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

An Angel Wears Hightops (Chapter 24)

“Glad that Tristan's back?” Lacey asked, sliding into the seat beside me with a grin. Sometime between when the presentation had ended and when everyone had arrived back at Blake's house for a welcome home dinner, Lacey's hair had transformed into an up do, and her t-shirt and jeans had morphed into a dress. I felt severely under dressed in comparison.

“I can't even explain to you how good it feels to look across the room and see him standing there.” I told her, both of us automatically glancing over to the couch where he was laughing at something Grant had said. Nearly everyone had shown up to the dinner, from Miguel and Grant, to Sammy's sister and Seth. To be honest, it was kind of overwhelming.

“Have you even talked to him yet?” she asked, and I shrugged, looking away.

“Sorta.”

“What do you mean, 'sorta'?” she asked threateningly, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Uh, he held the door open for me, and then I said thanks, and then he said 'yeah, no problem' so I mean yeah, we sort of talked.”

Lacey let out a long sigh, and shook her head at me. “Hartley, you're an idiot. Go talk to him, otherwise I'll have no choice but to drag you over there and handcuff you to him for good.”

I cant necessarily say I disliked her plan. I mean, it'd keep him from leaving again, right?

“Oh my god, you're actually considering letting me handcuff him to you, aren't you?” she cried, outraged. “You are so ridiculous. YO TRISTAN, HARTLEY WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!”

Tristan, along with everyone else in the room, looked up at me immediately as I silently urged myself to melt into a puddle on the floor to avoid all the embarrassment. Tristan excused himself and got up from the couch, coming to a stop a few steps away from me. This was it. An entire year of not seeing each other, but now here we were, two feet apart, close enough to touch.

I took a deep breath, and mentally prepared the inspirational speech that I would give that would make him fall for me all over again, and let us pick up where we left off.

I cleared my throat, and instead of some big long confession, all I could get out was, “Uh.”

And then he said, “Uhm.”

And then Lacey jumped in saying, “Wow, this is pathetic.” and then walked away, shaking her head in what was probably annoyance. I didn't really blame her, I was annoyed at me too.

“Can we go talk outside?” I suggested after a minute of us just staring at our feet in silence, and he nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

I lead him into Mickey's temporary bedroom, and he froze in the doorway, obviously getting the wrong idea as to why I was taking him there. Part of me wanted to laugh at the ridiculous expression on his face, but the other half of me was still in the 'oh god Tristan's really here and he's right in front of me and he's really here this time oh wow I cant believe this, TRISTAN'S HERE WHAT DO I DOOOOOO?' kind of mindset.

“Chill, man, we're going out the window.” I told him, sliding the pane up and stepping outside into the cold spring air. My feet hit the roof tiles with a thud, and I scrambled to find grip on the slippery surface before I slid off the end of the roof. Tristan slid out behind me a few moments later, coming to a stop beside me.

“Whoa.” he said a second later, looking out over the sunset-bathed city in front of us. I let him take it in for a few minutes, using that time to study every feature of his being, since, y'know, I hadn't seen him in a year, and you tend to forget things over time.