Chapter 2: Out of My dreams

"Wake up, please, wake up," a kind voice calls me from an unexpected slumber as I am gently shaken. I stir before opening my eyes and I am stricken still in amazement. The man leaning over me is someone I know but have never met. This man can't possibly be the same but as I glaze over his features everything is exact in nature. The lighting in the dreary place makes his skin appear pale but I know from my dreams that it is a beautiful light tan. Every feature of his face, every single one; his full lips, subtle nose, prominent cheek bones, everything, was the same his golden hair was even askew like I have seen it. Even his dark blue eyes were shimmering in the darkness in the same way it would in the light but seemed off, worry was like liquid in his eyes as he looked down on me. "Are you ok? Can you talk," He questions softly his voice not above a whisper. I barely nod too tired to speak at the moment. He sighs in relief and asks, "Will you speak to me?" I can't help but smile and reply, "Yes I will," my voice cracks, "what happened to me?"

He nods to me and says, "Well you got beat by guards." I nod, "then why are you are in here with me?" He flashes a coy smile and replies his voice never wavering from its completely collected tone, "well I saved you, or well, I tried to save you. The guards are stronger than they look." He chuckles as he takes in my expression and pushes his hair back. He looks away and sighs, "Did you want a longer explanation?" I nod at lost for words at his sudden stuck-up attitude, "why would I not want one?" He just shakes his head and speaks again, "I was walking and found guards beating a girl in an alley way I walked up and tried to stop them and got knocked out myself." I glare at him his attitude was starting to get on my nerves and I didn't like it. I push my way off of the ground and he shoves me back to the ground his eyes a mixture of a cold mask and the worry I saw. He speaks in less of an attitude, "I patched your ribs... don't move." I hide a smile realizing his game. I let him believe he has fooled me and I speak, "I'm sorry I got you mixed up in all of this you shouldn't have got yourself jailed for some stupid reason." He bursts out laughing and looks at me his eyes so cold, "you kidding me why should I ever care if I get arrested or not?" I get caught by this how could he not care this is his life he has to care. Doesn't he?

Before I can catch my mind the usual guard walks in and looks to the blond boy, "you boy you're free. Oh and Alana you're in full term your mom is not getting you out this time." I smile and reply my voice cracking again, "it's fine Bill nothing out of the ordinary." He walks over and gives me a ladle of water to drink. As I drink he starts to discuss something with Bill and slowly their voices start to raze at each other. The last thing I needed right now was to deal with two boys arguing. "I'm not leaving without her," the blonde boy says to loud before realizing I can hear. There's something wrong with him, if he cares why he would be acting so cold against me? He sighs in frustration and talks in his normal voice, somehow sounding more commanding and powerful than the biggest guy I know, "look just tell my father that I have taken under my protection a delinquent that currently needs medical attention and I will not leave without her." Bill nods looking mad but defeated as he turns and retreats to go contact whoever my mysterious friend's father is. I can make out the sounds of bill talking in the other room as I look at the boy in the cell with me. How dare he call me a delinquent just who in the world is he?

He turns to me and smiles coyly, "my name is Justin Hearth." I smirk, "oh I was wondering when I was going to get a name to the stranger that saved me." He laughs and I can see some true happiness behind his eyes. "I'm Alana Crosshadows," I introduce myself simply not trying to seem flashy. I move to sit up and he pushes me down. "You should rest until the coach gets here to take us to my father," he says sternly. "A…. A coach? But only rich people own coaches… Just who the hell are you," I question at loss for more subtle words to give him. Justin opens his mouth to answer me but before he speaks Bill runs into the room looking frantic and darts his eyes between me and Justin. Bill quickly stumbles out his message, "You both are free to go, but you boy your father is furious and he wants to see you both immediately."