An Angel Wears Hightops [A Sequel to The Devil Wears Girl Jeans]

An Angel Wears Hightops (Chapter 12)

Mickey was gone when I woke up the next morning.

I sauntered into the kitchen at around 9:30, only to find Halden sitting on the kitchen counter in his boxers, holding yet another note. Apparently this family was really big on notes, because this was like, the hundredth one I'd received during the week I'd been staying here.

“What's going on with Poe and Mickey?” he asked with a yawn, his hair sticking up wildly.

“They're, uh, going on a trip to go visit some family member. Can I see that?” I asked, plucking the slightly crumpled paper out of his hands. He frowned at me slightly, but let it go.

“I'm making breakfast, do you want toast or cereal?” Halden asked, a hint of forced friendliness in his voice. I nearly rolled my eyes, but stopped myself. At least he was making an effort to be nice, the least I could do was not be a sarcastic bitch about it.

“Toast, please.”

“Sure thing.” he said with a hint of a smile as he hopped down from the counter and headed over to the fridge. I sunk down into one of the dining room chairs while Halden eyed me curiously, and quickly unfolded the note.

Hartley,

Currently, you're passed out on the couch, and I just thought I'd let you know that you are definitely not a cute sleeper. I know that I told you I wasn't leaving until noon today, but obviously, I lied. I knew that you would've tried to come with me, and I probably would have caved and let you. I am a weak, weak man. But trust me, it's safer that you stay here. Please don't be too mad at me.

Now, this note is more than an apology for leaving. I'm not going to sugar coat things: I might not make it back. The people I have to go talk to are not good people at all. Serial killers, arsonists, people who harvest organs to sell on the black market, you get the point. Even though I've never talked to him, I feel an obligation to Dallas to make sure nothing bad happens to you, ever. Also, you're my best friend so that might have something to do with it too.

Now, if I don't make it back by Wednesday, you're going to need to follow my instructions closely.

1) On the middle shelf of my bookcase, there's a plain looking brown book called The Art of Sharing. Take it out, and open it. It's hollow, and inside is enough money to get you out of town. Roughly ten grand.

2) In the bottom of my closet, there's a duffle bag filled with everything you're going to need. Don't take anything else with you except what's in the bag. Leave all our photographs and sentimental things behind, they'll only weight you down. The only reason to follow these instructions will be if I'm dead, and I sure as hell wont need any of my stuff after I'm gone.

3) I left the keys to the apartment on top of the fridge. If I don't make it home, lock the apartment up, and then go throw the keys in the river. Trust me on this one.

4) You cant go home. You can't even stay in the city. Killian saw you with us at the grocery store, and will probably assume you're dating one of us. He knows you're staying with us, and he probably has someone standing guard outside right now to keep an eye on you. If Poe doesn't co-operate, Killian just has to make a single phone call and you'll be dead. It's nothing personal, he'll just do whatever it takes to get us to do what he wants.

5) I programmed my friends number into your phone. Speed dial 3. It's my friend Blake, call him if you think you're being watched, or if anything happens. Also call him if I'm not home by Wednesday. He'll find a place for you to stay.

Hopefully I'll see you soon, but if not then just know that I'm really glad I met you. You're a truly fantastic person, and Dallas is lucky to have grown up with you. It kills me to know that I might never get to talk to my brother, but if he does wake up one day, tell him that I love him and that I'm sorry. So is Poe. This is the first time I've ever been truly scared, Hartley. I am so, so scared. 17 is way too early to die, but it's worth it if its to save someone you love, right? I'll try to be back as soon as I can, but a lot can go wrong. Take up knitting or something to keep yourself occupied until I get back.

Lock the doors, and don't trust anyone except Blake. Not even Halden, not even my mom.

Farewell,

Mickey.

“Oh my god,” I whispered under my breath as I stared at the note, a lump catching in my throat. In less than 12 hours, I had lost the only two good people remaining in my life. Surprisingly though, I didn't cry. What should have felt like sadness and despair, felt more like a numb emptiness. I had lost so many people already, what were two more?

No, I told myself harshly, this is Poe and Mickey we're talking about. Snap out of it.

“Halden,” I asked, and he looked up from the frying pan long enough to see the suspicion on my face, “How much of this did you read before I took it from you?”

He sighed and placed the spatula he was using on the kitchen island, splattering bits of half-cooked egg onto the marble. If Poe was here, he would've no doubt had a mental breakdown at all mess Halden was creating. According to Poe, no matter how clean something was, it could always be cleaner.

“Enough to know that you're keeping something big from me.”

“Listen,” I started, but Halden was already angry. “I know you're annoyed that I wont tell you whats going on, but trust me. Its for your own good. Its safer this way.”

“Goddammit, Hartley.” he snarled, uncrossing his arms and pushing away from the wall so that he was standing less than two feet away from me. Suddenly, for the first time in a long time, I actually felt intimidated. Halden was at least six foot four, and a lot more muscular than I remembered. Not to mention, he was pissed.

“You always do that. You did it when we were dating too.” he started, his voice getting louder by the second. “You always think you know whats best for people, but you don't! You just assume you know how people feel, and so you make up these conclusions in your head of how you think things are going to end. Then you make up the cause to save yourself from ever getting hurt, but it never works. You always end up alone. Always.”

“Maybe I wouldn't have ended up alone if you'd been able to control your hormones for like 5 seconds, and actually been faithful to me!” I yelled, trying to push him away from me, but he didn't budge.

“You need to get over yourself!” he yelled back.

And then, just like that, Halden pushed me back against the fridge, and crashed his lips into mine.

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