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

An Angel Wears Hightops (Chapter 16)

It was Christmas Eve, and I was sitting in Mickey and Poe's apartment eating cool ranch Doritos by myself. I'd wanted spend the night at my own house, since I knew I'd be safe there, but something about it just didn't feel like home anymore, especially with my mom gone. So, I'd gathered up some books and old VHS tapes from my place, and had brought them over here to keep me company while I waited for Mickey and Poe to return.

Halden apparently wasn't as big on leaving notes as they were, because when I'd walked through the door, the first thing I'd noticed was that all of his stuff was gone. He hadn't left an explanation, but I assumed it was because he couldn't handle the humiliation of facing me after kissing me, and I was okay with that. One less person to worry about, right?

“All right, I'll go in there for Dorothy. Wicked Witch or no Wicked Witch, guards or no guards, I'll tear them apart. I may not come out alive, but I'm going in there. There's only one thing I want you fellows to do.” the Cowardly Lion said on the screen, and I pulled the quilt I'd stolen off of Mickey's bed up to my chin. In a way, Mickey reminded me of the Cowardly Lion, except instead of Dorothy, he was doing it for Poe, and instead of a Wicked Witch, there was a guy who wanted him dead. But still.

“And what's that?” the Tinman asked curiously as the lion nibbled on one of his paws.

“Talk me out of it!”

I groaned, pulling the blanket entirely over my head, creating a little burrito of warmth. The Wizard of Oz had always been my favourite movie, but now it just physically pained me to watch it. The last time I'd seen it had been during the summer with Dallas, who'd been lounging across my couch in a pair of basketball shorts, providing what I'd thought was a very annoying commentary at the time. Now, I'd give pretty much anything just to hear him yell, “GROW A PAIR, AND GO SAVE DOROTHY.” again.

Luckily for me, a knock at their door prevented me from wallowing in my sorrow for much longer. I pulled the quilt around my shoulders and took my sweet time walking over to the door. I stopped in front of it, realizing for the first time that there was no peephole. Considering what'd happened to me last night, it didn't seem safe to open the door for just anyone, especially if Killian had people monitoring me like Mickey had warned me that he probably would.

“Going so soon?” the Wicked Witch cackled from the TV behind me, “I wouldn't hear of it. Why my little party's just beginning.”

Dorothy gasped, causing me to jump slightly. I immediately frowned at how paranoid and ridiculous I was being. I reached for the knob and turned it, but it wouldn't budge.

“What the hell?” I muttered, yanking harder. That's when I noticed the deadbolt sliding into place, all by itself. Someone was locking the door from my side, probably for a reason. I'd learned to just roll with it whenever Sammy did something, because 10 times out of 10, he was doing it to save my ass.

When I heard the sound of gun shots on the other side of the door, that's when I realized that this time wasn't any different. I dropped to the ground, covering my head, but quickly realized that he was shooting at something outside of my door, not through it. Regardless, I didn't allow myself to move or even breathe too loudly, until a few minutes later when Sammy unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door a crack. I took that as my cue to peek out and see what had happened. And boy, was I in for a surprise.

Because lying in the hallway, face up, was a girl about my age, her blonde hair fanned out around her, her blue eyes staring up at nothing. A girl who looked an awful lot like me.

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“Do you have someone you can stay with, ma'am?” the cop asked me, but I just stared straight ahead, barely hearing him.