Santi Grahams has been sent to Earth for a reckoning. The Daughter from Hell, seeking revenge, searching to quench her desire for the blood of the angels of Heaven. After having been stolen from her home on Earth while still a baby, she climbs up Earth searching for her birth mother, and hunting down the halfling that turned her life around. Daddy's girl is done waiting for justice. She's taking justice in her own hands; taking the angels down as she takes down Brighton High.
So it all started one sunny afternoon. Or actually, rainy afternoon. We were all gathered in one room, the class clown who got her heartbroken, Beatrice; the sweet tomboy, Rossalyn; the renowned genius, Charles; the troubled dancer, James; and the one who runs this story, me, Charlotte. "Guys, you should check out what Ross is doing here. She's turning female on us!" Charles practically squealed which made us do the most logical thing to do: rush over to Ross and see what she's doing. "It's nothing, you idiots." Ross defended once we rounded up on her. But of course, we knew better than to believe her 'nothing'. James grabbed her phone while she was distracted and showed the screen to us. The brightly lit phone displayed pictures of a guy who was pretty athletic if you ask me. "Kyle Lennon?! Stalking is a sin, Ross." Beatrice laughed and we did the same as well. "It's not stalking, nitwits. Give me that!" Well, most of us. Ross angrily reached for her phone back but to no avail since James is tall and Ross' height is struggling to reach five feet. As much as I find this situation funny, seeing Ross angry is not a picture you want to see. She becomes unreasonable when you make her mad. "James, just give her the phone. C'mon let's get out of here," I said grabbing my bag from my seat. "Who was that anyway? She seemed pretty engrossed in looking at his pictures." Charles said as he followed Bea and Ross who had already gone out of the room. "Must be another player from last week's tournament," James answered and he got out the door as well. "I don't remember him," Charles remarked before going out. Kyle Lennon. I think—no, I don't think I remember him. But he must definitely be from last week. Unless Rossalyn is seeing guys without telling us. Nah, I really do think he's from the basketball tournament last week. I just can't my finger on which team he played for. He really looked familiar. Too familiar. "He is fucking gorgeous," I said without meaning to. I didn't even think of him that way. But to realize, he is handsome. I need to know him. We made our way to our usual hangout which was the picnic tables in front of the school.
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