a DREAM novel: Wonderland

Chapter 2: Mr. Mystery

I was in the arms of a stranger. He squeezed my waist as he savoured the happy moment, it was a happy moment, for him. I tried to squirm out of his bear hug but he held me down. He lifted his head to look at my face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," I forced a smiled on my face. His shaggy black hair fell over his eyes, I lifted my hand and pushed it away with the tips of my fingers. Just when I was about to lower my arm, he grabbed my hand and entwined our fingers.

His dark brown eyes bored into mine and suddenly I found myself in a deep kiss. His lips were soft and slow against my own. He tasted like an orange and I liked it. He lifted me up and sat me down on my desk that was facing my window. He pushed away all the things on the glass desk and slid me across it until my back grinded against the window pane. This was just what I needed, meaningless makeouts with a stranger, no more and no less. My hands explored what was underneath his thin grey cotton shirt while his roamed my thighs and then my waist and then...

"Woah there," I hopped off the table and headed for the door when a large hand held me by my wrist.

"I am sorry, please, don't leave," he begged. He led me to my bed. I sat exactly a meter away from him. He gave me a pleading look and I scooted a bit closer but kept a reasonable distance between us, just in case I needed to make a run for it.

"Do you remember what I told you last time we talked?" Although confusion overwhelmed me, I pushed away all my emotions to the back of my head and pretended to understand what he was saying when, honestly, I don't remember a single thing.

"Well, the guy from the bar is planning kill to her but when I spoke to him he said I got the wrong person and rushed out. He must be hiding something,"

Nodding and smiling occasionally worked and I tried to listen to what he was saying, in order to piece together the information but my mind couldn't stop wandering to the mysterious guy I danced with in the dance-off early that afternoon.

The blonde hair, the grey eyes and the fair skin. He was perfect, only he was like a distant memory hidden in a box that refuses to open. It was like I met him but I haven't really met him, almost like dejavu.

I felt like I was watching myself having the most amazing moment of my life: we glided gracefully across the dance floor and we smiled and laughed the entire time. His face, his features, all of him seemed so familiar. I wondered why I was able to remember him, even slightly, and not anything else.

My first thought was that my memory was slowly returning but I couldn't recall anything happening the previous days except that I was under a big oak tree with Mr. Mystery and we talked about our families and lives until the stars came out and we pointed out our favorite constallations. I remember waking up on his chest in the exact same place the day after. He says he knows me, even before this competition started, he says he was there when my former bestie, Lucy, announced to selected people of the plan to get rid of me. How would I know who she invited? She abhors me now. She would never speak to me again and the only person I can blame is myself.

"Hey, Laurel, are you listening to me?" I was jerked out of my thoughts and, sadly, back to reality.