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

An Angel Wears Hightops (Chapter 14)

I stood at the edge of the Wilk's frost covered lawn, clutching the paper that contained the numbers that I'd copied down this morning tightly in my fist. It crumpled slightly in my mittened hands, but there was no way I was letting the numbers out of my sight, since I knew they held the key to solving Sammy's murder. The only problem was, what did they mean?

Taking a deep breath, I made my way up the front steps. Removing one of my mittens, I tapped sharply on the door, and stepped back, holding my breath. I waited there for what seemed like an eternity, but there was no answer. I frowned in confusion, because considering how many children the Wilks had, there was almost always someone home. My stomach clenched, alerting me that something was off.

That's about when I noticed the FOR SALE sign propped up in the window.

The Wilks were gone. Not just Tristan, but the rest of them as well. Seth, Davie, Grant, Wesley... They were gone too.

“Hey!” someone yelled from behind me, and I whipped around to see a teenage boy standing on the sidewalk, scowling at me through his light brown hair.

“Whatever you're selling, they don't want it. Get lost.” he said, his deep voice surprising me.

“N-no. I was just looking for someone. But I t-think they moved. I'm sorry.” I stammered, stumbling down the stairs. The guy's piercing gaze followed me as I cut across the lawn, but it wasn't until I reached the edge of their yard that I realized I had a problem. I had to walk past the guy to go home, and he didn't look like he planned to move out of my way anytime soon.

I briefly considered sprinting past him, but I had no doubt he could out run me. So, I did the next best thing and came to a stop in front of him, standing up as straight as possible. As tall as I was, he was much taller, and much more intimidating. I was starting to get nervous.

“Excuse me.” I said, my voice wavering slightly. The guy stared at me, his green eyes raking over my body, and I squirmed. What if this was one of the guys who Poe's kidnappers was paying to keep an eye on me? I should never have been stupid enough to go out alone, what was I thinking?

The guy, however, had no intention of letting me pass. He grabbed me by the shoulders and leaned down so that he was eye level to me, as opposed to towering over my head.

“You really don't recognize me.” he stated, staring at me with a mixture of wonder and shock.

“Uh...should I?”

“Oh my God,” he breathed, letting go of me. “It's me, Grant.”

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“So what were you doing at our old house?” Grant asked over his shoulder, pouring some coffee into a flamingo printed mug for me.

As it turned out, Grant was currently living in the basement suite of his neighbours house with his boyfriend. I hadn't recognized him at first, mainly due to the fact that he'd dyed his blonde hair to brown, and because apparently puberty had hit him like a train. He'd changed so much since I'd last seen him, it was hard to believe he was even the same person.

“I was looking for Seth.” I told him, and he nodded, his new eyebrow ring glinting in the kitchen light. I also noticed that he was wearing a faded t-shirt with Quinn and Lacey's band logo stamped across it, tattoos poking out from under his sleeves. Those were new too.

“You got tattoos?” I asked, my eyebrows raised. Grant nodded, and before I could even look away, he'd already shrugged off his shirt and tossed onto the couch. Let's just say that there was no mistaking the fact that Grant had definitely followed in his brother's footsteps when it came to puberty.

“Yeah. This one right here,” he said, pointing to a spot just above the crook of his elbow, where there was a line of script printed in typewriter font, “Says dum spiro, spero. 'While I breathe, I hope' in Latin. That ones for my parents.”

“Why, what happened to your parents?” I asked, a ball of dread forming in my stomach. The words had barely left my mouth, when I realized that I shouldn't have said anything. All expression drained from Grant's face, and he just looked...empty.

“Got hit by a semi-truck driving home a few months ago.” he grunted. “They died instantly.”

“Oh my god.” I whispered, my eyes wide. Grant just shrugged, and looked away.

“It's all in the past...But anyways, this one here is just a reminder to be a better person, I guess.” he continued, pointing just over his heart, where the words, 'You can't fix yourself by breaking someone else' were written in neat scrawl. “I used to be really bitter and angry because I was mad at myself, and took it out on others. It pretty much just reminds me to not be a douchebag.”

“Wow,” was all I managed to say, still trying to absorb the fact that Mr. And Mrs. Wilks, who'd practically been like my second parents growing up, were dead.

Grant pulled his shirt back on and stretched, causing his shirt to ride up just enough for me to catch a glimpse of the top yet another tattoo, a rose, near his hip.

“How many do you have?” I asked, and he shrugged.

“All the ones you've seen, and then these.” he told me, holding out his wrists.

“What do those say?”

“They're all of my brothers signatures. Tristan and Seth on this wrist, and Davie and Wesley on the other.” he explained, pulling his hands back and sticking them in his pockets.

“Where are they? Your brothers, I mean.” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.

“Well,” Grant said, sliding into the chair across from me, “Tristan is in Arizona, last time I checked. No one knows where Seth is, really. Last I heard, he was in Seattle, but that was nearly a year ago. Wesley and Davie are staying at my grandma's in Idaho, but I don't know how long that'll last. My grandmas 97, she's barely hanging on. None of us will be able to take care of them when she passes, we can barely take care of ourselves. They'll be split up and put into foster care, most likely. It's rough.”

“Wow, you don't say.” I mumbled, completely bummed out from this entire conversation. I sighed and crossed my legs, hearing the slight crunch of paper crumpling in my pocket. That reminded me..

“I need your help. Does this look familiar to you?” I asked, handing Grant the row of numbers that I'd printed on the back of a 7/11 receipt earlier today. If anyone would be able to figure it out, it would be Grant.

He stared at it for a long time, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. After a while, he got up and opened on of the kitchen drawers, taking out a pencil and notepad. He slid back into his seat and started writing, scribbling what looked like math formulas, but I couldn't be sure considering it all just looked like gibberish to me. Eventually, he let out a startled laugh, and looked up at me with a smirk.

“Wow. We're both stupid for not getting it right away. It's a phone number.” he told me, drawing brackets around the first three numbers to show that it was an area code. I literally could've smacked myself in the face at that moment for being so slow. Of course, it made so much sense now.

“Thank you so much, you're literally a genius.” I told him, and he smiled.

“Anytime. If you ever need an-”

“Hello?” a deep voice called from the other room, cutting him off. Grant's face immediately lit up, and I couldnt help but smile at how happy he was.

“Ah, this is awesome! You get to meet my boyfriend! Don't worry, he's terrific.” Grant assured me as footsteps approached the kitchen.

“Hey,” he greeted Grant with a half smile, sauntering in. The second his gaze swung over to me though, his eyebrows shot up.

“Hartley?”

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SOOOOO? Who do you think Grant's boyfriend is?  Also, if any of you want me to dedicate a chapter to you, just let me know :) Consider it me making up for not uploading last week because I was being a lazy buttface