Minho had told Alby. Obviously, you were right beside them. Alby automatically went under the assumption you knew more, and held your wrists to your side, asking so many questions.
"Last name, what's your last name!?" He asks.
"I don't know it! I just know Wicked, and Trial and my last name!" You say.
"You're lying. It's okay to tell me! It may help us!" He says, starting to shake you.
"Hands off of me or else I will knee you where the sun doesn't shine!" You yell. Alby stops and let's go. "All I know, is that Wicked is a place, and trial is a keyword.
"Do you know anything?" He asks.
"Only that... that... It's on the tip of my tongue, but I can't remember!" You complain, and set your cold hand on your forehead. It felt nice since there was the hot weather, and fire lit high beside you. You pick up the nearest twig and snap it in half, then throw it into the fire, making them both pop. "That's it!" You say, realizing something right away. "The Creators. They're called W.I.C.K.E.D!" You say, Alby stares at you, then leans over to Minho and whispers something. Minho's reaction makes you curious.
"Alby! She's not dangerous, or a shuck Griever or somethin! She's helping us and you're got to put her in a cell!?" He asks, bewildered. You jump back and place your hands up in surrender, the heat leaving your face.
"What do you mean? I didn't do anything!" You say.
"Just take her to the shuck jail until morning." Alby tells Minho. "We'll decide what to do with her then."
"Do with her? Alby she never broke a rule-"
"Jail! Now Minho!" Alby yells sternly, eyes set on you and Minho as you both walk fast to the jail, he was directing you.
"I'll stay with you." He says. You nod and hop in, you hadn't expected it when he hopped in too, closing it above him. He locked you both in and threw the keys out one of the wide squares.
"I thought you were going to stay outside the jail cell!" You say.
Minho grins and shrugs, looking back at the door. "Oh. Well, too late now." He says. You roll your eyes and sit down, crossing your arms over your chest and look down. You draw in the dirt with the point of your shoe. You take it back, lean over, and stick your finger in the mud, you look at Minho and draw his features, his face stays in place, thinking. The moonlight lighting it perfectly. In almost a minute, you finish, and take your finger out of the dirt and wipe it on your shirt.
"I'm going to sleep. Night Minho." You say, laying your arm down and your head upon it, you close your eyes. It was very cold and uncomfortable. You heard Minho shuffle as he got up, walked over to you, and sit down beside you.
"That's not comfortable." He says, you look up, "Lay your head on my shoulder, come on, it doesn't have to be romantic." He says, you shrug and sit up, scooting closer. His arm goes around you, and your head on his shoulder.
"Thanks Minho. You're a good..."
"Friend?"
"Yeah. If that's what we are."
"Closest one I've got, you are. I care about you, obviously." He says.
"Didn't realize that. Night Minho."
"Night."
You close your eyes for a minute, and then they shoot open again. "Wait, does this mean I'm your best friend? Because if I'n your only friend, it's got to mean I'm the best, right?"
He smiles, his eyes closed. "Yeah. You're my best friend."
