***GIDEON***

It's been over a week since we graduating seniors of Balthazar Academy were last here. Now, we're here for the last time, officially. It's graduation day at last.

Paul, as expected, leads the line of cap-and-gowned seniors (green for the guys, white for the girls) making their way onto the football field. Juliet is right behind him, then me. Between Paul and Juliet, there's a gap big enough to fit a whole other angel. As with many official things that have been going on at school since October 27th, the gap is there to represent the missing presence of Steve Walker.

The stands around the field are jam-packed, mostly with our parents. All our friends are gathered around the curved end of the track surrounding the football field, waiting to high-five us as we go by. I deliver high-fives in quick succession to all those non-seniors I know best - Alex and Gabe, Luca and Giovanni, even the ever-energetic Aron Smythe.

It's a surprisingly cool day for this time of year. The sun is shining, but the mountain air is crisp and more than a bit breezy. When I take my seat on one of the folding chairs arranged in ten rows of sixteen each, I shiver a bit as the wind blasts me in the face.

While Dr. Saltz launches into his big speech, congratulating the Balthazar Academy Class of 2015, I let my attention wander and take a look at all the people in the stands. The kids are still in the process of finding seats. I can pick out Alex and Gabe easily, though. They're the only ones wearing band T-shirts - Pink Floyd for Gabe, and Arcade Fire for Alex. I stifle a laugh, seeing Gabe wear the Dark Side of the Moon shirt - which I'm pretty sure is Alex's, unless Alex has his own identical copy. Wouldn't surprise me if he did.

Saltz finishes up, and then there's two more speeches for us to sit through. The first is from Paul (because he was class president), and the second, from Marco (valedictorian). I've already told both of them that I probably won't remember anything either of them says, and they're both okay with that. Marco actually said himself that his speech wouldn't cover any new ground, really, and that what he really wants to say, he can't really find the words for.

I don't blame him. We all went through way too much, especially in November.

So while the two guys talk up front, I keep looking around at the stands, trying to spot other familiar figures. The only others I'm able to find are the Scagliotti family and the Smythes, with Aron sitting right between his own parents.

Finally, the time comes for all of us to walk up to Dr. Saltz and get our diplomas. There's only a small handful of names ahead of mine, all called by Saltz in the same loud, oddly singsong tone as he tries to emphasize every syllable. A few names trickle into my ear, names of guys and girls I shared classes with but never really got to know. "Wina Abarca...Cody Amundsen...Eric Ash...Debra Bilodeau...David Brody...Gideon Cabrera."

I almost don't respond when Saltz calls my name - I'm still not as used to my new name as I thought, I guess. But my reaction is delayed only for a couple of seconds. And hey, Saltz at least managed to get my name right - which is what every educator, especially in California where there's so many people with foreign names, seems to strive for and never achieve.

I'm somehow one of only two people in the entire class with a last name beginning with "C." I mean, sure, there's not even two hundred of us. But "C" seems like a common enough letter. Nevertheless, Saltz goes past me to "Jennifer Chang," then skips ahead to "Lauren Dunn...Samantha Freeman...Ashwin Ganti...Jeremy Griffith...Priya Gupta...Theresa Gupta..." The proceedings move on, still as monotonous as ever. There seems to be a lot more "L"s than any other letter - for example, "Nicole Lieu...Sally Lin...Alejandro Lopez...Aidan Lu..." Then it seems there's nobody with a last name from "M" to "R," because in no time at all, Saltz calls "Juliet Ripley." Then he jumps ahead to "Marco Scagliotti" (whose last name he doesn't screw up, somehow), followed by "Paul Smythe." I definitely remember Paul going up to get his diploma, though, because as soon as he's done shaking Saltz's hand, he turns to the crowd and serves us a two-fingered salute. Everyone chuckles along with him as he finally comes down and returns to his seat.

After Paul, there's only a small handful of people left. When we finally get down to the last two, Saltz calls out, "Steven Walker."

I stiffen in my seat - has Saltz somehow forgotten that Steve isn't here?

Then I remember. Oh yeah. A moment of silence. I join in with the others, bowing my head for a few seconds. During this time, I think about the first time I met Steve, back when I was still known as Dani. It was on my second day here at Balthazar, and I'd gotten myself turned around while trying to find my dorm, accidentally wandering into the boys' wing. (Or perhaps not so accidentally, in hindsight.) I literally walked into Steve - sure, his usual green tracksuit made him hard to miss, but when he walked out into the hall right as I was passing by the door to his and Marco's room, I had no time to react, and we both ended up sprawled on the floor, Steve halfway on top of me.

Our eyes locked, making us blush even more heavily. Finally, Steve clambered off of me, and offered me a hand so I could get up too. Normally, I would have rejected it, but I couldn't bring myself to do so with Steve. He seemed so friendly. A tad bit awkward and shy (then again, any friend of Marco's would be almost certain to share those particular traits with him), but very lively and fun to have around.

The best part was how he insisted on walking me back to my dorm room, getting my name and class schedule (he and I had four classes together), and telling me that he was always open to any kind of "meeting-up thing." I'm not kidding - that's how he said it.

In a different universe, one where I was a girl and Steve hadn't been made to behead himself, I want to think I could have eventually taken him up on that offer.

Finally, Saltz moves on to the last two graduates: "Alexander Wentworth...Laura Zamora." The former gets me to perk up a bit as I hear his first name and think of Alex Snow. Does anyone ever call him "Alexander?" I don't think I'd ever get used to hearing that. "Alexander Snow" just doesn't roll off the tongue as well. It makes him sound like some historical figure, not a relatively ordinary teenage angel. And he just isn't an "Alexander." To me, and probably to everyone else who knows him, he'll always be an Alex.

And now that I think about it, there are a lot of guys named Alex in my class. Steve and Marco may have been the ones most commonly associated with using people's last names all the time, but I think it began because of all the Alexes in our class, and it became a matter of convenience to call them all by last name only. At least, so both my roommates this year have told me.

Done at last. The school band - those of them who aren't seniors, anyway - start playing that old "Pomp and Circumstance" march. That, of course, is our cue to move the tassels on our caps to the other side of our heads, then toss the caps into the air. Luckily, we have no problem tracking them down again afterwards - the guys who made the caps were kind enough to put lines for us to write our names down.

Then people start moving out of the stands to find their kids and start taking pictures on the field. Dad, thankfully, isn't really all that into the whole photo thing - he wants to only take one and be done. Completely unlike my mom, who would take a thousand because none of them met her exacting, perfectionist standards. He also wants to meet my friends, which means he gets to have tons of fun talking to them...and also to foolishly ask why I'm not dating Juliet when she turns up.

"I'm with someone else," she laughs, blushing brightly - but not as much as me or Alex.

"Hey, we should get on over there," I say, pointing to a growing line at the edge of the woods, "or all the good food's gonna be gone."

"Oh, of course," Dad says, patting his stomach. "That long drive from San Castiel really worked up my appetite."

We all laugh along with Dad as we make our way to the woods. The picnic stuff is all laid out on a bunch of tables between two tall extra-tall pines, with more tables gathered in a large clearing. A slow walker compared to us kids, Dad waves me onward. "Go be with your friends, Gideon. Who knows when you might see them again?" We both laugh - damn, he's already got the dad joke thing down. "Oh, and do you want me to hold on to your cap and gown?" he adds.

"Sure thing," I say, removing them as quickly as possible. "Thanks."

I turn around and rejoin the others, then we reach the end of the line for the food. Twenty-four hours later (or so it seems), we're finally at the head of the line. There's so much stuff to choose from - sandwiches, hot dogs, burritos, and even pizza, courtesy of Three Guys.

"Hey, guys," says Russell Aspen, saluting us as we come his way. "You guys must be hella hungry, am I right?"

"Hell yeah, we are," I say. "Especially these specimens," I add, gesturing to Alex, Gabe, Luca, and Giovanni. And myself. "You know how boys are, right?"

Russell grins broadly. "Oh yeah. I used to be a boy myself, so I know the feeling."

"You still look like a boy, though," Gabe says. "How old are you again?"

"Twenty-one."

Alex gives Gabe a punch to the arm. "Too old for you, dude."

"That's all right," Gabe says. "I've got an awesome boyfriend. Too bad he couldn't be here."

"Too bad," Russell says. I'm not sure if he knew already about Gabe being gay, but if so, he's totally unfazed by it. I think. His face gives nothing away, and neither do his thoughts. "Now, let's see...where did I put the pesto?"

"You made pesto?" I say, blinking rapidly and exchanging glances with Luca and Giovanni. My stomach is already growling at the thought of that pesto pizza showing up on my plate.

"Just for you guys," Russell says, sliding a pizza box out from underneath the table. "I pride myself on knowing what the customers like."

"Aww, you shouldn't have," Juliet chuckles.

"I hope you don't mind, but I ate a slice myself." Russell opens the box, showing that he's telling the truth. "Relax, I've already punished myself for it."

"How so?" I ask, selecting two of the choicest slices.

"I deducted a bit from my own paycheck," Russell says.

Luca shakes his head as he takes three slices of his own. "What, you figured out how much each pie costs, then divided it out by however many slices there are, and took out enough from your own stash of cash to make up the difference?"

"Exactly," Russell says, nodding. "Very astute, young man."

"But why punish yourself?" Giovanni asks, taking the rest of the pizza (the last three slices) for himself. "It's so good, it's its own reward. Or something like that."

Russell takes the empty pizza box and lays it back under his table. "'I'm sorry,'" he says in a foreign accent of some kind. "'I couldn't resist.'" He stands back. A grin forms on his face, but then slips a notch or three when he sees Giovanni, Luca, and me (but not Juliet or the twins) staring blankly at him. "Don't tell me you guys haven't seen Django?"

"I guess we haven't exactly gotten around to it yet," Luca says.

"Definitely do it before you die, though," Russell says, winking. "Enjoy the food, guys!"

We wave goodbye to Russell, then move on into the clearing and find seats at a table with Marco.

"So...what are you guys gonna do over the summer?" I ask.

The Scags get into a lively, animated discussion about their plans to go to New York in July, thus proving the "talking-with-your-hands" stereotype about Italians definitely has some level of truth. After this, Juliet jumps in and mentions that her parents are going to take her to Disneyland in August, right before she starts taking classes at UC Santa Barbara. I laugh out loud at this one, and when Juliet looks at me funny, I splutter out, "But...but that's not much of a vacation for you, 'cause you already live in that same town!"

"So?" Juliet says. "Any and all trips to Disneyland are a vacation. And we don't even have to spend on hotels. So there!" She dusts off her shoulders, making me and Marco snicker. That particular gesture became a running joke in our AP Gov class after our teacher showed us a clip from Saturday Night Live in which Barack Obama and Mitt Romney were debating, and when Romney got himself pretty much painted into a corner, Obama just took center stage, dropped his mike, and stepped back, dusting off his shoulders.

Easily, that was the best moment of our year in that class. Well, except for maybe the time when Mr. Blanco caught a guy sleeping in his seat. He brought his lecture to a halt just so he could stealthily sneak up on the guy, put his hands on the edges of his desk, and yell, "WHAT IS YOUR MAJOR MALFUNCTION?"

I remind Marco and Juliet of this moment, while also getting more laughter from Luca and Alex (Luca heard it from Marco, and passed it on to Alex later). Giovanni and Gabe, however, have clearly heard this story for the first time, if their loud, boisterous laughs are anything to go by. Giovanni is actually reduced to pounding his fists on the table.

"What about you?" Luca asks me. "What've you got planned for the drought season?"

I hold up my second slice of pizza, which I've just started eating. "I've got a job in the service industry now," I say. "I'll be serving slices at Joey's."

"In San Castiel?" Luca asks.

"Yep," I say.

"Cool," Luca says. "But it looks like they still don't got any stores in Spellman. Sorry, Snow boys." He frowns at them sympathetically.

"It's cool," Giovanni says. "That's what Arrivederci's is for." He grins, then chuckles as Luca delivers him a fist-bump.

"Arrivederci's?" Juliet asks. "Isn't that 'goodbye' in Italian?"

"It's actually called 'Amici's,'" Marco explains, with his hands as well as his mouth. "We just call it that 'cause Gio, for some reason, found that easier to say. And Luca and I, being little boys too at the time, well, we just thought it was the most hilarious thing ever."

Luca grins. "Hey, at least it wasn't another one of the millions of butt jokes that tickled us all pink in our pre-adolescence."

"That reminds me of those stupid books about the butt wars," Alex says. "What were those called again?"

"Don't ask me," Luca says. "But didn't Mattia used to read those?"

"I don't remember," Marco says. "But yeah, those were always Mattia's favorite. Until she discovered Diary of a Wimpy Kid, that is."

"Never read those," I say.

"Neither have I," says Juliet.

Alex shakes his head. "I used to kinda like 'em, but the movies ruined 'em for me. I guess I was ready to outgrow 'em, though." He turns to Gabe. "But you still watch the movies sometimes, right? 'Cause Devon Bostick is one of your actor crushes?"

"Devon Bostick?" Juliet asks. "You mean Jasper from The 100?"

"Yeah, that guy," Gabe says with a glazed look on his face.

An hour later, the picnic lunch is over too soon. All our friends and family head off for the parking lot to get back into their cars (Alex and Gabe came up in the Scagliotti parents' van), and we fresh graduates make our way to the bus, which will take us further up into the mountains. Our Grad Nite is being held at this state park, famous for its big redwood trees. We're all gonna do a bunch of fun shit outdoors, and then turn in for the night in these guest cabins.

Before we head off, though, Alex pulls Juliet aside and talks to her behind one of the trees. I want to assume it's a cute little make-out session. But when Juliet joins me on the bus, her face does not look like that of someone who's spent even half a minute of Seven Minutes In Heaven. (They even use that name in Heaven, surprisingly.)

"What's the matter?" I ask as the bus pulls away.

Juliet looks up for a split second, then returns her gaze to the window. "Oh, it's nothing," she says. "Believe me, it's nowhere near as bad as you think."

"And what am I thinking?"

"That Alex broke up with me or something."

I nod. "That's right, that's exactly what I'm thinking. But it's not what happened?"

"Nope." Juliet sighs. "I just wish he could've brought it up sooner, though. So we could've talked about it a bit more."

"Talked about what?"

Juliet wrings her hands. "Um, okay. Alex told me he's been dreaming about Fionna again."

"Really?"

"And now you know about as much as I do," Juliet says. "He told me we could talk about it tomorrow, though."

"Can't take care of it today?" I ask. "I know if it were me, I'd wanna find out everything that's wrong ASAP."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with it, unless he's dreaming of making out with her. Or worse."

I try to stifle a laugh. "I don't think you have to worry about that. He's the nicest guy you'll ever meet."

"Besides you?"

"Yeah," I laugh, "which is why you're not dating me." Not that I would want to date her - I like her, but only as a friend.

"Good point." Juliet smiles as the bus reaches the park entrance. We get out and decide to check our issues at the door. It's Grad Nite (or, more accurately, Grad Early Evening), so fun is the order of the day right now.

Juliet and I both amuse ourselves by getting our faces painted - I've never done it before, so I can't help but get unusually giggly as I wait my turn. When I'm done, I have Juliet take a picture of the image on my face - a big green butterfly with black-tipped wings - so I can group-text it to the guys. The text accompanying the picture reads, "Thought you might like this. :)"

Luca responds a minute later with, "Can I put this on Instagram?"

Marco then asks, "You have Instagram?"

"I do," says Gabe.

"Feel free," I say. "I've got nothing to hide, friends."

Gabe then says, "I don't know why, but I wish I was there to tackle-hug you right now."

As if on cue, a boy does exactly that seconds after I receive that text. I scream and jump away, leaving the boy sprawled out on the floor. He backs away from me, looking seriously embarrassed. "I'm so...so s-sorry," he mutters, his head down. "I thought you were someone else."

As the boy walks away, I hear another scream in the distance. Juliet and I both whirl around and see a girl pointing at another girl, one who's carrying a guitar case. I recognize her right away - Annie Troy, the singer from prom night.

"Wow," I say to Juliet. "I didn't know Midnight Daydream already had a legion of one squee-ing fangirl."

"Well, every little bit of support helps," Juliet says. "Did I tell you I helped add to their Kickstarter campaign? They wanna make their debut album and put it in stores by this time next year."

"That would be awesome," I say.

Out of nowhere, there's a third female scream cutting through the park. This is then followed by one of the big trees tipping over very slowly, then hitting the ground with an earth-shattering thud less than fifty feet in front of me.

Juliet and I run from the scene, as does everyone else within spitting distance of the fallen tree. I look around just long enough to see a number of men coming out from behind the tree, led by a woman with blond hair. Not regular golden blond like Gabe, but an icy platinum blond, lighter even than mine. She even looks like a more beautiful, and more evil, version of me, right down to the big green eyes and brown eyebrows.

I then turn away from him as I keep running, trying to find cover (foolishly enough) behind another big tree. Leaning against the trunk, my chest heaving, I turn to Juliet and pant, "Are...are...are you all right?"

"Yeah," Juliet pants back, her hand on her own chest.

A loud, British-accented voice - I'm guessing it belongs to the Daenerys Targaryen look-alike (yes, thanks to Juliet, Luca, and Alex, I know all about Game of Thrones now) - rings out through the woods, calling out Annie's name - except she calls her last name first. "Troy, Annie!" she yells. "You know why I'm here! It's over. You'll never get the Breakers."

"It's too late for you, Jasmine," Annie calls back to her. "We've already got the Breakers."

"You're bluffing," Jasmine laughs.

"Oh yeah? Bluff this!"

I hear the sounds of what could only be an elemental fight in progress, and against my better judgment, I poke my head out from behind the tree to see what's happening.

What I see makes me blink and rub my eyes, because it looks like, even for us angels, it shouldn't even be possible.

Jasmine and Annie are both high in the air, their wings flapping rapidly. But I've never seen wings like theirs before. Jasmine's are bright white, like the sun, and Annie's are black as night. And they look more like they're made of metal or stone than feathers - they just shine differently from what I'm used to.

And their elemental energies are the same color as their wings. Definitely not fire, or water, or air, or land. I realize with a jolt that it must be some kind of light/dark thing.

Elementals which, if I remember correctly from my Basic Magical Theory class, are found only in archangels.

Dz