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NAME: BENJAMIN LEE Worthington
Last Mortal Age: 19
Occupation: Student
Current Rating: 0/10 (*has not completed ten missions yet)
Note: Ben is a troublemaker with little to no interest in spirit guide work. He doesn't listen, doesn't cooperate, and refuses to follow instructions. He even went out of his way to sabotage one of his missions, and he thought it was funny. I would not waste my time on him, and I feel sorry for his future partners.
The first thing that sticks out is the zero rating. It's really rare to see a new student perform that badly. The harsh words of his previous instructor are pretty interesting too. I'm going to try to judge for myself, though. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt.
Early in the morning, I send Ben a text, asking him to join me at the Roseberry Garden, which isn't too far from his dorm. I get no response from Benjamin, and after twenty minutes of waiting, I try again.
My next text says, “Ben, this is your new instructor, Kaylene. I waited for you at the Roseberry Garden entrance, but you never showed up. Where would you like to meet?”
Again, I get no response. Now that he's blown me off twice, I have no choice but to warp to his location.
Bad idea. I end up in a small dorm room, filled with smoke and reeking of alcohol. Ben is lounging on his bed, shirtless, smoking, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. A cold grin raises his lips when he sees me.
“This is the first time I've seen a girl appear out of thin air, but I'm not complaining,” Ben says, exhaling a ribbon of smoke toward the ceiling.
Within the first thirty seconds, I don't like what I see. His body language screams arrogance, and the grin on his lips is extremely off-putting. I rush across the room and turn off his television, which is way too loud, and say, “Ben... I'm your new instructor. Didn't you get my texts?”
“Nah.” He brings his cigarette to his lips and replies on the exhale. “I don't really give a shit about the LightTab.”
Despite my bad first impression, Ben is cute, I'll give him that. He's a tan white boy with curly brown hair, perfect cheekbones, and eyes that whisper trouble. His handsome face has probably gotten him everything he's ever wanted in life. His face has been his crutch.
“What'd your texts say, sweetheart?” Ben asks, taking another drag from his cigarette. If he's coming with me on missions, that's one habit he'll have to quit. I can't stand the smell of smoke.
“First of all, I'm not sweetheart,” I admonish him. “I'm Kaylene, your instructor. It's not appropriate for you to call me sweetheart.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Ben replies, snickering beneath his breath.
I consider myself an extremely patient person. It takes a lot to push my buttons. Patience is crucial in an Archangel, and I'm not going to let one bad student get under my skin. “In my text, I asked you to meet me at the Roseberry Garden. You didn't come.”
“Damn, I does that mean I missed our date?” Ben asks.
Ignoring him, I say, “From now on, the Roseberry Garden will be our meeting place, and you'll meet me there every morning at noon. Do you understand?”
Ben answers with a smirk, “I understand, but that doesn't mean I'll be going. Y'see... I told Amber I would go to her little school, but now I'm having second thoughts. I hated spirit school the first time around. I can't see how things'll be different the second time.” Glancing up and down my body, he adds, “You're pretty cute, though. Maybe I'll be inspired? My first instructor was an old dude.”
I'm not sure how to reply to that, so I say the first thing that pops into my head. “Amber is my mom, you know.”
“Really? Damn, your mom's a bitch.”
Ben curses a lot, and while I don't consider myself a prude, I'm already tired of hearing it. I know my dad wouldn't approve. We're from an era when it wasn't proper to say certain words around a lady, and to be honest, I preferred those days. Unbeknownst to Ben, I load an app on my LightTab that will filter out certain words. Every time he says a word I don't like, I'll hear dagnam instead, and he'll never know it.
“Why don't you like my mom?” I ask.
“She made me feel bad about myself. She almost made me cry.” Ben sniffles, balls a fist, and pretends to rub his eyes. With an exaggerated whimper, he adds, “Actually... I'm just dagnaming with you.”
Wow, that was fast. My LightTab already had to edit him once.
“Anyway,” Ben continues, “I don't really have an interest in going on any more missions. I'll think I'll continue to sit on my ass, if you don't mind.”
“I do mind.” I sit at the end of his bed, which is probably a bad idea, because it brings back his grin. “I don't think you should give up on yourself so easily, Benjamin. Don't you think you deserve more?”
“That's probably the weakest motivational speech I've ever heard,” Ben says. “You're cute, though, so I'll pretend it worked on me. You know, I've always had a thing for black girls. I never dated one, though. I think we should change that.”
Patience, Kaylene, I remind myself. This boy might be an annoying jerk, but you can't lose your temper. My reply is already tinged with irritation. “Are you coming on a mission with me or not?”
“Yeah. In a minute. I want you to answer some questions first,” Ben insists. When his cigarette returns to his lips, I'm tempted to yank it from his hand and make it disappear.
“I'll answer your questions if you answer my questions,” I negotiate with him. “I don't think it's fair if you get to ask all the questions.”
“Alright,” Ben agrees. “I'll go first. How old are you? I mean... how old were you when you died?”
That question is easy enough. “Twenty.”
“How'd you die?” Ben asks.
“A cholera outbreak,” I reply. “How did you die?” I could probably search for this information on my LightTab, but I'd rather hear it from him.
“Drug overdose,” he answers casually, as if it's not a big deal.
I squeeze in another question before he can ask one. “How'd you get that scar above your eye?”
“My friend and I were fighting over a girl,” Ben says. “I was winning, but then that asshole whipped out a knife and sliced me. He cut my shoulder, too. If you look close, you can see that scar too.”
I might have to add asshole to my list of unacceptable words. “A knife fight with your friend sounds a little extreme.”
“Yeah, well... we were always like that. I know I seem like a dick, but my parents probably made me this way. Mom was always high and dad was a nut... and don't get me started on my stepdad. I didn't have a lot of good influences growing up.”
I don't know if I want to delve much deeper than that, so I stop asking questions. I think I've learned enough about him—for now.
“When were you alive?” Ben asks.
“Around the turn of the century.”
He guesses, “So... the year 2000 or something like that?”
“No. Try 1900,” I reply. “Things were a lot different back then.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.” Ben finally sits up and snuffs out his cigarette. I resist the temptation to celebrate. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
I shake my head.
“Did you have a boyfriend when you were alive?”
I shake my head again. I've had suitors, but I've never had an official boyfriend. That might seem crazy to some people, but I'm really dedicated to Archangel training, and the only guy I've ever wanted is out of my reach. Some people think I'm just not interested in romance, and I'm okay with that.
“Do you want to know if I have a girlfriend?” Ben asks.
I answer with a roll of my eyes, “Not really. Now... haven't we asked enough questions? I think we should get on with our first mission.”
“I guess so, Teach.” Instead of manifesting his clothes, Ben rises from bed and hops into a pair of jeans. “Is it alright if I call you that? Teach?”
“I could try to tolerate it, but I would prefer Kaylene,” I reply. “Put on a shirt and let's go.”
“Are you sure that's what you want?” Ben asks. “Most girls want me out of my shirt.”
The arrogance of this boy is making me ill. He makes me miss some of the worst students I've ever had. I toss a t-shirt at his head and reiterate, “Let's go.”
“Alright, alright...” Ben finishes getting dressed and adds, “Damn, girl, you're in such a hurry.”
“I'm not. I'm an extremely patient person, actually,” I tell him. “And since you're already testing my patience... that should tell you something about yourself.”
Without another word, I warp us to our first destination.