Unforetold (Under Construction)

Chapter 20

Ceilin's POV

I heard a gasp and scuffling, and I forced my eyes open only to see Haydn in a dazed heap. Blood trickled from his bottom lip.

"Hey, Z-Boy, lay off him will ya?"

I turned my head and saw what looked like a 15 or 16 year old guy, but to me he was an angel. The gang turned around and chuckled.

"Hey, looks like Shortie's got a playmate." Batso said.

"Leave us alone, T-bone. This ain't your fight." Dub walked menacingly toward T-bone. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Haydn weakly push himself from the ground. What happened next was too fast to remember much detail.

T-bone charged and shoved Kaysson to the ground, then scooped me up and pulled me by my wrist. Haydn was right beside me. The gang followed, but somehow T-bone managed to stay ahead long enough to find a hiding place in an old factory behind pipes. I must have passed out again or something, because I do remember all of a sudden just being in T-bone's arms as he ducked under pipes and fallen ceilings.

The three of us crammed into what used to be a janitor's closet. When we heard footsteps, T-bone stepped out, whispering to us to stay put. I cracked the door to watch. I'm not sure what they said, but it ended up with T-bone pulling out a knife and slicing the bald guy, Dub, and Z-Boy in the arm, and Batso punching him in the shoulder. Kaysson wasn't there. They left saying that T-bone would pay. After about five minutes, T-bone, rubbing his shoulder, said we could come out. I rubbed my sore thighs as we once again brought ourselves into open air and sunshine. I took a good look at T-bone. He was a good inch or two taller than Haydn. He had shaggy dark brown hair just below his jawline. His eyes were hazel and freckles dotted random patterns across his face. He wore an orange Aeropostale t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and brown shorts with frayed ends. I looked at his feet and saw a nice pair of Jordans.

"Um," I broke the awkward silence. "Thanks for...well, saving us." Haydn nodded.

"Eh, no problem. Those guys aren't anyone you'd want to mess with, but if there's a girl involved me and my trusty blade will mess with them." He pulled out a knife from it's sheath, showing off the deadly steel stained with blood. Black leather with skulls stamped on it decorated the handle. Where was this guy getting this stuff? He put away his 'trusty blade' and went over to another building and, reaching into a hole in the wall, pulled out a much used yet nice looking skateboard. The bottom was purple and had 'Bad Boy' in gothic letters across it.

"Name's Trey," He said, holding out his hand to me. I shook it. Haydn ignored it.

"Uh, I thought it was T-bone." Even though his hair was long and shaggy, it looked really nice. Like, not a hobo kind of shaggy. It really looked like a nice, messy, shag thing. Ugh. Hard to explain. I liked it.

"Oh, gangsters always come up with nicknames. They call me that cuz I'm so scrawny. Compared to the rest of them, at least." He laughed and started flexing his arm. It definitely wasn't as big as Batso's, but you could tell he did at least a little bit of working out.

"I'm Ceilin. And this-"

"Haydn." Haydn grabbed my hand protectively, but I just slipped it out. He didn't need to be worried about me falling in love with some street kid with a knife, even though he isn't all that bad looking. Besides, even if I did, it's not like we were together in the first place.

"So, what brings you to Jacksonville?" Trey says, as we start walking towards somewhere.

"Well, it's kind of a long-"

"We're on vacation." Haydn cuts me off again. What's his problem? This guy isn't going to blab it to the police or anything. I trusted Trey.

"Like I said, it's a long story."

"Well, I think we got time."

So, starting from when we decided to run away, I told him what happened. Except for the kissing, of course. By the time I finished, our walking had brought us to an abandoned coffee shop. We walked in through a broken window. Dust covered the tables and chairs. An evening glow came through the glass, making it look kind of comfortable.

"You can stay here for tonight." Trey said, nodding towards some couches in the lounging area. I practically flew over there. Oh, sweet mama, I missed the feeling of a couch. And how ironic was it that I had wanted to take a nap on one just this afternoon? I looked at Trey and smiled. Haydn just threw his backpack to the ground and plopped into the squishy material, sending dust everywhere. I sneezed several times before it settled.

"Thanks a lot, Trey. You have no idea how much I've wanted to sleep on one of these things." I smiled as I stretched carefully over the comfortable cusions.

Trey chuckled. "Yeah, I guess. But you get pretty used to sleeping on concrete after a while."

I sat up. Concrete? You mean a guy with an Aeropostale shirt, a pair of Jordans, a knife costing at least $70, and a cool skateboard is a street kid? How could he afford all that stuff? "You mean...I, uh, well...that is...you live out here?" He nodded.

"Yeah, I'm not one for life stories, but I'm pretty much like you, except for I ain't going anywhere in particular. I ran away from my foster home about...eh, 4 years ago I think. Maybe 3. I've been my own boss and livin' the life ever since. Just going up and down the coast."

"You don't stay anywhere?"

"Nah. That get's really boring. Besides, the police'll catch you easy that way. You gotta keep moving. So I just meander from Florida to Virginia."

"Virginia? That's it? What about Maine?"

"Too far north. I like to stay more south where it stays warm. Even Virginia gets too cold in the winter sometimes."

"Anyways," Haydn interjected, "We are very tired now, aren't we, Ceilin?"

"Uh, I guess so." I blinked, not really sure what to say to that. I mean, yeah, I am tired, but I'm talking to Trey you jealous, overprotective butthead.

"Well, good-night, then," Trey nods a farewell before dissappearing out the broken window.

"He's nice." I thought aloud to no one in particular.

"Alright, I guess." Haydn's half-asleep voice was muffled by his backpack pillow.

I once again stretched my limbs over the old sofa. Before my exhausted body shut down for the night, I thought of Trey again. He's OK. I like him.

A/N Soooooo dark clouds for Haydn right? haha this is like a big part of the book I'm so happy! its halfway through maybe less I'm so excited! wow, nearly 500 reads oh my word I love you guys!!! I'm so pleased and hope that this is getting more interesting all the time! PLEASE! I really do want to hear from you! Make SOME sort of suggestion because it will most likely be a good idea!

luv ya all!

the_crazy_C