The Devil Wears Girl Jeans [BEING EDITED]

The Devil Wears Girl Jeans (Chapter 62)

Lacey's POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LACEY'S. 

NOT HARTLEY'S.

GOT IT?

GOOD.

“If you don't watch Wheel of Fortune at 7:30 every night then I don't know what you're doing with your life, but you're doing it wrong.” my brother informed us, flipping through the channels on the tiny hotel TV, briefly pausing at an old episode of Seinfeld. He glanced up at me and smirked, and I immediately flipped him off. It was a reflex at this point.

Basically, my dad had taped over the last hour of the VHS tape of me being born with an episode of Seinfeld, and even to this day, Quinn still burst out laughing whenever it came on, because apparently our dad's screw up was still funny even after 16 and a half years.

“Yeah, Quinn. Because thats what a group of six teenagers wants to do. We want to watch old people guess phrases.” Sammy muttered, and we all raised our eyebrows at him in unison. Sammy never said anything even remotely mean or sarcastic to anyone ever, so this was exceptionally amusing to us.

“Wow, Sammy sure is sassy tonight.” Tristan remarked, elbowing him in the side. Sammy shrugged, rolling over onto his side.

“My sassiness is just a mask for my lonliness. Like, I think I'm going to be alone forever.” he sighed, and I nodded in agreement.

“I know the feeling, man.” I muttered, because it was true. I was a bitter, sarcastic bitch, and even though it was just a wall that I put up to keep myself from ever getting hurt, it was repelling boys like crazy.

Speaking of boys....

“Yo, have any of you guys seen Dallas?” I asked casually, but I was interrupted by that distant BANG BANG BANG CRASH you sometimes hear when people are in the shower, and you can totally tell that they just knocked over like, all of the shampoo bottles, so that basically answered my question as to where he was. One of my goals of the summer was to stop being scared, and take more chances. In order to fully complete that goal, I had to go find Dallas. It was the last thing on my list.

I nudged the bathroom door open slowly, and immediately froze.

One time, I reached for a cup on the dinner table that I thought was mine, and I took a huge sip and found that it tasted really weird and like oily so I looked down and saw my grandma's dentures floating around, because apparently she wanted to soak them for a bit but she put them in and forgot to take them out. However, that doesn't even compare to what was in front of me. It left scars on my soul, and I'm forever a changed woman because of it.

I yelled, “AH,” and then Dallas yelled, “AH,” and then he stumbled to wrap a towel around his waist while I slapped my hands over my eyes.

“All clear,” he said after a minute, and I slowly removed my hands from my eyes, only to find that Dallas was blushing just as much as I was.

“I, uh. Can I talk to you?” I asked quietly, in case the people in the living room were listening.