The Devil's Assistant

Tiffany-less

Hmm, that was quite an interesting chapter, wasn't it? He he. Hope you enjoyed. Well, here's Chapter 7. Xoxo.

         C.H.A.P.T.E.R. 7

      Whew. I let out a breath as I walk up the stairs, doing my best not to run full force and stomp my feet. That was hard. It was hard not punching Will in his goddamn, stupid, jerkish face. No guy takes advantage of me. I groan quietly. Except one just did. And now I have to spend the rest of eternity with him. I can only hope Sheldon doesn't find out.

      I hear whispers coming from the kitchen, and then the slam of the back door. I keep walking to my room, my back straight. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder, and Will's right beside me.

     "Tiffany," he says, speaking quietly. My eyes flare, and I'm glad he can't see them from where he's standing. How dare he act so calm and collected? He should be on his knees, begging for forgiveness! I'm not the type of girl that gets played.

      But I take a deep breath and turn to him, giving him a bright smile. His takes in a breath, surprised that I'm smiling. I take step closer and clear my throat. Then in one sudden motion that surprises me even more than it surprises Will, my fist connects with his face, meeting his jaw with a loud crunch.

      Will shouts and presses his hand against his chin, his eyes full of pain. "Dammit, Tiffany!" He rubs his jaw, his eyes smoldering into mine. But he's still not mad. I watch as his broken jaw heals itself within ten seconds, thanks to his invincibleness. 

      "I guess I deserved that," Will says finally. I roll my eyes as if to say, "you think so?" and turn away to walk into my room. But then he's in front of me, blocking my way. I put my hands on my hips. 

      "What the hell do you wa-" Will pushes me against the wall, his hands on either side of my shoulders. I narrow my eyes at him.

      "Get the eff off of me, Will, or so help me--"

      "Listen to me," he says. "It's not what you think." 

      I snort. "So you're telling me you weren't just fooling around with your girlfriend while I was in the same house, despite the fact that you failed to mention you even had a girlfriend to me when we were fooling around last night? Because if it isn't that, then please tell me what it is." I cross my arms, and wait for him to counter my statement, fully equipped with a suitable argument. "And give me one good reason I shouldn't just go straight out that door and catch up with her and tell her the truth."

      "Look. I really don't think you should get mad at me before knowing my side of the story," he says, looking into my eyes. When he sees I'm not protesting, he takes a deep breath.

      "Alison was my girlfriend in high school, ever since we were sophomores. I know what you think. That she's just a dumb blonde, or whatever sarcastic thoughts are running through your mind right now about her."

      I raise an eyebrow.

      "But she's not," he continues. "I mean, maybe she's not the brightest crayon in the box, but she has her qualities. . ." He shakes his head, not wanting to trail off topic. "But I want you to know that the reason I texted her to come over here so early, was so I could break up with her. I haven't had time to since I left home, and I decided I didn't want to go through that whole long-distance relationship. And," he takes a deep breath, "after meeting you, I realized I just didn't go for bimbos anymore."

   I snort. "That has got to be the worst apology line ever. And besides, if you were going to break up with her, why the hell were you making out with her?"