The Preacher’s Daughter and the Devil

It was one of those random twists of fate; a spilled lunch tray, actually. But for an over-achieving preacher’s daughter and the bad boy with nothing to lose it was the last piece to a long-forgotten puzzle.

Angela Hadley slipped out the door from the silent house at 5:45 just as she did every day and walked through the chilled morning air to the bus stop. It would be a long ride and she had to prepare herself for the years ahead of her filled with classes, activities, advanced placement, and college scholarships. It would be lonely, but that’s how it was when you were the brainy preacher’s daughter. There was either rebellion or conformity; Angela had chosen conformity.

As the bus pulled up she quickly checked her ponytail, pushed her glasses squarely on her face straightened the pleats in her skirt. The black exhaust washed thickly over her, causing her to cough violently. Stepping up the steps, being careful not to slip, she took the seat behind the driver.

The hours stretched before her filled with the hollow buzz of friends as they laughed and joked with each other. The air was thick with camaraderie, oppressively so. When the bus came to its final stop, she stepped down through the accordion doors and began the first day of many that were sure to be the same.

Clueless teachers and pointless introductions blurred into each other until the lunch bell broke the rhythm.

Angela melted into the mass of people. All were moving in a hunger-driven trance toward the cafeteria, moving along for trays and food like factory drones. She took her own food and searched the room for a place to sit. Her concentration was broken by a hard shove to her back. Her balance was lost as she slid on a fallen tray, the room tilting she began to fall. Then it stopped. She began to feel the strong arms that were banded around her, keeping her from falling. She looked up into her rescuer’s warm grey eyes and felt butterflies take flight within her.

His deep, smoky voice filled her ears as he brought her to her feet. A grease stained t-shirt adorned with a metal band insignia over ripped blue jeans clung to his frame, a shock of dark hair partially covering one eye, a black earring dangling from his left ear. “Taking a trip, are you?” he said with a slight chuckle.

“No, I’m fine-I mean I was fine.” Angela stammered, a faint blush of embarrassment climbing her cheeks.

“Good. So what’s your name? I’m Christian.”

She looked at his crooked grin and smiled. “Angela.”

“Well Angela, you have made this the most memorable introduction I have had.”

“I’m glad that I could be so useful.”

He was so easy to talk to, she thought. It was like they had known each other forever. Similar in some ways, but in many they were completely different. This was sure to be an exciting and lasting friendship.