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

An Angel Wears Hightops (Epilogue)

“I made you some tea.” Poe told me, nudging open the door to what was officially my bedroom, as of yesterday. I'd moved in at the guys request, since I spent all my free time here anyways. Even though my cooking skills were minimal, they were still superior to anything the guys could muster up, so therefore, they kept me around. Poe had even agreed to move into Dallas's room so that I could have my own, which was surprisingly nice of him. Maybe he was breaking out of his depression after all.

“Thanks.” I told him, closing the photo album that was spread out in front of me, only one of the many that I had sifted through today. I'd relived mine and Tristan's friendship one photo at a time, each one breaking me down a little more every time.

“You miss him.” Poe observed, eyeing me uneasily as if he were afraid I was going to spontaneously combust, or, even worse, cry. After a second, though, he sauntered over and took a seat beside me, setting the tea down on my side table.

“I do, a lot. And I mean, I know he's only going to be gone for a year or so, but...It's a long time, and things wont be the same when he gets back.”

The image of those flowers in the garbage can haunted me, along with the sad sound of Quinn's voice as he explained to me what had happened. Yet again, I'd messed up things with Tristan. Surprise, surprise.

“You know,” Poe told me, “There's a quote that I heard once, probably by some dead guy. It goes something like, 'Growing apart doesn't change the fact that for a long time, we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled.' and I mean, I that's pretty relevant, don't you think?”

“Wow, settle down there, Hemingway. But for real, that's actually pretty comforting, thanks. You're actually a pretty alright guy, Poe, do you know that?”

“Nope,” he objected, shaking his head, “I'm actually still an asshole, don't get your hopes up.”

“I think you just don't want to ruin your bad guy image.”

“I'm a street fighter, Hartley. Do you know what you'd do to my street cred if the guys heard you calling me a nice guy? I'd have to go kick a kitten or something to redeem myself.”

“Gruesome.” I remarked, and he smiled at me, just a tiny bit.

“I don't like seeing you sad, which is weird because normally I get a kick out of other people being miserable. Want to go get some ice cream or something? I mean, if you want to.”

“Did you just ask me out?” I gasped with mock surprise, smirking at him. He scowled at me, and narrowed his eyes.

“No.”

“I think you just did.” I teased.

“No,” he objected again, “I always ask people to go out for ice cream. HEY MICKEY, WANNA GO OUT FOR ICE CREAM?”

There was a snicker from the across the hall, and Mickey called “Did you just ask me out?” in a pretty spot on imitation of my voice.

Jerk.

“Well as much fun as that little date would be, I think I'm just going to stay here for a bit. Look through some old photos, cry for a bit, you know? Feel free to come join my pity party, though. The more the merrier.” I told him and he rolled his eyes, getting off my bed. I watched as he headed towards my bedroom door, stepping around boxes and other debris as he went. 

“Don't be sad forever, okay?” he told me, pausing in the threshold, and I smiled a bit. Poe had come a long way from that miserable, sullen boy that I'd met in the emergency room on the night Dallas had crashed. Now he stood a little straighter, laughed a little bit more, and had an expression in his eyes whenever he looked at me that I couldn't quite explain, but I liked it.

I mean, he was still an asshole, but it was progress.

I turned back to the album in front of me, inspecting a picture of me, Dallas, and Tristan when we were about 6, the three of us decked out in matching tie-dye shirts while we beamed up at the camera, several of our teeth missing. Another one depicted me and the Carr's as cowboys on Halloween nearly 10 years ago, our candy bags filled to the top.

I had just slid another photo out of it's protective sleeve, when there was a noise at my window. And by 'noise at my window', I of course meant that the entire thing shattered, because some dumbass had decided it would be a fabulous idea to throw an apple sized rock at my window.

Seconds later, Mickey and Poe were at my side, both with startled expressions on their faces as they took in the shards of glass that were scattered all over my carpet, and the stone that sat innocently in the middle of all the destruction.

Inching forward, I looked out my window curiously, only to see Dallas standing in the yard. Clad in black jeans and his favourite red hoodie, he was clutching a bouquet of brightly coloured flowers in his hand, looking sheepish. Then it hit me.

He was standing. No wheelchair in sight.

I watched as he took a few uncertain steps forward, wobbling slightly, but never falling. Poe and Mickey looked equally as shocked as I felt, even more shocked than when he'd broken my window. Which reminded me:

“Dallas, what the heck?” I asked, motioning to the empty window frame in front of me.

“Cut me some slack, okay? I only have one good arm, my aim was kind of off.”

“Are those for me?” Mickey teased, batting his eyelashes as Dallas made a rude gesture in his general direction.

“No, Hartley was sad so I walked over to the store and bought these for her. I tried throwing rocks at her window, but, y'know... stuff happens.” he told me, grinning up at me with his Cheshire cat smile that I had missed so much during the six months he was gone.

The stony expression I'd been accustomed to while he was in his coma had turned into that typical Dallas smile again, and the insults Poe had hurled at me had eventually turned into small compliments, and the initial hesitance Mickey had had over Dallas had turned into unconditional love.

Lacey had turned into a bride, and Quinn had turned into a songwriter who rarely left his studio, and Tristan had turned into a full time student at a university over 2,000 miles away from me.

And me?

I found myself forgetting what it was like without the Black brothers in my life, wondering how I could have possibly lived without them before. This feeling only intensified as Poe hesitantly snaked his arm around my waist, pulling me into him protectively.

And just like that, I knew I was finally home.

                                                                      The End

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I HAD A REALLY NICE AUTHORS NOTE TYPED OUT BUT THEN MY COMPUTER CRASHED AND NOW I'M REALLY UPSET UGH. But I just wanted to say that we've reached the end. This is it. Thank you to every single person who read and commented and voted and put up with all my shenanigans and cliff hangers, and who didnt kill me when I messed with everyones emotions. Im going to miss you all a lot, ive gotten so used to reading and replying to everyones comments, i almost feel like I know you guys by now. But anyways, thank you so much for everything, I love you all to death. <3

This is so sad :(

-Slone