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?


6. Chapter Six

The car is still filled with silence when it pulls up outside the house. I take my seatbelt off and just sit in the car. “Forget everything you saw tonight.” Michael says finally. “Forget it.” I look at him, mouth open.

“I just found out that Angels exist,” I argue. “I can’t just forget something like that. I mean...”

“Angels don’t exist; it was a prank my brother played on you.” He tells me.

“So I’m supposed to believe that those wings were some kind of... Hunger Games effect, am I?”

“That’s exactly what they were.” He says. He still won’t look at me; he keeps his gaze focused on the windscreen in front. I twist my body to look at him, hoping that he might turn his head to look at me.

“Does Ben know?”


I give up and clamber out the car. As I walk up the front garden path to the front door, Michael drives off.

The house is quiet when I get in, I pop my head round the doors of the Kitchen, living room and dining room, to check that Mum wasn’t sat waiting. When I’m sure that it’s clear, I head upto my room and get out of the dress, which smells so bad and wash myself over the bathroom sink before climbing into my pyjamas.


When I go down to the kitchen in the morning, I find Ben sat at the breakfast table by himself. “Where is everyone?” I ask, as I reach up and grab a cereal bowl out of the cupboard, and head to the table to join him.

“Gone out.” He says with his mouth full. “The guys wanted to take you to the Hollywood sign this morning.”

“I can’t go,” I start. “I really want to get my homework out of the way.” I pour cereal and milk into my bowl, but spend the silence twisting the spoon in my hands.

“What happened to you last night?” I look up at Ben across the table.

“I felt ill, so Michael offered to bring me home.” It’s surprisingly easy to lie to him; the words just leave my mouth without a second thought. He looks at me for a minute and goes back to eating his breakfast. “Did anything bad happen last night?” I ask. Hoping that Michael was right about his brother playing a trick on me.

“No.” Ben looks at me again. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” I pick up my bowl and head for the stairs. “I’d better make a start on my Archaeology essay.”

“I thought you said you were still in High School.” He narrows his eyes at me.

“I am.” I say as I leave the room.

When I get to my room, I dig out all of my textbooks, files and notebooks and place them down on the desk. I take my stuff and spread everything out on the floor so that I know exactly where to find it when I start writing the essay. As I sit down with a notebook and pen I sense someone walking into the room and look round. “are you sure you won’t come?” Ben asks. He’s holding a bag in his hand. “Melissa thought that you might want this.” He said placing it on the floor beside me.

I peer into the bag and see the clothes that I was wearing yesterday, along with my bag. “Tell her I say thanks.” I say looking up at him as I hear the front door close and footsteps making their way up the staircase.

“Ben,” Melissa’s voice sounds out as she reaches the landing. It takes her all of two seconds to appear in my room. “There you are...” she trails off as she notices me sitting on the floor. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

I look down at my PJ’s. “I’m staying here.” I tell her. “I have four essays to write and I need to get started on them.”

“You have all summer to do that.” Melissa states as she walks over and opens my wardrobe. I stand up and debate whether I should go to the wardrobe as well or go to the desk for my laptop. “I love this dress,” Melissa declares as she appears out of wardrobe holding a red summer dress that I’d made myself. “Where did you get it?”

“Uh, I made it myself.”

“Really,” Melissa says, as she thrusts the dress into my arms and goes to examine my shoes. When she comes out, she’s carrying a pair of white wedge heels that she hands to me before pushing Ben out of the room. “Hurry up and get dressed.” She orders as she closes my bedroom door. Apparently the essay that I’m going to find the most difficult to write can wait.

When I’m dressed I grab my bag and phone and head outside, where I find Ben and Melissa waiting next to Ben’s car. “Finally,” Melissa sighs. Ben runs back to lock the house up and we all clamber into the car. “To the Hollywood Sign.” Melissa tells Ben, and I begin to think about how well she would suit a role as a general in the army.

As Ben drives off, a car that I see is carrying Mum and the rest of my stepfamily, pulls into the drive and Ben stops for a minute as his Dad approaches to have a word with him. Once they’re done, we drive off. 

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