Angels of Los Angeles

Amynta McNair is a seventeen year old born and raised in Aberdeen. She got a scholarship to one of the best all-girls' schools in England, and hates the thought of having to spend her summer holidays in the soaring temperatures of Los Angeles. She soon feels comfortable hanging out with her stepbrother and his friends, but things take a weird and Amynta finds herself hunted by the Archangel Gabriel. And who or what exactly is her father?

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1. Chapter One

“I want you to read your set books ready for September.” Mr Lee tells us our homework for the summer holidays as the bell rings. I pack my books and pencil case into my bag and all but run out of the room. My last lesson of the year would have to be English Literature. I race across the school to my dormitory, ready to finish packing my suitcase.

I stop just short of the door. Rebecca Bogstrom, the headgirl, is standing in front of me. At six foot, Rebecca towers over practically every girl in the school, and she is more than a little intimidating. “Hey, Becky.” I say trying not to show fear.

“How many times do I have to tell you, don’t. Call. Me. Becky.”

“Sorry.” I manage to quickly walk around her and into my Dorm.

The room isn’t it’s usually tidy self. Everyone has their cases thrown open onto their beds, and there are clothes strewn over the floor, wardrobe and chest of drawers. I walk over to my bed, avoiding treading on the other girls’ clothes, and pull my case out from under the bed.

“I’m going to miss you guys.” Susanna Erring says as she folds a t-shirt and places it into her case. “I hope you think about me when you’re all off enjoying yourselves, and I’m stuck looking after my sister.”

She looks over at me. “Especially you, Amynta. You’d better think about me when you’re in LA.”

“Of course I will.” I tell her as I sort through what’s left of the stuff I have to put away. “It’s not like I’m going on holiday.”

“In LA. You get to live in LA, Mints.”

“I’d prefer it if they moved over to this gorgeously wet and miserable land.” I don’t even try to hide the fact that I hate the idea of being in LA.

I had just found out at Easter that Mum had married some hot shot director and I was not impressed that I was being forced to spend holidays in Los Angeles, instead of in Aberdeen, where I grew up. Where I know people. I hadn’t spent Easter over there because Maria Sanchez had offered to let me spend the two weeks with her family in the Lake District. It was an offer that I just couldn’t refuse. I feel more comfortable in horrible weather than I ever could in hot, sunny weather; which is probably why I don’t want to go to Australia.

Susanna on the other hand, would switch places with me in a heartbeat. Her parents are both Doctors, and so they hardly ever get time off work. So, while she’s home for the holidays, they go to work and she has look after her five year old sister.

“Just promise that you’ll video chat with us.” Susanna says.

“Of course I will.” I assure her. I hug her, just as Matron walks through the door carrying her clipboard.

“Erring, Sanchez, Prescott.” Her voice rings around the room. “Your parents have arrived to pick you up.”

“Righto.” Susanna says, with a mock salute, earning a look from Matron.

“Mcnair and Winters, you leave for the airport tomorrow.” As Matron leaves the room, I sink down onto my bed and let out an ‘Hmmph’. I definitely preferred it when I could leave the same day as my friends. I looked over at the only tidy bed left in the room.

“Do you think Penelope will be sociable?” I ask the others. I hear the sound of each of their cases zipping shut, one after another.

“Cheer up it’s only for one night.” Susanna tells me. I give her a weak smile, as she follows the others out of the room. I lie back in the tiny bit of bed not currently taken up by my suitcase and stare at the ceiling. So, not only was I going to have to endure six weeks of Sun and three new step-siblings, I was also going to have spend the night in a room with Penelope Winters, who is quite possibly the most boring person there is, considering her family moved abroad when we were in year eight.

My life must be like some kind of weird version of the Sims.

That’s it my life is a version of the Sims, and God is trying to make me as miserable as possible.

I finish packing my case, and make sure that I have everything, before I sit on my bed and read Douglas Coupland’s Hey Nostradamus. I might as well start my summer reading now, while I have nothing else to do.

Five minutes after I pick up the book, Penelope walks in. Her uniform is still as immaculate as it was when she put it on this morning. I honestly don’t know how she manages it. She heads straight to her bed and sits down to do.... homework.

“Er... Penelope? Aren’t you going to back your stuff?” I ask, but she just gives me a blank look. I go back to reading, before heading down to the last dinner of term.

The dining hall looks a lot different now. There’s only one long table in the hall now, there’s about fifteen of us left, and three members of staff including the headmistress, I sit down in the seat closest to me, between a first year and a fifth year. Penelope, on the other hand, walks over and sits at the opposite end, next to Miss Archer. Once we are all seated, the staff bring the food out from the kitchens, and the rest of us pass the plates down until each person, has one in front of them.

Unlike the rest of the year, the food is actually tasty; a delicious chicken and bacon pasta bake, and Hot Chocolate Fudge cake for dessert. “This is what it’s like every year.” The fifth year – Maggie Matheson – beside me says. “Food that’s barely edible during term time, and then food we can actually stomach when there’s not many of us here.” She takes another mouthful of chocolate fudge cake.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“New York. What about you?”

“LA.” I reply.

“I love LA!” Maggie says; a little too loud, because the rest of the table turns to look at us. After a couple of minutes though, they go back to their own conversations. “So what takes you to LA?”

“Oh, my Mum married some Director.”

“You could sound a little happier about it.”

“I hate the sun.” Was all I good say in response. The truth is, I hate that Mum got married. I mean, it’s not like we needed a man around the house, it was fine just the two of us. Mum was a waitress at a restaurant, and I never complained about the fact that we couldn’t afford to go abroad like everyone else on the street. But now, I have a step-father and two step-brothers and a step-sister.

 

The next morning, I awake to the sound of my alarm at half five. I get up and dressed, before stripping my bed and shoving my bedding into my case with my PJ’s and the clothes that I was wearing yesterday.

After I shove my brush, make-up, and other odds and sods into my school bag, I head downstairs. To my surprise, Penelope is already in the entrance hall waiting with the other girls. I walk over and join them. “Right then.” Mrs Greer, the headmistress says as she walks out of her office. “Let’s see, are we all here?” it’s a rhetorical question, as she counts heads.

“Fifteen. Good.” She walks past us and opens the door. “You can get on the coach now.” We do as instructed and place or cases in the underside of the coach, before settling into our seats.

I put the seatbelt around my waist, and put my headphones in. There is no way that I am going to do the entire journey without Exo.

As the coach sets off, I sense someone sitting down next to me. I turn my head and take my left ear bud out. “Hey.” Maggie is so cheery for this time of the morning, it’s just not normal.

“Hi, Maggie.”

“Come on you should be happy, you’re going to LA remember.” She says giving me a nudge.

“I told you I don’t like sun.” I try to listen to Call Me Baby but it keeps getting drowned out by Maggie, going on about all the things that I could do once I’m in LA.

Once the coach arrives at the Airport, I grab my case and head inside with everyone else. Miss Greer hands us all our tickets, and instructs us as to where we need to go. I head towards WHSmith’s and stock up on sweets and crisps for my eleven hour flight to Los Angeles, and can’t help but to pick up a book and a couple of magazines.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Maggie. Again. For some reason I just can’t shake her off. It’s like I’ve suddenly grown a second shadow. “We’re in the same departure lounge.”

Yay.

“You’ll love LA.” She tells me. What is it with her and LA? Why is she trying to change my mind?

I pay for the items I picked up and put them in my bag, before Maggie links her arm through mine, and drags me to the departure lounge. Thank God we’re on different flights.

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