OOOOKKKKK, SECOND CHAPTER! Shoutout to Guest for my first review! you don't know how much I smiled and squealed when I saw it. This chapter is longer then the first one and I hope you guys like it. Another shoutout to Fangirl7777 for liking this story, it means so much. Love you guys and thanks for reading!

"Oh. My. Gosh." Fitz. Freaking. Vacker is standing on my doorstep. On my DOORSTEP.

"Am I dreaming? Somebody slap me," I say, still gawking.

"I'll slap you," a new voice offers. A boy a little older than me steps up from behind Fitz. He smirks and I nearly faint from how cute he is.

"I'm-" I cut him off. "Keefe Sencen," I finish.

He looks surprised. Then that surprise morphed into suspicion. Keefe looked at me through narrowed ice blue eyes "How did you know that?"

I shrugged. "Lucky guess?" It came out more of a question then an answer. Keefe moved to touch my hand but a smaller hand grabbed his wrist.

"Keefe, not now," a female voice commands. My eyes travel up her arm to meet brown eyes.

"Oh cheeseballs. You're Sophie Foster. Your actually real! And ALIVE!" I exclaim. But then I immediately clamp my mouth shut, realizing what I had just said. Sophie's face takes on a confused expression. "Of course I'm alive. Why wouldn't I be alive?"

"Uh, y-you guys should come i-inside. It's kind of c-cold out here. See? Brrr," I say through fake chattering teeth.

"You never answered Wonder-er- Fitz's question," a strawberry blonde pipes.

"You're Dex!" I realize. "Oh my balls can you fix my laptop? It's driving me crazy because it won't freaking turn on."

"Oh. And please, Biana, I know your there. You don't have to stay vanished." I watch their faces for signs of shock. I giggle when it happens. Biana appears, momentarily angry for being discovered. "Come in, come in, make yourselves at ho-" I stop short when I see a book lying next to my popcorn bowl on the coffee table. A book that would absolutely horrify my guest if they saw it. "Crap," I mutter scrambling to retrieve it. I feel a hand clamp down on my wrist and spin around to find the hand belongs to Keefe. I try to cover my sense of panic and horror with happy feeling, knowing him to be an Empath. Yeah, I don't think it's working.

"What are you hiding, Stranger?" he asks, glancing a look down at his hand on my wrist.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Not a thing," I answer, giggling nervously. I silently curse myself for ranting. And for the giggling. I try not to look at the Keeper Of The Lost Cities book but my eyes seem to fail me and I do it anyways. Keefe follows my gaze. "And what's that?" Neither of us have noticed the other trailing in behind us.

"Nothing," I squeak. Repeating myself. When he starts toward it, I yank my hand free and snatch it up, sprinting to my room. But, since luck seems to avoid me,Keefe tackles me to the ground. Not caring that I'm a girl, apparently. Under normal circumstances I would be thrilled to find that Keefe-and everybody else- was since this isn't normal circumstances, I wish he was back to being a book character. Coming back to reality I find Keefe pinning my hands to the ground. Sitting on my chest he looks down at me. "What's that?" He ask again. He gestures with his head toward the book I'm clutching in my hand. Thank you God that the cover is facing the floor.

"I won't tell you," I grunt. He flashes his trademark smirk when I struggle to get free. A smirk I'm slowly falling in love with but trying not to admit to myself.

"You can't get free. I mean, it's pretty obvious your not the strongest."

I glance at the others, who have gathered behind Keefe. There's concern in their eyes but none of them move to help. I give Keefe a smirk of my own and announce, "And that's where you're wrong." With that I kick Keefe out from under me and grin when I hear a thump and a grunt. I take the stairs two at a time and make it to my bedroom. As fast as I can I chuck the book out my window, which I fortunately left open from a couple of hours ago. I hear hurried footsteps on the stairs and I turn with a grin towards the door. My grin grows wider when Keefe and the others appear, Keefe rubbing his backside. He glares at me until he notices my hand behind my back.

"What's that behind your back, Stranger?" I knew he was going to ask.

I show him my empty hands and repeat my earlier words. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Not. A. Thing."