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

An Angel Wears Hightops (Chapter 15)

“So how long have you and Grant been going out?” I asked Miguel, leaning back in my seat as he pulled up to a red light.

To be honest, I'd almost completely forgotten Miguel existed. Yeah, we'd exchanged numbers when we'd met in the library, but after that, it hadn't even crossed my mind to call him. But here I was, on the way to his grandma's house with him. The memory of our last conversation still rang in my head, leaving me even more curious as to why he'd asked me to come with him all the way to another city, just to visit one of his relatives.

“Well, thanks so much for the ride, I really appreciate it.” Miguel had said, digging around in his pocket for a second, before pulling out his cellphone, and handing it to me. “Put your number in it, I might be able to help you with your little ghost hunt later.” he smirked, glancing at the stack of paranormal themed books that were balanced precariously on the centre console.

“I think I can handle it by myself,” I'd told him with a nervous laugh, but entered my phone number anyways. I'd just wanted to get home and start my search for information that would help Sammy pass on as soon as possible, and Miguel was majorly slowing down my progress.

“Yeah?” he'd grunted, getting out of the car, “We'll see about that.”

Was is possible that Miguel knew something about Sammy that I didn't? I mean, he was the singer of Cheating Yesterday, and spent a large portion of his time fixated on his band. He didn't really strike me as the kind of guy who would sit around reading up on poltergeists and whatever, or even like, read at all. It just didn't make sense.

“Grant and I have been going out for about 7 months now, I think.” he informed me, snapping me back to reality. I nodded slightly, glancing over at him as he pulled into the driveway of a tiny brick house with a sprawling front yard. I had no idea where we were at all. Seriously. I didnt even know what city.

“You do realize if you cheat on him or anything, I'm going to have to kill you, right?” I informed him darkly, undoing my seat belt and stepping out onto the pavement.

“C'mon Harley, I would never cheat on anyone. I mean, someone being stupid enough to date me is a once in a lifetime thing, I'm not gonna mess it up.” he laughed as I followed him up to the front door. A large lion head shaped knocker hung in the middle of it, but he disregarded it and instead just let himself in.

“Yo, G-ma!” he called, and a few seconds later, a tiny woman bustled into the room, looking dismayed at the fact that he'd just burst in unannounced, and, to make matters worse, had even brought company with him.

“I tell you to knock. You don't knock.” she scolded him in a thick accent that I couldn't quite place. She had the same caramel colored skin as Miguel, and a head full of curly black hair that she'd piled on top of her head like a beehive, and tied back with a bandana, much like Miguel always did with his dread locks. Not only was she the shortest woman I'd ever seen, but she was probably the oldest as well.

“Well if you'd lock the door, I wouldn't be able to just walk right in, now would I?” he pointed out, but this just caused her to scowl.

“No sass.” she snapped, slapping him in the thigh with a wooden spoon before shuffling through a doorway to my left, that was covered by a large sheet of purple velvet, obscuring the room behind it.

Miguel and I exchanged a look for a brief second, before he shrugged and ducked through the thresh hold, motioning for me to follow him.

On the other side of the curtain, was an episode of Hoarders. Ancient looking leather-bound volumes were stacked up to the ceiling on all four sides of me, overheard cabinets displaying even more books, even older than the ones against the wall. Right in the middle of the tiny den was a desk, completely covered in -surprise, surprise- more books.