The Wilder-ness

Chapter Two

"Hello? Can you hear me?"

I hear a voice talking. I don't know who it belongs to or if they are talking to me. Are you really there? Is this real? Or am I dead?

"No, you're not dead."

Wait what?

"I can read minds. You're not dead."

I open my eyes. Just as the mind reader dumps water in my face.

Cold water.

I jerk up into a seated position with a gasp, sputtering and hacking water. Wiping my eyes, I aim a glare at the so-called 'mind reader.'

"If you can read my mind, then you must have known I was going to get up anyways!" I exclaim. "So much for being a 'mind reader,'" I say with air quotes.

"Well, I was already dumping the water when I heard your thoughts," he responds stubbornly. It would almost be endearing. If only he weren't so gruff-looking with his piercing grey eyes and sharp jaw-line. And with his chestnut brown hair, he was basically the living image of a bad boy.

I laugh. "No need to get all flustered." This only causes him to turn away from me, but not before I see his face slowly turning pink.

I roll my eyes, deciding to leave him alone for now. I slowly walk in a circle, observing our surroundings. "So, now what? What's your plan?" I ask, then add, "I don't even know your name. Let's start there."

Hearing the rustle of grass, I turn back to face him, finding him watching me. At first, I don't think he's going to tell me his name, but then he opens his mouth. Only instead of his name, he says, "I'm hungry. Let's go find something to eat," then turns to walk away. "Besides, I don't know yours either."

I roll my eyes in frustration, then race to catch up with him. Why did his legs have to be so long? Hold on, why did I notice this? But while I'm at it, are his ears pointed?

I gasp, and the mysterious male stops to stare at me expectantly, all while allowing me a good look at his ears. Nope. They are regular ears. Phew.

Just as I come up behind him, the ground shakes, and towering walls break out through the ground. With my terrible balance, I stumble forward, crashing into who I now call Kenny in my head—which is the total opposite of what he actually looks like—and, for some reason, he holds onto me.

After a while, everything stops and goes still. Walls are all around us, branching off in different directions. We are trapped in the middle of a maze.

With my head still buried in his chest, I heave out a breath. Placing my hands on his chest, I say, "Heather. My name is Heather," before pushing away and turning to scan the walls and tunnels, finally staring up at the sky. It's too blue, too happy and cheerful up there while I'm stuck down here in the dark with a stranger I just met.

"My name is Charlie," he mumbles.

I blink. Turning back, I look everywhere but at him. "I didn't quite catch that," I say, squinting a little. "Can you say it again?" I had actually heard him the first time he said it. I just needed to clarify that I had heard it correctly.

"My name is Charlie," he says louder.

Yup, I heard it right the first time.

Finally looking up, I see his face for the first time since we told each other our names. His face is just as shocked as mine. For a while, we don't say anything. We just watch each other, filling in the blanks of our memories. The last time I'd seen Charlie, we were thirteen. My friend Amelia had dragged me to the mall and, being clueless, I had let her. Only once we were there did I realize it wasn't going to be just us. At the food court, we met up with some of her other girl friends and they had arranged a meeting with some guys. It was extremely awkward. Honestly, there was no point for me to be there. I was a pretty weird girl and completely average with long, straight but slightly wavy brown hair. There were a few red streaks but they blended in with the rest of my hair, just how I liked it.

Eventually, I went to get food and just sat at my own table to eat. Shortly after that, someone sat down next to me and said, "Man, it's really awkward over there." 

And that was the first time I met Charlie.

Now here we are, four years later. Before I get a chance to travel farther down Memory Lane though, a gust of wind blows from the dark tunnel beside us. At least, it was dark before a beam of light cleaved through it.

Staring towards the light, we don't move, not until we hear sharp clacking and the beam noticeably comes closer.

That is when we turn to each other, our faces stricken.

And then we run away. Fast.