Chapter 2

Anna shuffled into class, her messenger bag over her shoulder and her head down – a habit of hers. Because of this habit, she almost crashed into an Irish woman who was approaching her. Fortunately she stopped short of a full-on collision and snapped her head up in time. "Oh, sorry, I didn't see you there."

"Generally what happens when you keep your eyes on the ground," the woman replied, a warm smile on her face. "I'm Monica."

"Anna. Are you taking over for Clark?" Anna asked, now giving her a critical once-over after realizing the possibility.

Monica shook her head and indicated an elderly woman sitting in the corner, and another who was talking to the professor. "No, they are. They're my friends, and I decided to stop by. Anna…Anna Harper?"

Surprised, Anna answered, "Yeah…how'd you…"

"I'm your new advisor. I believe we have an appointment tomorrow," Monica explained.

The light bulb clicked in Anna's brain, in her opinion, an instant later than it should have. Of course it would be that Monica. Unpleasant coincidences make up the story of my life. Not that Anna instantly hated the woman – quite the opposite, in fact. But Anna liked to make good first impressions when it came to faculty. Right now, she was dressed in jeans that were on their second day of wear, a t-shirt, and her dirty old sneakers since it'd been raining that morning. "Oh, yeah. I swear I won't be such a mess then," Anna joked weakly, wringing out a strand of still-damp brown hair. "At least my hair will be dry."

Chuckling, Monica assured her, "Don't worry about it. So, what would you like to talk about tomorrow?"

"Not much. I really just need a second opinion on my internship resume. I probably won't bother you much otherwise," Anna said.

"You won't be bothering me at all, I assure you. I'm your advisor now – I'm here to help you whenever you need it," Monica reminded her. Noticing the professor standing at the podium, she said, "Well, I suppose I better be going…and you should take a seat."

Nodding in agreement, Anna replied, "Yeah. Nice meeting you, Monica."

"Likewise," Monica said, giving her one last smile before leaving the room.

Sitting down in her usual seat, Anna leaned over and whispered to her friend in the class, Lizzie Thompson, "Hey. What do you think of the subs?"

"You mean the…chatty, woman over there?" Lizzie answered, nodding to the woman who'd only just now finished talking to their professor and sat back in her seat. "She's taking over the class? This should be interesting."

Frowning, Anna explained, "Well, her and that elderly woman over there. Why, what were they talking about?"

"I…I'm really not sure," Lizzie answered, an amused smile on her face. "Clark started telling her all the different genres we've done, he mentioned touching on the novel in the last few classes…and she starts going off on a rant about the history of novels starting from Don Quixote. For once in his life, Clark was totally dumbfounded. I wish I had a camera."

Anna couldn't help but laugh at that. However, while Lizzie told the story to some other classmates, Anna began to worry that Clark leaving wouldn't be the academic vacation she thought it would. She didn't have time to build up to a panic, though, as Clark called the group to his attention for the start of class.

"Hey, everybody," Clark greeted, opening his lesson plan at the podium. "Our last class together is finally here. But I'd appreciate it if you waited until after I left the room to start up the celebration party...though sometimes I do wonder what some of you really drink in those 'coffee' cups," he joked.

After waiting for the splattering of laughter to die down, Clark continued, "Of course, you're all probably wondering what will happen to you once your beloved professor is gone. Have no fear – you will be in the capable hands of these two ladies, Tess and Gloria. It comes as no surprise that Tess has had many years of teaching experience…"

"Yes, hundreds. Who do you think first suggested Mark Twain to pick up a pen?" Tess interrupted with a trace of sarcasm. Anna tried not to roll her eyes at her professor's blatant dig at the substitute professor's age while the class laughed at Tess' joke.

"…and Gloria has extensive knowledge of the history of novels…as well as, I'm sure, any other genre you'll cover," Clark continued, barely concealing a glare while Gloria just gave the class a warm smile.

"My guess is that Professor Know-It-All doesn't like being shown up," Lizzie whispered to Anna, unable to conceal her happiness.

Anna nodded in agreement, a smile on her own face as she couldn't help but reply, "Obviously. I won't miss him during the next few weeks, that's for sure."


"Jeff, you can't do this!" Andrew shouted through the locked dorm room door, his palms flat against the painted wood. It was going so well, the angel lamented. He was really coming around, and then…I don't know what happened.

For the past two weeks, Andrew was assigned to be Jeff Madison's counselor. After the sophomore was reported for showing up to a class drunk, Jeff was labeled with a drinking problem and sent to student-court mandated therapy at the school counseling center. To make matters worse, Jeff was only twenty – underage, and under threat of expulsion if he didn't obey the ruling. While Jeff resisted attempts to get to the root of the problem at first, Andrew soon discovered their main cause for concern. Like many college students, Jeff felt like he was in a constant state of limbo, never knowing what career to follow or what would happen to him once he reached graduation.

To alleviate this confusion, Jeff turned to alcohol. He claimed it was to help him push aside his anxiety for a few hours and focus on his school work. Andrew quickly determined that it was really to help Jeff forget his worries ever existed in the first place. Managing to get through some productive sessions, the angel of death had become certain that he would be able to do what he'd come to do – prevent Jeff's alcoholism from costing him his life.

Because that was why Andrew had been sent to Jeff, and not a caseworker. If Jeff continued on this same path of self-destruction, there would come a night in the next two weeks or so when the student would drink himself into a stupor, attempt to drive himself home, and end up in a fatal car crash. At first, when Jeff resisted help, Andrew was worried he wouldn't be able to prevent the crash from happening. But given the positive effects of the sessions, Andrew was starting to have hope that he wouldn't have to take the young student home so soon.

Then, Jeff missed their meeting earlier that day, and Andrew had no idea why. The thought that Jeff may be working himself into that ill-fated stupor at that very moment was what propelled the angel of death to come knocking at Jeff's door. "Please, Jeff…" Andrew said, lowering his voice a notch. "Tell me what happened. Why did you miss your session?"

"I told you, I don't need to go!" Jeff replied, just loud enough for his voice to be heard through the door. It was said in a calm and upbeat voice that sounded eerily false. "I've decided that I'm fine. Having a drink every now and then doesn't hurt, you know. So, thanks, but sorry I've wasted your time."

His frustration mounting, Andrew argued, "Downing half a bottle of vodka in two days is not 'a drink every now and then'! You have to see what you're doing to yourself!"

"What I'm doing is making myself feel better! Now, I'd appreciate it if you leave me alone," Jeff shouted.

Andrew's heart sank when he heard the sound of glass breaking, indicating that the student had already finished a bottle in order to be able to smash it against the door. Not knowing what else to do, the exhausted angel turned around and leaned his back against the wood, trying to prevent himself from sliding down to the tiled floor in defeat.

"Hey, what's going on? I heard a crash."

Looking to his left, Andrew saw a blonde female student poke her head into the dorm hallway, concern on her face and a pack of cigarettes in her hand. Using the last remaining bit of energy he had, Andrew stood up straight and faced her as he explained, "Jeff…is a little upset right now. I'm a concerned friend of his."

"Join the club," the blonde replied. "He's been drinking more than me lately, and that's scary. I can't help but feel guilty."

Curious, Andrew asked, "Guilty? Why?"

"I just turned twenty-one and spotted him a few cases of beer," the young woman explained, remorse clear in her words. "Of course, this was before I realized that he had a problem. I just thought he wanted them for a friend's party or something."

Giving her a reassuring look, Andrew said, "It's alright, I'm sure you couldn't have known. Did you know he was only twenty?"

"Well, yeah…" the student admitted, her face turning red. "But it's college, you know? Please don't report me! I promise, I haven't provided alcohol to a minor since!"

Andrew chuckled and replied, "I promise I won't bust you. Wait…how close are you to Jeff?"

"Pretty close. My roommate and I hang with him practically every day. Why?"

"Can you do me a favor and just…talk to him for me?" Andrew asked, feeling somewhat more relieved at the unpredicted option as he spoke. "You said you realize he has a problem…just try to make him see that if you think of it. Maybe if he hears it from his friends, he'll be more willing to go to counseling and later Alcoholics Anonymous."

The young woman nodded and said, "Of course. We've tried, but I guess we'll just have to keep at it." Her gaze drifting to the cigarettes in her hand, she added, "Well, I'm going to step outside. You wouldn't happen to have a lighter on you, would you?"

"No, I don't smoke," Andrew answered.

"Good for you. It's a filthy habit," she replied, sighing. "For future reference, by the way, I'm Hallie Morgan."

"Andrew. Nice to meet you," the angel replied. Once she went off down the hall, Andrew glanced at Jeff's still-closed door one last time before reluctantly following the advice to "leave him alone"…at least for the moment. What else could he do?


In her new office, Monica continued her small mission to familiarize herself with her surroundings. Since reassigned students had been coming in and out during her office hours, she hadn't had much time to settle in. Fortunately, she did have some form of a guide. The dean of the building had given her the expected tour, then a short explanation of the expected duties as well as a computerized list of her advisees. Monica was at her desk right then, browsing the database and glancing over the files of the students she would see that day.

Her mind began to wander after about the fifth file. She should've been concentrating on her upcoming meeting with Anna in only about five minutes. But instead, thoughts of her friends kept interrupting – specifically, Gloria. Of course she trusted Tess with every fiber of her being, and she had no doubt that the elder angel would treat the younger with the greatest care. But there were times when that care, where Gloria was concerned, required large amounts of patience. And there were times that Tess' patience ran out sooner rather than later.

Consoling herself with the idea of checking in on the two other angels when her last appointment was over, Monica refocused her thoughts on where they should be focused – her latest assignment. Anna would be walking through the door soon, and she only had a loose idea of her plan of action. Monica's eventual goal was to build Anna's confidence and avoid depression, so she came up with getting the writer to submit her work to the campus literary journal. From what the angel managed to find out, the journal accepted nearly everything – ensuring that there would be little chance of the reverse effect that rejection would cause. It was Monica's hope that the small success would put Anna on the right track.

There was a rustling noise that came from the hallway. Startled, since there had been almost complete silence, Monica got up and opened her door wider. She smiled when Anna came into view, picking up a notebook that had fallen onto the tiled floor. "Hello there. You're right on time."

"Would've been here earlier if I hadn't dropped my book," Anna said, following Monica into the office. "I have my resume with me, so this shouldn't be long."

While Anna took a seat on one side of the desk, Monica sat in her chair on the other side and replied, "It can be if you want to talk about anything. My next appointment doesn't come in for another twenty minutes."

"There isn't anything else, really," Anna tried to assure her, pulling her resume out of her notebook as she spoke.

Monica leaned forward on the desk, not convinced in the least. The student had avoided eye contact with her since she walked in the room, and she seemed to have her mind on something else. "Are you sure?" Monica pressed.

Stopping her rummaging for a brief second, Anna sighed and admitted, "Well, it's not about me, but…my neighbor, Jeff…he's been drinking a lot. I'm worried about him. But my roommate told me that Jeff's counselor, Andrew, seemed really nice and actually concerned for his well-being, so we're hoping Jeff will recover soon."

Monica paused to recover from the surprise at that before she replied, "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." So that's what Andrew meant when he said our assignments would cross paths, Monica thought in amazement. Shaking her head, she asked, "So how are your classes going this semester?"

"Alright, I guess," Anna replied with a shrug. "Nothing unusual, midterms coming up in a month or so. I think I may drop this one class, Intro to Creative Writing. I thought it'd be easier, but I'm just not getting it, and the deadline to drop a class isn't for another week or so."

The confession caused Monica to stare at Anna with maybe more shock than she should've shown. "No, you can't!" the angel almost yelled. When Anna sat back and raised an eyebrow in response, Monica composed herself and explained, "What I mean is…surely, you're giving up too soon. I've heard that you have the potential to be a great writer. In fact, I was about to suggest that you submit your work to the school literary journal."

"Why bother with that? They'll accept almost anybody," Anna argued.

"But you'll be published, won't you?" Monica pointed out. "Which distinguishes you from many other writers…and certainly a sign that you should stay in a creative writing class."

Giving the argument some consideration, Anna then shook her head and replied, "No, even if I did get published…I couldn't stand the thought of a bunch of unknown readers laughing at my work."

"But what if people like it? You'll never know if you don't submit," Monica replied, trying to ignore her mounting panic. Her assignment had barely started, and already it seemed as if she were thrown in the middle of an uphill battle.

"But…" Anna trailed off, ready to give a negative answer. However, she seemed to change her mind at the advisor's strange yet honestly disappointed look on her face. "…I guess I could think about it."

Holding back a sigh of relief, Monica took the resume from where Anna had placed it on her desk and said, "That's wonderful. Now, let's get to work on your resume."