Chapter 8 – The Angel on My Shoulder Has Horns – Holly Hayfield

Angelica spent about ten minutes ‘talking’ to Candace. Afterwards, she took me to her car that was parked in the grass not far away. She parked as close to the bird bath area as she could get. Angelica drove well above the speed limit as we left the school. She took me to a secluded parking lot near an abandoned store building. Naturally she carried an emergency medical kit in her trunk for professional reasons. She likely never expected to use it on me. From the injured look on her face she clearly didn’t want to.

My relationship with Officer Angelica Morelli was… complicated. To simply call her my parole officer wouldn’t do. We were more than that. We were friends, or at least that’s what I considered us. Angelica thought of me as something more. She obviously wasn’t the average cop but her eccentricity went even beyond that.

She was once a student at Meredith’s School for Troubled Girls. She graduated but never really stopped being a delinquent. How she managed to become a police officer was beyond me. We were paired specifically because of her background. The people in charge of the decision thought her background would make it easier for us to bond. The only ‘bonding’ she wanted to do with me was illegal. Being aware of her feelings for me, I kept her at arm’s length.

It was raining now. We were sitting in her police car as she wiped the dry blood from my face.

“Turn your head towards me.”

I did as she commanded, but I couldn’t look her in the eyes. I wanted to avoid the awkwardness of staring her in the face. She had made passes at me before. I wasn’t sure how to handle it. Every shameless advance she made risked her job. She didn’t care. Even the way she saved me from Candace and Leigha put her job at risk. Her sense of right and wrong wasn’t something out of a police academy. She didn’t change just because they put a badge on her.

She took the bloody tissue she was cleaning me with and placed it in a small trash bag.

“Look at me, Holly... Look at me.”

I looked at her. It was clear by her expression that it pained her to see me like this. For that I felt guilty. It wasn’t like I wanted my horrible school life to be revealed to her.

“Why did you lie to me about how school was going?”

“I didn’t want you to do something violent, like you just did. If your boss were to find out…”

“Do you think I care about that?”

“That’s exactly why I’m scared. I care about you keeping your job.”

“To hell with this job, your safety comes first.”

“I appreciate that. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’m incredibly thankful that you were able to save me. Still, I don’t want you to lose your job. Think about it this way. What if they assigned another person to me instead of you?”

“Even if they did I’d still protect you. I care about you. If only I didn’t get held up by that damn traffic stop this would’ve never happened. I’m so sorry.”

She began tearing up. Now it was her that couldn’t face me.

“None of this is your fault! It’s just how some people at this school are.”

“I know. I told my boss that you don’t belong at a school like that. You’re better than them.”

“I deserve to be at this school. It’s my punishment.”

“No you don’t!” She said.

She was raising her voice. She turned back and put her hands on my shoulders. I froze. She pulled me into an embrace before I could try pulling away.

“Hey, remember what I told you before? If you want to leave this school I can set you up in an online school system. You could come live with me. I’ll take care of you. I won’t let anyone lay a hand on you ever again. I have a nice house, you’d be safe there. We could go out and have fun whenever you wanted. Why don’t you come live with me?” She asked.

This was the type of situation I wanted to avoid. This wasn’t her first time trying to pressure me into a relationship. The reason I didn’t shut her down was because I was afraid of how’d she react. Would she take her anger out on me? Or would she self-destruct and harm herself. Angel wasn’t exactly stable.

She was formally assigned to look after me. I informally made an effort to look after her. When we first met she was recovering from being injured on the job. I nursed her back to full health over the course of the summer. Then one day she had started coming at me with these odd proposals. My greatest defense against her advances was the fact that she was still my parole officer. Perhaps this was why she really didn’t care about potentially losing her job.

“We talked about this before, didn’t we? We can’t. Think about how that would look to people.”

“I don’t mind. I’m willing if you are. I could find a job somewhere else.”

“It isn’t just about that either. I’m still a high school student. On top of that I don’t turn eighteen until next year.”

She backed away to caress my face in a way that reminded me of Naomi. If I told Angel about Naomi she’d explode. If I told Angel about Val then she might go up to the school, gun in hand. This was why I couldn’t trust her with information about my school life. She was dangerous. Keeping her in the dark about some things wasn’t just for my sake.

She had such a weak sense of self-preservation that I felt it was partly my responsibility to ensure she didn’t lose her job. It was heartwarming to know that she was looking out for me. On the other hand her deeper feelings for me gave me the creeps. Still, we worked things out as friends. For me that was all that I wanted. For her that wasn’t enough.

“Okay,” she said as she pulled her hand away from my face and started the ignition, “You’re a student right now. Once you’ve graduated we’ll talk about this again.” She assured me.

Today, tomorrow, in a year, my answer would be the same. Telling her the truth about how I felt was going to be difficult. Every time this topic came up I kicked the can further down the road. Eventually I’d have to stop kicking the can. Until then I was willing to maintain the status quo.

My life since the first week of school had been status quo. No matter what happened I didn’t want to make matters worse. This student council proposal was the only thing different. This would be my first time stepping out of the routine. Hopefully this would be for the betterment of my school life.

We pulled up in front of my house. The house was nothing special. It was a 2 bedroom trailer smack dab in the middle of the trailer park. The trailer park itself was fairly lively. Groups of kids typically played outside all day until sundown. On the surface the place wasn’t too bad.

During the daytime this place was a wholesome kid’s center. At night the shady people came out and hung around. Angel and my mother both made me promise to never go out at night. There were drug dealers and buyers in the area. This fact was put on display every time Angel dropped me off. We’d often see people walk away from the area as if we were after them.

“It looks like your mom isn’t home yet. I’m glad we beat her home. You’ll need to finish cleaning up inside. I don’t want her seeing you like this. You know your mom already has a lot on her mind.”

“I know.”

“If you really mean that then you need to stand up for yourself the next time this happens. I’ve known people like those two girls my whole life. They’ll try this again if they get the chance. Don’t give them that chance.”

What she was saying made sense. The problem was staying out of those situations to begin with. It wasn’t like I sought them out. They were the ones who found me. What was I supposed to do about it other than run?

Angel sighed. She reached into a bag she had in-between the passenger seat and the driver seat. She pulled out a small black item and then grabbed my hand. I couldn’t tell what it was until she pressed the button on the handle, revealing a hidden blade that flew out the side of it. She put the switchblade in my hand and returned the blade to its resting position. She guided my finger to the switchblade’s release button.

“Use this to protect yourself in case of an emergency.”

“I can’t!”

“Holly, yes you can. You’ll have to if they come at you again. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone but they don’t feel the same way towards you. I’m not saying you have to kill anyone. If you’re lucky you’ll never even need to use it. Just keep it on you as a deterrent. It’ll make them think twice when they see you with it.”

The thought of actually using this weapon against someone made me sick. Just imagining blood pouring out of flesh alone made me want to vomit. The image of doing so was so vivid in my mind that I had to shut my eyes. I could feel my hand shaking. I nearly dropped the knife.

Angel held my hand with both of hers to reinforce my hold on the knife. She guided my finger tips to the grip of the knife. Then she brought my other hand up to guide the finger to the switchblade’s release button. I wanted to let it fall from my hand but her grip on me assured that wouldn’t happen. She wanted to force me to go through with this.

“Look at it and press it.” She said.

I refused doing so. She saw that I didn’t have it within me. She forcefully pushed my fingertip down against the release. The blade of the knife came out swiftly.

“There, was that so hard? Keep it with you.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Keep it! If not for yourself, then keep it for me. It’ll give me the peace of mind that you aren’t totally defenseless when I’m not around.”

I unstrapped my backpack with the switchblade in hand. My backpack was small, lightweight. Whichever textbooks I didn’t need for homework I kept at school. Today I didn’t have any homework and thus no textbooks. Inside my book bag were a few folders, study notebooks, and the book I got from the library. This meant that even if I put the switchblade at the very bottom it’d still stand out.

If by chance a teacher were to check my backpack it’d be spotted instantly. The chances of that happening were slim, but not impossible. The very first week of school we had a backpack check at the school entrance after a major fight broke out the day before. If a teacher were to catch me with the knife then getting expelled would be the least of my concern. My parole sentence would be extended, or worse. I’d be sent back to court.

Angel put her hand on my cheek and gave me a sentimental look.

“Look after yourself, Holly. I know you have a kind nature, but you’re in a different place now. If the bitches come out to fight let them know you’ll bite first.”

I put my hand on hers and nodded. Once she was satisfied with my answer she put her hands back on the wheel. She rested her head against her hands as she watched me unlock the door. I opened the door to get out. I looked back at her as I put one foot out the door.

“Thank you, Angel… for saving me.”

“Give your mother my regards. Tell her I’ll drop by sometime.”

“I’ll let her know. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Get some rest. I’ll talk to you later.”

Her vision felt heavy on me as I got out of the car and walked to my doorstep. She didn’t start to drive off until I was inside and closing the front door. Once the door was closed I turned on the lights to get a view of the place. This place had been my home for such a short period of time that it still didn’t feel entirely like home. We still had all our old furniture, but it was like it was stuck inside this alien environment. It was hard to feel at home in a place like this, but it was the only home we had now.

With a sigh I kicked off my shoes and tossed the backpack onto the couch. Days like this extracted such a large toll on me that I just felt like collapsing on my bed. I couldn’t go to sleep yet though. There were things I needed to do. The first thing I did was go to the bathroom to check out the damage to my nose. Angel had already cleaned up the blood so there was no need to worry on that front.

My concern was with how obvious the injury was. It didn’t look too bad but the bruising on the side of my nose where Candace’s knuckles connected with my face was obvious. Using some ointment from the bathroom cabinet I managed to get rid of the stinging pain. Once the ointment was settled in I covered the bruised area with a bandage. It looked silly but it managed to hide the fact I was punched in the face.

With that out of the way the only thing left for me to do was to get dinner started. Normally I arrived home ahead of my mother. She worked from early in the morning to late in the evening. The office she worked at was clear across town. It was nearly half an hour away by car during evening traffic.

Our old place was much closer to her office. It was my fault that we had to move. Cooking for her was the least I could do to show my gratitude. Typically I had dinner ready by the time she arrived. Today I was going to be incredibly late.

Just as I was putting my apron on in the kitchen I heard the door handle jiggling. I went to go open the door for my mother. The lock was difficult so it wasn’t unusual for me to greet her at the door like this. I unlocked the door after looking through the peephole. My mother stepped in slowly, her suit jacket coming loose. She was wobbling wearily with a one-thousand yard stare. She stumbled and collapsed into my arms. The sudden weight of her barreling into me sent both of us to the floor.

“Mom! What’s wrong?!”