him, and then she took her eyes off of him and looked at me. The only way anyone could possibly describe her face is that it openly read ‘Oh. My. God.’ She turned completely red and she put her hand over her mouth. I look behind me and to the side to see if someone was behind me or Damien’s reflection in a glass window looked better than the real thing. Then I realized she was looking dead at me. Wonderful-just perfect.
It’s sad that this girl may be all over me, but not one guy thinks I’m worth looking at. Maybe it’s because I’m Asian. It’s either that or I’m ugly, which would be a big disappointment. The nurse looked away, looking very much like a twenty-something fan girl. She was fidgeting, which was a big giveaway to how much she was freaking out. Oh Angels, why me?
When I arrive to Japan, I should become a host. That would be a good laugh-I can just imagine Damien making fun of me for it.
The nurse looked back at me as if to check if I’m real or not, and I got a glimpse of her name tag: Brenda. Her lab coat was completely blank, and she had anime figures all over her desk, and since her computer was tilted our way, I saw that her mouse was a chibi character. Oh god. It can’t be, can it?
She spoke first. “How can I help you gentlemen?” she was stuttering and she held her hand out. It was more towards me than to Damien who had a boy Lolita face, but was still clearly older than me. Damien’s brow rose and a smirk teased his lips. I took her hand and it was wet with sweat. How nervous could she be?
She didn’t have to shake my hand either. Could I really be popular as a boy? Damien asked if it was okay if I was signed out and she pulled out my file. She seemed to miss seeing my sex because she was still nervous and as red as a tomato. Damien signed me out and as we were about to leave, she yelled at us to stop too loud. Everyone was looking at her but she didn’t seem to mind much because all of her attention was focused on me.
She spoke again but this time her voice was more nervous and shaky than before. “Is it okay if I take a picture with you? I would really love that because if I told my friend I met two bishounen she wouldn’t believe me. I mean, it’s not every day I get to meet guys of your caliber so-” I cut her off.
“Sure, do you have a camera?” for fun I added an accent ranging from Japanese to Spanish to give her a hint of our other half. It was my stranger accent. I used it whenever I met a stranger, because I was bored and I wanted them to think of me a little longer so I wouldn’t disappear from their thoughts so easily. I’ve been perfecting it for 4 years now, and somehow now it sounded seductive. I laughed mentally at Brenda for staring into space at me.
Then it was cut short by my disturbance of what she might be thinking about me. I gave a mental shudder. Oh Angels, stop thinking about it. Gross. I looked at her with a smirk on my face to hide my inner disturbance. “Miss Brenda, are you okay?” after I said that she snapped out of her fantasies.
I didn’t think it was possible, but she got even redder and for the first time, spoke to me weakly, as if she were at my service (okay I really wish I hadn’t finished that
I don’t know why, but I felt like something was going to change. My head felt lighter, and the atmosphere was hard to breathe in; kind of like I would imagine being at high altitude would feel like. Then everything became slow and dreamlike. I felt a weight on my chest and I struggled to breathe. Then, as if it never happened, everything turned back to normal.
Then my body tilted-only in the slightest-and I felt as light as a feather. I opened my eyes, and all I could muster was my famous line: “Oh my angels,” it was a whisper. My voice rang with fullness, and it wasn’t a command but it sounded powerful, binding, and like it might add a pressure to someone.
I hadn’t believed it possible, but there it was. My skin was paler, but it wasn’t pasty and unattractive. I was paler than Seth and it looked beautiful. My hair was longer, still darker than black like it always was, but it was more like silk, and when I moved the ends looked ghost like. My eyes (inherited from my father, like Damien) were grey. Damien and I were the only ones with grey eyes.
It baffled the doctors, but my parents didn’t let them study us or conduct any tests. My mom is super over protective, and when my father heard I might become a lab rat, he released all kinds of hell on the doctors and scientists that showed even a smidgen of interest of dissecting us or something.
In the first place, it wasn’t common, or rather so, extremely rare for Japanese to have light eyes. The few Japanese people that do have light eyes, however, are always halves like us. I can’t wait for high school in Japan (note the sarcasm)-no doubt they’d be disappointed I don’t have blonde hair and blue eyes. They will pout and it won’t be my fault. I hope they have low expectations.
My steel grey eyes took in more of my body. What I saw was mildly shocking, to say the most. I was forming curves-they were small; a tiny tilt, but there nonetheless. Then I just got an idea. This would be fun. My pink lips curved up in a smile as I chuckled.
I went over to get my cell phone, and called up Damien. It rang for a second, and he picked it up. “Chika-chan?” he was exited. I smiled. He wouldn’t be disappointed. I instructed him on what to do, and it was almost as if he was here, the ends of his mouth slowly turning up in what looked like a sweet smile to other people, but to me it was a devious one. He knows what I’m up too and he’s interested. He’ll comply.
• • • •
He burst through the door thirty minutes later at full speed, skidding to a halt and tripping. He got up with a big smile on his face as he realized nothing was broken or damaged, and put the things on the bed. He lay everything down on the bed, one by one: medium stretch bandages, a pair of scissors for cutting hair, contacts, and a black T shirt with a grey kitten wearing red head phones with a smile and a Mohawk on it, loose black boy jeans (faded in some places), a few silver earrings, and a spiked heart necklace. There was more in the bag, but he left it in there.
He smiled at me and said, “Good thing you’re wearing the hospital gown right now.” he picked up the succors and fished out a butterfly and a comb from the bag. He pointed to the chair and I took a seat. Within a few minutes I saw a pile of long hair on the floor, and my head felt lighter. Unlike most girls, I had no particular attachment to my hair.
Damien threw the butterfly across the room when he had no further use for it, and combed my hair the way he wanted it, and trimmed my hair in the back. Then he set the scissors on the side after combing my hair a bit. He then brushed hair off of my head and gave me shampoo and conditioner and told me to wash off.
An hour or so later, I looked in the full length mirror. I was shocked how much I looked like them; Damien and Seth. If I were a boy I know I would be the link that made Damien and Seth look like clones. I look better as a boy then I doo as a girl, even though I dressed like tomboy when I was known as a looser girl.
Damien waggled his brows to show appreciation for his work. “You know, you would look ten times better in cute girl clothes with short hair,” Damien said. I turned back to look at him with ‘yeah right’ all over my face when I saw how serious he was. I sighed and blushed.
“I would love to be released early,” I said. “That would definitely make my day.”
He nodded his head a yes. “The doctors checked you a million times because of Seth, so I guess I’m free to just sign you out. They said you were fine a billion and two times, but in this sort of situation, Seth’s not really the listening type.”
I smirked. “I definitely can see that happening. Worry wart is totally cheesy, but it pretty much covers what he is-though I wouldn’t really blame him. I was so close to the explosion it surprises me nothing’s wrong with me.” He lifted one brow, and I laughed. “I want to have a bit of fun, sue me.”
I turned to the mirror once again, and felt light with some of the raw sorrow in me torn away by my idea. I was hurting, and more than I would let anyone know. I could live with the pain, as long as it couldn’t live without me. The pain was my balance; that’s how it’s been, and that’s how it’ll always be.
But as for now, I need to forget. I had that wrong feeling in me again; the one that made me feel no sorrow and allowed me to think properly. It didn’t seem weird to me either. It was just there, and somehow my being grew nonchalance for it, but it still left my mind successfully boggled.
Damien and I left to the desk on my floor so he could sign me out. We lucked out; there was a nurse there. When the blonde spotted Damien one of her brows lifted and she looked startled. Damien has that effect. I sighed and pulled a black and red beanie on my head and pulled and my loose studded chocker with a cross and a skull lain over it as the charm. The nurse’s blue eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly, but noticeably. Her cheeks were red, and her look said ‘I like’.
It seemed like forever since she first drooled over him, and then she took her eyes off of him and looked at me. The only way anyone could possibly describe her face is that it openly read ‘Oh. My. God.’ She turned completely red and she put her hand over her mouth. I look behind me and to the side to see if someone was behind me or Damien’s reflection in a glass window looked better than the real thing. Then I realized she was looking dead at me. Wonderful-just perfect.
It’s sad that this girl may be all over me, but not one guy thinks I’m worth looking at. Maybe it’s because I’m Asian. It’s either that or I’m ugly, which would be a big disappointment. The nurse looked away, looking very much like a twenty-something fan girl. She was fidgeting, which was a big giveaway to how much she was freaking out. Oh Angels, why me?
When I arrive to Japan, I should become a host. That would be a good laugh-I can just imagine Damien making fun of me for it.
The nurse looked back at me as if to check if I’m real or not, and I got a glimpse of her name tag: Brenda. Her lab coat was completely blank, and she had anime figures all over her desk, and since her computer was tilted our way, I saw that her mouse was a chibi character. Oh god. It can’t be, can it?
She spoke first. “How can I help you gentlemen?” she was stuttering and she held her hand out. It was more towards me than to Damien who had a boy Lolita face, but was still clearly older than me. Damien’s brow rose and a smirk teased his lips. I took her hand and it was wet with sweat. How nervous could she be?
She didn’t have to shake my hand either. Could I really be popular as a boy? Damien asked if it was okay if I was signed out and she pulled out my file. She seemed to miss seeing my sex because she was still nervous and as red as a tomato. Damien signed me out and as we were about to leave, she yelled at us to stop too loud. Everyone was looking at her but she didn’t seem to mind much because all of her attention was focused on me.
She spoke again but this time her voice was more nervous and shaky than before. “Is it okay if I take a picture with you? I would really love that because if I told my friend I met two bishounen she wouldn’t believe me. I mean, it’s not every day I get to meet guys of your caliber so-” I cut her off.
“Sure, do you have a camera?” for fun I added an accent ranging from Japanese to Spanish to give her a hint of our other half. It was my stranger accent. I used it whenever I met a stranger, because I was bored and I wanted them to think of me a little longer so I wouldn’t disappear from their thoughts so easily. I’ve been perfecting it for 4 years now, and somehow now it sounded seductive. I laughed mentally at Brenda for staring into space at me.
Then it was cut short by my disturbance of what she might be thinking about me. I gave a mental shudder. Oh Angels, stop thinking about it. Gross. I looked at her with a smirk on my face to hide my inner disturbance. “Miss Brenda, are you okay?” after I said that she snapped out of her fantasies.
I didn’t think it was possible, but she got even redder and for the first time, spoke to me weakly, as if she were at my service (okay I really wish I hadn’t finished that
Free e-book: «My Angel, My Devil (unfinished) by Tamara L. Garcia (books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕» - read online now on website american library books (americanlibrarybooks.com)
Add a comment
Comments (0)