“OH MY GOD!”

 

     I shot upright and the man leaped back before I could collide with him. He looked astonished, but recovered quickly.

 

     “Nope.” He grinned, his teeth flashing white in the darkness. “Sorry, but it looks like you’re just gonna have to deal with a second-rater like—WHOA!”

 

     He ducked as my bedside lamp flew right at his face—not quite fast enough. But then again, he didn’t have to—the lamp went clear through him and hit the opposite wall with what should have been his bone-shattering crunch.

 

     He stared at the former lamp for a moment, and then turned back to me, his dark eyes amused. I was already armed and with my alarm clock and preparing for launch, but he suddenly darted forward and grabbed my arm.

 

     “Hold it! That will be the third one this week!”

 

     I stilled. How did he know about that? No wait…how was he floating like that? He was at least a foot off my carpet—oh wait, he had wings. Nice wings, too. Pretty, in fact. Completely black, and soft-looking—I wanted to touch them… No, hold on—WHAT WAS HE DOING IN MY APARTMENT?

 

     I flung the clock.

 

     This time, the guy didn’t even flinch. He just folded his arms across his chest and tapped his foot against the…air…and waited as once again, a bedside accessory passed right through him and hit the opposite wall in a spectacular explosion of plastic shards and little metal springs.

 

     A muffled, “IT’S FOUR A.M. YOU NUTCASE!” floated through the wall.

 

     “You have such nice neighbors,” the man drawled. “Someone could be breaking in—”

 

     “LIKE YOU?!”

 

     “—and robbing you,” he continued airily, as though I hadn’t spoken. Then his voice turned dark as he added, “Or worse.”

 

    “Well how kind of you to worry,” I snapped, “considering you are the robber in this case. And quite frankly, as the…robbee…I am quite capable of defending myself when the criminal’s not a ghost!”

 

     “I’m not a ghost.” He looked thoughtful. “And I don’t think ‘robbee’ is even a word.”

 

     “Fine. Alien. And don’t analyze my words.”

 

     He rolled his eyes. “I’m not an alien.”

 

     “Oh yeah? Explain this!”

 

     I flung my latest bedtime reading at him…and whacked him squarely on the forehead. My jaw dropped.

 

     “OW! Okay…” He reached up, brushed his hair out of the way and gingerly felt his injury. “Now that hurt. Close your mouth,” he added, “before something decides to make itself at home in there.”

 

     But my muscle control had fled, along with any speech capability. I continued to gape.

 

     “You’re a little heathen you know that?”

 

     “But…but…but…” I could speak again…sort of.

 

     “Am I bleeding?”

 

     He wasn’t.

 

     I gave up on trying to say anything comprehensible and settled for a nice glare instead.

 

     “Geez, if looks could kill,” he muttered. He inspected his hand. “Books too. You caught me by surprise there—I forgot about your latest ten-pound page-turner.”

 

     “It would completely and utterly serve you right!” I sputtered, finally finding my voice. “Breaking into my apartment! Hovering over my bed—”

 

     “Mmm…hovering. Now there’s a crime.”

 

     “OVER MY BED!”

 

     “SHUT UP!” That was my neighbor again.

 

     “They’re probably getting ready to call the police on you,” the man smirked.

 

     “My bed!” I hissed.

 

     “Yeah, I got that.”

 

     “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t throw my Biology textbook—that’s at least twice that size by the way—that’s right next to my foot at your head next.”

 

     The guy smirked again, his lips curving into a smile clearly meant to tick me off. Which of course I was so not falling for.

 

     “Since I’m such a nice guy, I’ll give you two.” He held up his hand, two fingers extended. “Number one: I’m prepared for that, so it’ll just go through me like the lamp and the clock did. Which will really irritate your delightful neighbors.” He folded down his middle finger.

 

     “Number two.” He paused.

 

     I waited. And waited.

 

     “Oh, knock off the dramatic stuff.” This time my eyes were rolling.

 

     “Okay,” he gave a small laugh. This guy was having fun.

 

     “Number two…I’m an angel.”

 

     This time I laughed. Then I looked him over properly for the first time that night. Flawless ivory skin. A face that looked like it belonged on a Roman god from mythology. Midnight hair just long enough to flop into his face, as it was doing now. My hand itched with a sudden irrational desire to smooth it back, but I smothered it immediately. He was tall—even without the added advantage that floating gave him—at least 6’5”, maybe taller. He was muscled, but not too much. More toned, than muscled actually. His eyes were of the deepest sapphire blue, so dark that in the right light, or lack of in this situation, they appeared black.

 

     And he had those wings. Those incredible ebony wings. They sprouted from his back and stretched above his head, the tops adding another foot and a half to his already considerable height. They flexed and fluttered, almost as though they had a life of their own. I stopped looking.

 

     “Shut up.”

 

     A delighted grin spread across his face, and his shoulders shook a bit as he attempted to hold in his laughter.

 

     “A guardian angel, to be exact.”

 

     I didn’t allow myself to hesitate. “You’re lying.”

 

     His face turned serious. “Angels don’t lie.”

 

     I’d had enough. It was sometime after four, but my clock was broken—as was my bedside lamp—so I couldn’t check the time. I’d had a very nasty dream so I’d been cheated out of any real sleep, and awoken to find a loony in a winged costume—a very elaborate costume, with wires and everything—hovering way inside my personal bubble. I had two tests that I’d sort of studied for before I conked out last night, but I knew I needed some last minute cramming before school. I didn’t have the time or the energy for this. So I did what any normal eighteen year old would do under these circumstances. I acted like I was two.

 

     I shut my eyes and covered my ears. “I CAN’T HEAR THE LIES!”

 

     My resistance lasted about ten seconds. I cracked open my eyes in time to see his mouth moving. My hands came down from my ears.

 

     “What?”

 

     “I said, you’re upsetting your neighbors again.”

 

     Sure enough, screams of displeasure were floating through my wall again. I sighed.

 

     “You do realize I’m gonna have to sneak out of here now to get to school on time? And I’ll still have to deal with them when I get back tonight, along with the landlady, which will give her the chance to remind me for the fifteenth time that rent is due in “only two days.” I have two tests today and almost no sleep. For a “guardian angel,” you sure are off to a hot start.”

 

     I stopped to catch my breath and chanced a look at him. His confident smirk had disappeared, and his face was completely serious. He raised his hands in surrender.

 

     “Look, I tried to help you with the dream. But since there wasn’t any physical harm, there was only so much I could do. And…” He hesitated.

 

     “And…?” I prodded. I tried not to think about the black feather that had rescued me from my nightmare.

 

     “And you shouldn’t even be able to see me. This is completely against the rules. You’re not even supposed to know I exist.”

 

     It was my turn to smirk. He looked startled.

 

     “What’s with that face?”

 

     “Oh, nothing. It’s just that you have nothing to worry about. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t exist. Because guardian angels don’t exist. You are either a figment of my very tired imagination, or a perverted loony playing dress up in my apartment. If it’s the former, I’m going back to bed. If it’s the latter, I’m gonna hit you with a book again and call the police.” I smiled a candy-sweet smile.

 

     And this time, it was his jaw that dropped.

 

     “You’re not serious.”

 

     “I am completely, utterly, and totally serious.” My smile never wavered.

 

     “I…I…I have wings!” he sputtered. “I am floating!”

 

     “Props and wires,” I countered.

 

     “You’re not that delusional.”

 

     “Remember how very little sleep I’ve had?”

 

     He sighed like he had an entire world riding on his shoulders, from the depths of his soul. And so I took pity on him.

 

     “Fine Mr. Guardian Angel. You want me to believe you?” I walked to the kitchen and opened my silverware drawer. I picked up a long serrated bread knife. I turned back to him. His face was guarded. Expressionless. I held the knife out, point down, right over my foot.

 

     “Guard me.”

 

     I dropped the knife.