Angel Burn (Book 1 Of Angel Trilogy)

Chapter 11| Differences

Chapter 11| Differences

Lucy's POV

"Can I help you?" called the checkout girl.

Coming back to myself with a start, I walked up to the cash register, clutching the tiny plastic hangers. I slid them across the Formica counter. "Um, yeah— just these, please."

When I got back outside, Natsu was leaning against the car, drinking a Starbucks coffee, his light salmon hair ruffled from the breeze. Even just standing there in faded jeans and a leather jacket, he gave off a sense of confidence somehow—of being at ease in his own body. A girl about my own age gave him a second look as she passed; he didn't seem to notice. For a moment I felt embarrassed that he knew I'd bought underwear, and then I shoved it away. None of this was exactly my fault.

As I walked up, Natsu glanced at me. "How did you pay?"

With money, I almost said. "Cash," I told him.

"If you have any plastic, don't use it."

"Do you mind not barking orders at me?" I said tightly. "This is all sort of—difficult enough already, actually."

He gave me a look. Then he drained the coffee and tossed the empty cup into a garbage can. "There's an Internet café across the street; I need to check something out. Do you want to come with me or wait in the car?" His tone was super-polite. I could have kicked him.

"I'll come," I said.

We crossed the street. The café was one of those places where you can buy cans of soda and sandwiches. "What do you want to eat?" asked Natsu as he paid for half an hour's Internet time. "I don't want to stop again tonight."

I knew that I should be hungry—I hadn't eaten anything since an apple at lunchtime— but food had never held less interest for me. I shook my head. Natsu bought two sandwiches anyway and handed them to me in their plastic containers. "Here, put these in your bag." Our eyes met as I stared coldly at him. I didn't care how good-looking he was; it didn't give him the right to boss me around. He let out a breath. "Please," he added.

A few minutes later, he was sitting at one of the computer terminals, laboriously typing something into a search engine. The computer next to him was empty. I sat in the plastic chair and watched his screen . . . and then tensed as a white church on a broad green hill appeared. The Church of Angels site.

"What are you checking?" I asked.

He didn't respond, scrolling down the main screen with the cursor. "Great," he muttered to himself. "They didn't waste any time."

I stared at the screen. My throat felt like it had sand in it. My own face was looking back at me, with text underneath it that said:

Lucy Ashley Heartfilia was seen leaving the Church of Angels parking lot in Schenectady, New York, with a pink-haired youth in a black Porsche Carrera. Have you seen her? Please contact your local Church leader urgently for more information and to find out how YOU can help.

"Oh, my God," I whispered. "But how did they get my photo?"

Natsu tapped his mouth with his thumb. "That . . . book with everyone's picture in it, that you have in high school."

"Yearbook," I said. Was he trying to be funny? But of course he was right; that's exactly where it was from. "Come on, let's get back to the car," I hissed, glancing around me. Suddenly it felt like everyone in the Internet café was busy going onto the Church of Angels website, scrutinizing my photo.

"Not yet," he said tersely, scraping back his chair. "We'd better get you some sunglasses or something first."

Sunglasses at night, I thought insanely as we headed back to the Kmart, remembering the old '80s song. Levy and I used to do that a lot. We'd quote song lyrics at each other—saying them seriously, like we really meant them in conversation, and then the other one would say, "Hey, I think there's a song about that." I rubbed my arms as I realized I was already thinking about Levy in the past tense. God, what was she going to think when she heard that I'd disappeared?