Immortal City

Maddy blushed and looked down, fiddling with her fork. She wondered why she could never stand to have anyone compliment her looks. She didn’t think she was unattractive, but as a realist, she knew she was average. She had shoulder-length brown hair, brownish-green eyes, and a normal, if slender, body. The only makeup she had were some things that her best friend, Gwen, had given her for her birthday, and she almost never used the stuff. Gwen also launched an exasperating campaign every six months or so to get her to dress “cuter,” which Maddy always evaded — she didn’t care about all that. She had to work the morning shift, get good grades, and maybe, just maybe, get into college on a scholarship. No time for clothes and makeup — or boys.

But if she was honest, part of it was that if she even began to think about what would happen if she put on makeup and dressed “cuter”—about the attention she would get, or maybe worse, the attention she wouldn’t get — her stomach flipped in anxiety. So she mostly just hid behind her gray hoodie and her iPod earbuds. It seemed easier that way.

“I want you to know I’m proud of you,” Kevin went on, “and your parents would be proud of you too.” Maddy paused, another bite of egg poised in front of her mouth.

Kevin rarely mentioned her parents. They had both been killed in an accident when Maddy was a baby. Kevin was a kind man, and a good man, but if she was being honest with herself, she missed having parents. She missed their role in her life, and she missed them, even though she had no memories, no recollection to hold onto at all.

Kevin was still talking. “I know it hasn’t always been easy in our little family. I know working at the diner isn’t your favorite—”

“It’s fine, Kevin,” Maddy interrupted, feeling guilty.

“It’s no dream job, I know. But I want you to know that I really appreciate your help.” Maddy smiled at him over her cup. “And besides,” he went on, brightening, “I think our luck is due to change this year. I really do. Just you watch, Maddy, this place is finally going to take off!”

Maddy’s gaze drifted out the back window, out once again to the view of the famous sign on the hill. Giant white letters, fifty feet high, spelled out the iconic words ANGEL CITY. To everyone else the sign was a symbol of glamour, an icon of the Angels’ wealth and power. Maddy just couldn’t bring herself to care. Housing was actually pretty cheap up on this side of town, and all the sign really meant was that she had to endure those annoying Angel Tours tourist buses coughing blue exhaust on her walks to and from school.

People all over the world would kill for a chance to live in the middle of the action — in the glorious Immortal City — but as far as Maddy Montgomery was concerned, she couldn’t wait to get out.

Suddenly Maddy realized her uncle was staring at her.

“I’m sorry?” Maddy asked.

“Our luck, Maddy,” Kevin said, “I feel like it’s finally going to change.”

“Right. Me too,” Maddy said, and tried her best to believe him.

The door jingled as more customers came in. It was starting to get busy again.

“I better get back to it,” Kevin said, “But have a great day at school, okay?” Maddy nodded, and Kevin rose and left. After he had gone, her eyes fell once again on the view out the window and the famous sign. Maybe her uncle was right. She was a senior now, and next year hopefully meant college. Maybe things were looking up for her.

Then, realizing she was about to be late for school, she ran to the back to change.

* * *

The walk to school took Maddy down Vine Street and through the heart of Angel City. She passed under the towering billboards of Angels selling jewelry, sunglasses, designer handbags, and luxury cars. Half-naked Immortal bodies were the alluring backdrop for labels like Gucci, Chanel, Louis Vuitton, and Christian Dior. Maddy only casually glanced up at them. She had never had fancy things, not that she was complaining. Most of her clothes were from Target or were secondhand, and she didn’t own any jewelry, or even a proper handbag for that matter. She was also one of the only seniors without a car, and if you didn’t drive in Angel City, you didn’t exist.

Listening to her iPod shuffle, Maddy barely noticed as she turned onto Angel Boulevard and strode down the famous Walk of Angels. She unconsciously stepped over the names bronzed in the sidewalk, the names of the most famous Guardian Angels placed in stars to be forever celebrated. She passed the souvenir shops selling little plastic Angel statues, fake wings, and T-shirts with slogans like SAVE ME! on them. She wove her way through the wide- eyed tourists looking around excitedly, hoping to catch even a glimpse of a flawless Immortal. Eyeing them, Maddy wondered if there was something wrong with her. Why couldn’t she bring herself to care about what the rest of the world seemed to be so obsessed with? What were they seeing that she seemed to be missing?

Suddenly Maddy had to stop herself from crashing in-to a throng of excited tourists blocking the sidewalk. They had gathered around a shiny new star with no name on it — the star of a soon-to-be Guardian Angel. A couple girls let out screams of delight as they posed for a picture next to it.

“What’s going on?” Maddy asked.

“Don’t you know?” a woman replied. “That’s Jackson Godspeed’s star! He’s being Commissioned this week!”

This Angel, of course, Maddy had heard of — everyone had. He was the hottest, wealthiest, and most eligible young Angel in Angel City, or so she had been told. To Gwen and millions of other screaming fans, he wasn’t just an Angel.

He was a god. Tourists held their cell phones high, taking video of the star and chatting excitedly as Maddy squeezed through the crowd. How can you get so worked up over a sidewalk? she thought.

While waiting for the light to change at Highland Avenue, she didn’t even glance up at the screens breathlessly reporting a “MIRACULOUS LATE-NIGHT SAVE IN TWO-CAR COLLISION IN MALIBU. WE’VE GOT AN EXCLUSIVE WITH THE PROTECTION — ANGEL CITY’S NEWEST CELEBRITY, BRAD LOFTIN!” After a moment she crossed the street, dodging a shiny new Mercedes that had no intention of slowing for her, and hurried the remaining three blocks to school.

* * *

Angel City High was not what you would think. It was not, as the name suggests, where the rich and famous Angels go to school. Years ago that might have been the case, but that was long before young Angels were pulled from the public school system and put in exclusive private schools. Despite the plaques on the wall recording the famous Angel alumni who had once been students there, the last Angel at Angel City High had graduated in 1969. Nowadays it was just another subpar public school.

After passing through the chain-link fences and metal detector, Maddy walked under the faded HOME OF THE ANGELS sign and entered the crowded hallway. Like a well-worn routine, no sooner had she arrived than she was joined by Gwen, who was reading her BlackBerry. Gwen was wearing a jean miniskirt and revealing halter top she would probably be made to change out of by lunch.

“OMG,” Gwen murmured as she scrolled through paparazzi photos, “Vivian Holycross looks so cute in those boots. And did you see the Malibu save? It’s all anybody’s talking about this morning.”

“Of course,” Maddy said ruefully, “Angels.” Angels were pretty much the only thing that seemed to matter to Gwen at all. Every day she read the Angel blogs and tuned into Angel television to hear the latest and greatest about the Angels’ perfect lives. The clothes they wore. The places they went. The fancy cars they drove and the amazing houses they lived in. Gwen had been known to obsess for weeks on a save if it had been one of her favorite Angels.

She kept track of who was friends with who, who was Protecting who, and, most importantly, which young Angels were dating each other. Gwen was definitely what they called “Angel Crazy.”

“And who is Vivian again?” Maddy asked as they headed to their lockers.

“Honestly, Maddy,” Gwen said. “How can you live in this city and not know these things? Vivian is only the most beautiful Angel on the planet. We would so be best friends.

If I can’t marry Jackson Godspeed, I want her to.”

Maddy leaned over her friend’s shoulder and looked at her Berry. On the screen was a picture of a stunning bru-nette running with a handful of shopping bags, hiding behind a pair of Chanel sunglasses.

“Why do you read that stuff?” Maddy asked for the hundredth time. “That guy Johnny whatever who blogs about the Angels is such a jerk.”