The Devil Wears Girl Jeans [BEING EDITED]

The Devil Wears Girl Jeans (Chapter 55)

There are lots of things that can fill the pit of your stomach with dread: walking in on someone just as they're getting out of the shower, or maybe realizing that it's actually Saturday and that you woke up early and rushed to school for nothing. A bouquet of roses, though, was typically not one of those things. Unless, of course, said roses were sitting on your doorstep with a large note attached that read “To Hartley,” in Tristan's handwriting not even 10 minutes after you'd left him a voice mail confession saying that you were actually dating his brother. Oh ho ho, my life was getting better by the second.

Letting out an annoyed grumble, I stooped over and snatched the card off the porch, tearing into it like starving child tearing into a bag of Doritos. It took me a second to decipher Tristan's handwriting, but after a second I managed to understand a majority of it.

Well would you look at that. My little Hartley got her first suspension, congratulations! I figured your week has probably sucked some serious ass, and I'm not going to say I told you so about the whole 'Halden being a douche' thing, but I mean c'mon. I told you so. Anyways, I'm always here for you if you ever need someone to talk to or if you need someone to have a Seinfeld marathon with. Anyways, call me when you get this, I need to tell you something. In person.

Lots of love, Tristan.

The second I finished reading it, I let out a noise that probably sounded somewhat similar to a goat with a javelin stuck in its side. Without even pausing to think about what I was about to do, I took off down the steps and across the lawn.

I needed to delete that message off of Tristan's phone before he listened to it, and I needed to do it now.

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Naturally, the one Wilk brother who disliked me the most was the one who answered the door.

“Can I help you?” Grant asked, crossing his arms over his chest. I'd never noticed it before, but Grant was actually nearly an entire foot taller than me, and for the first time in my life, I actually felt intimidated by him.

“I need to talk to your brother.”

“Which one?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder quickly before turning back to glare at me.

“I don't know, which one is home?”

“That was a trick question. I'm the only one here.”

“Okay, then I'll just talk to you instead.” I sighed, pushing past him and collapsing onto their couch. He followed me inside, hesitantly sitting in the armchair across from me.