Chapter 2:"...I'd be on that boy like elves at a gift wrap sale!"

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After Jess had gotten de-weaponized, the guy she was slamming on stopped whimpering, and the overall mass chaos subsided, we were corralled together and brought over to the lovely little corner of the establishment otherwise known as mall jail. Before today, I didn't even know they actually had mall jails; honestly, I wasn't ever planning on finding out.

Anyway, Jess and I, thankfully, were separated from the sniveling little high-schoolers as we were put into cells. That, however, didn't stop Jess from reverting back to her insanely outgoing, happy-go-lucky-yet-simultaneously-neurotic self and trying to make friends with everyone in sight. And that, my friends, is how I got here today: sitting in a cell in the middle of Bruxington Mall while my friend tries to strike up a conversation with our "neighbors", despite my repeated attempts to stop her and warn her about the dangers of befriending prospective criminals.

Due to my experience with the law--not in the way you think, I'm actually studying to be a lawyer someday-- I knew it would take a while for anything to get done, so I started to amuse myself by getting lost in my thoughts. Thinking about the overall absurdity of my situation, I wondered how the other people were taking it--I'm sure that those cocky little freshmen must be pretty close to peeing their designer jeans right now. My thoughts also kept wandering over to that mysterious guy who helped me in the fountain...I wonder where he's being kept? Is he angry that he's stuck with the rest of us just because he was trying to help, or is he just laughing at the whole thing? Not only that, but I never learned his name.

Well, that shouldn't exactly be my first priority at the moment, huh? I mean, what type of person daydreams about some nameless guy who was actually kinda rude when she's sitting on the floor in freaking mall jail? Not sane people, that's who.

I'm brought out of my reverie by Jess, who's shaking my arm as she whispers furiously in my ear.

"Look!" she hisses, "It's that guy from the fountain with the security guard! They're all in cahoots..maybe we should think about making a break for it!"

"Jess, even though a seven-year-old could probably break out of this place, I really don't think running from the law is the best thing to do right now," I caution, "but still, what the hell? That guy gets out and is all chummy with the guard while we're stuck in here?!"

"I know, right? Totally unfair. And c'mon Sarah, it'd be running from mall security. It's not like it even counts."

"Shut up for a second, Jess! He's coming this way, and I really don't think he needs to hear your whole "prison break" plan!"

As the guard approaches our cell, we manage to catch the tail-end of the conversation he's having. The guard, a middle-aged man with a bit of a beer belly, is listening to the stranger with the eyes--stop staring, Sarah, they're just eyes--as he tries to persuade him of...something.

"Look, Pete, it was just all a misunderstanding. You can let the girls go--it really doesn't need to be on their record. Any of their records, for that matter."

Wait, this could end up on my permanent record? I can just see it now; I get an interview with a top law school, and while they're looking at my record they ask me, "Ms. Thompson, would you mind explaining this?" and adios to Stanford, Harvard, Princeton, any school of my dreams!

The guard seems unsure as he responds to what could be the savior of my career, "I guess if you're vouchin' for the adult ones, Logan, we could let it slide. The kids'll only get a warning since they're underage an' all."

Yes! I literally did a mental happy dance. Looking over at Jess, I saw she was doing an actual one. My future was saved, thanks to Logan! Wait--Logan? I thought I was going insane with the whole "I recognize his eyes" thing, but I just KNOW I've heard that name before.

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