Sassy Angel’s Secret Sin

(Anj’s POV)

“You should have taken medicine, Angela,” Sister Grace said, her index finger holding my chin as if balancing my face. As of my count, she sighed three times already just from studying my face.

Dylan and I had to hurry to take the blankets from the clothesline outside because the cluster of clouds covered the perfect blue sky, hiding the sun and promising a thunderstorm. We reached the porch just in time for clouds to shower their tears on the ground, but before I could hide from Sister Grace, she had already opened the door and seen us.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, glancing at Dylan, suppressing a smile on his pressed lips. My eyes narrowed as I watched him continue our work. “Does my hideous face bother you, Sister?” I asked, showing a playful smile at her.

She scoffed at me, placing her hand on my hair, brushing off the strands on my puffy face to the side, and putting on my blue peacock hair clip.

“Yes and no. Yes, I am bothered, but you’re not hideous,” she said as she placed her hands on my shoulders. The door opened, and Mrs. Antonetta, the culprit, gasped as she saw me.

“Who is this ugly girl, Sister Grace?” The eighty-year-old nursing home resident asked, tilting her head from side to side as she tried to recognize me.

Dylan could not help himself roaring with laughter upon hearing Mrs. Antonetta. He shook his head, glancing at me again, winking, and mouthing, ‘Don’t believe her. You’re still beautiful.” I felt the heat on my cheeks, blushing as he gazed at me.

“Good morning, Mrs. Antonetta!” I greeted her as I helped her step onto the porch, and it was also my opportunity to pretend not to mind Dylan.

“Oh… but you sounded like Angela,” she said, still looking at my face as she sat on the wooden bench.

“Because I am Angela,” I answered, walking toward Dylan and punching him in his arm. “I hate you,” I said, frowning at him before taking the book in my bag, but he only laughed at me.

“What happened to you? You can’t go to a party like that,” she said, adjusting her eyeglasses as I handed her the book she reads daily.

Sister Grace only looked at me, not saying anything.  I know that face, a look that she is still undecided whether to allow me to go or not. With my face now, I would rather not go and sulk in my room later.

went back to Dylan’s side, helping him

children’s party, right? People coming to this place are the same age as Anya or older than her. You’re only

I corrected, hoping I

“Let this poor girl go to the party.” She turned to Dylan. “How about you, young man? Will you

store later tonight,” he answered, glancing at me with

was your age, I would go to every party and enjoy my life,” she smiled at me, leaning her head toward me to whisper. “And make out

my head, she gasped and chuckled

interesting?” she asked curiously. “What are you doing at that university? Just study? Are there no gorgeous guys in that place?” Although we knew she wasn’t, her eyes were round, pretending

Miss Genius here set her foot in the university with Anya and me, she’s only twelve,” Dylan chuckled, tousling my hair. I hissed at him, hating him whenever he did it to me. “Not only she’s young,

getting older. I keep forgetting that your brain is bigger than your head,” she grinned at Dylan, her eyes flickered toward me. “You have to hurry to guard this young lady here. She might be taken

but curved a smile when I saw Sister Grace rolling her eyes

the age of eighteen,” My legal guardian cut in, but Mrs. Antonietta only laughed

she did

had already folded and handing them

Antonetta chuckled, flickering her eyes on her. “I always forget that. Come on, Sister Grace, give this poor girl a break.

must bring Mrs. Wilbur the flowers for the offering for the service tomorrow

as I hear the answer to the prayer I have been asking for days. My eyes went round, looking quickly at Dylan to make sure I heard her right. When he nodded, I pressed my lips, suppressing showing an excited and cheerful smile. She seldom allows me to go anywhere with Anya except the university, library, or the supermarket, and today was like an upgrade to my boring

the door when I called Sister Grace. “Why?” I asked her,

my birthday gift to you, Angela,” she answered. “But as I told you, this kind of party is not for you, and there will

here,” interrupted Mrs. Antonetta. “With that face, she’ll probably be the number one wallflower tonight,

the sarcasm in my words. “But I was hoping to

me to come closer. I walked to her side, sat on the couch, and then waggled my eyebrows at Dylan, which he only smiled as