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“DITCH... DITCH... KEEP. Ditch... ditch... ah, now she is a beauty!” I exclaim. When my eyes pass over my young student's face, he couldn't look more disappointed in me. I'm standing over Garrett's shoulder, helping him choose a potential mate—which is precisely what we're supposed to do, so why does Chris Pho have such a sneer on his nose? I ask him, “Why do you look as if you've sniffed something rancid?”
His nose loses its wrinkle after that. “It just... it doesn't seem right for you to judge all of those women like that.”
There's an utterly arresting red-haired beauty on Garrett's phone right now. She's in a bikini, and she has curves to make a man go wild. I've never seen a woman's body that I didn't admire. Big women. Skinny women. I adore them all.
“Did you hear me?” Chris asks. “Don't you think it seems kind of un-angelic to make judgments on these ladies' appearances? There's more to them than how they look!”
“Indeed,” I agree, flashing a smirk. If Chris was a lady, or if he liked men, that smirk would make him melt. Actually, I'm not sure he doesn't like men. It would be worth finding out. “But... isn't that the point of an app like this one? It encourages its user to make split second judgments based on a person's aesthetic appeal. Together, Garrett and I are using Swipr for precisely what it was meant for.”
“That doesn't mean I have to like it,” Chris grumbles.
“No... but like it or not, it seems to be part of our mission. Unless you can think of another way to find a girlfriend for Mr. Coyle, I suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself and allow me to assist him.”
I haven't known my student for very long—a mere hour, in fact—but I already don't like him. I will admit that I am an arrogant man, but Chris possesses an air of pomposity that is arguably worse than mine. He's a holier-than-thou sort of fellow. I know his type. He believes he knows right from wrong and he will impose that on me, even though I'm his instructor. He lacks tolerance for anything that isn't in line with his impeccable morals—impeccable by his definition, of course. He's a little Archangel Michael-in-training. He can do no wrong.
When Garrett approves of the redhead, I give him a pat on the shoulder. Either we like the same type of woman, or I influenced him with my thoughts. Archangels are all telepathic. We can hear mortals' thoughts, but it's harder to put a thought into a human's head. It usually involves a lot of shouting to get through to them.
“Do you like men, Mr. Pho?” I ask, simply to sate my curiosity.
“What kind of question is that?” Chris, who is sitting in an armchair, leans back and crosses his arms. “I mean... I guess it doesn't matter to me. Male. Female. I could see myself falling for anyone if they were the right person for me. Physical appearance doesn't matter that much, but... I guess I prefer women.”
“You guess?”
“I've... never really been with anyone before,” the boy admits. “I've never had a girlfriend or... or even been on a date, really. I was sick a lot, so... I guess I wasn't really looking for someone to be with.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” I reply. While we're discussing my student's lack of a love life, Garrett gets stuck on a girl who is—poor thing—a bit homely, so I reach for his phone and swipe her away. “If you always knew you were going to die, I'm sure romance wasn't on your mind.”
“Exactly!”
I get rid of another unattractive young lady. I suppose she might be kind, but I'm trying to find someone on Garrett's level. He's a handsome bloke, after all. “Perhaps you'll find love in the afterlife, eh? Perhaps I'll help you.”
“My teacher wants to help me find a girlfriend?” Chris' voice is flat and rife with disbelief.
“Sure. Why not? If I can do it for Garrett, I can do it for you,” I tell him. “Of course, don't expect me to put a grand amount of effort into it. I'm a very busy man.”
There's an odd beep on Garrett's phone. Before I can ask what it is, my student explains, “I think that means he has a match.”
“You know, for a young man who claims to have very little experience in matters of the heart, you seem to have a great deal of knowledge regarding this... Swipr.”
“I don't have very little experience. I have none,” Chris corrects me. “I only know about Swipr because a lot of my peers used it.”
I lean over Garrett's shoulder to get a better look at his match. It's a fairly attractive brunette named Samantha, and she's a twenty-six-year-old yoga instructor who lives in his city. After a brief conversation by text, they arrange to meet at a restaurant. When Garrett leaves to prepare for his date, I collapse on the couch with a sigh. This is such nonsense. I am Archangel Jophiel. I shouldn't be stuck with nascent spirits, arranging love matches for random men. It's an insult to my talents! I should be taking on demons and training the elite.
“You look... mad,” Chris says.
“Mad as in crazy, or mad as in angry?” I ask.
“Maybe a little bit of both. Your eyes do look a little crazy when you're exasperated about something.”
“You're intuitive enough to know I'm exasperated? At least that's something.” My fingers plow through my hair in a show of rage. “Do you know what I was doing last week? I was negotiating with the leader of the dark forces that has been plaguing humankind for centuries. Now I'm playing matchmaker for some man named Garrett Coyle. It's absurd. This is a job for a peon, not an Archangel.”
“A peon like me,” Chris deduces—and I don't disagree with him.
Garrett returns a moment later, and we follow him to a Mexican restaurant called Taco Verde, where he meets Samantha with a hug. She's prettier in person. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and though she's wearing far too much makeup for my liking, she isn't without appeal. They're led to a corner table and served an enviable amount of salsa and chips.
“That looks delicious,” I share my thought with Chris while making a mental note to manifest myself a similar appetizer when I get home.
“You like salsa and chips?” I can hear the hidden laughter in Chris' voice. “You're an Archangel... and you like salsa and chips.”
“Yes. Who doesn't? Why is that funny?”
“I guess it's just... unexpected,” Chris says. “I don't know. I guess I thought you'd be eating... angel food.”
“And what is angel food, exactly?” I can feel my eyes narrowing into slits as I study him. “There's no such thing. Food is the same for everyone in the spirit world. It is an unnecessary pleasure.”
“Well, there's angel food cake,” Chris mutters under his breath, but I hear him well enough, and it isn't worth a reply.
I listen to bits and pieces of Samantha and Garrett's conversation, but frankly, it's not that interesting.
“You know, you should really consider becoming a vegetarian,” the young lady preaches to him. “There's something really icky about ingesting another creature's flesh. It's just... wrong.”
“You order what you want, and I'll order what I want,” Garrett replies. “Besides, what can vegetarians get at a Mexican restaurant?”
“Plenty,” Samantha says. “This place has really great cheese enchiladas. The bean burrito is pretty good too. They have a few salads, and they even have vegetarian fajitas.”
“Vegetarian fajitas is the dumbest thing I've ever heard of.”
I wince at Garrett's reply. After a few short minutes, it's clear they aren't hitting it off. Damn. I hoped they would. I want to finish this mission quickly and move on to the next one.
When her cheese enchiladas arrive, Samantha blurts,“I actually have a boyfriend already.”
Garrett's face is stuffed with taco, so he doesn't reply right away, but his bulging eyes tell me enough. He's as shocked as I am.
“Don't freak out. We have an open relationship,” she says. “I just wanted to tell you up front, because some people are a little weirded out by it. Is it going to be a problem for you?”
“It's not... a problem. It's just a little surprising.”
I peek into Garrett's thoughts because I'm curious to know his true feelings.
So, her boyfriend is alright with her hooking up with others guys? I don't think I would be alright with that.
“He's not my twin flame or soul mate or whatever you want to call it,” Samantha says. “If he was, it would probably be a different story.”
“Ah.”
That's the entirety of Garrett's reply. A simple, terse, “ah.”
Chris taps my arm to get my attention. My eyes, full of boredom and distaste, wander over to him.
“Does this mean we've failed the mission?” Chris asks.
Apparently, he's also realized this date is a disaster. “No. I'm afraid not,” I answer with a sigh. “Unfortunately, it means our mission has just begun.”