Chapter 4: I couldn't stay there…

Song: 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' by Green Day

Alright, ya'll. I've been getting awesome feedback, and I'm loving it! You peoples are fabulous! I 3 you! Blackfphoenix, the man that met her, I kinda invented him. and thanks to you and everyone else for the input.

Anne shivered as she kept walking. The sun was beginning to set, and it made everything cold. She adjusted her backpack straps on her shoulders, and zipped her sweatshirt up all the way. The broken sidewalk led her farther and farther away from what she knew as home. She wondered what would happen when night fell, she looked around for some place where she could curl up for the night.

Why did she leave the warm comfort of the convent again? Oh yeah, because she had to. She ran over her reasoning in her mind. She couldn't stay there because then the sisters, and Mother would be in danger, because she needed space, because she wanted to know why the man at the gate wanted her to leave so bad. A cold wind blew up a tiny vortex of leaves that caught Anne in it, blowing her hair and making her even colder.

She'd spent that past week since she left the convent just walking. Sometimes she felt like she was looking to find someone, other times, she felt like she was looking to be found. She hadn't had a good night's sleep since she left either. And she'd been mugged at gunpoint three days ago, so she had no money to buy food.

I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone

Anne heard a distant crackling sound, and it made her stop walking. She listened carefully, and she heard faint talking. She followed the sound and it led her to an alley that was lit up by a fire coming out of an old garbage can. Standing around the makeshift bonfire were two men and one woman. They were dressed in old tattered clothes and the woman had a small child she was holding to her hip.

"It's gonna be cold tonight." The man closest to Anne said. He wore an old Yankees baseball cap. "We'll need to set another one of these."

The other two nodded their agreement. Anne just peered at them around the corner, not yet wanting to be seen. The sight of them fascinated her. She'd seen this type of situation in movies, never in real life. She vaguely noted the presence of several other people sitting along the alleyway, but she kept her gaze on the fire. It looked so warm, so inviting. Her mind was so focused on the blaze; she didn't notice that she was being watched.

"It's not a private party, you can join if you wish."

Anne's gaze snapped to the corner of the alley. There sat the outline of a man, Anne was slightly startled by the rough voice that had alerted the others to her presence. All eyes turned on her.

"Come on over, dear, warm up. You look cold," the woman said, smiling and adjusting the child's position. She had a thick Long Island accent, and an inviting smile. Anne stepped out from behind the wall she was leaning against and timidly walked towards them. Most of the party smiled when they saw her, some adjusted themselves uncomfortably from where they sat. The woman just kept smiling; she walked over to Anne and took her arm in hers, and walked her over to the fire. Anne sighed softly ant the pleasant warmth of the fire and nodded a thank you to the woman.

"Where ya from, doll?" She asked, attempting to release her long straight hair from the baby's fist.

"Uh," Anne hesitated slightly, "Soho." she said smiling back, rubbing her hands over the fire, and trying to dissipate the seemingly impervious cold.

"Really now? Well, I used to work out there… a long time ago." The woman's smile seemed to fade slightly as she stared into the fire, remembering times past. Anne noticed that she suddenly looked very weary.

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
and I'm the only one and I walk alone

After a while in front of the fire, talking to her newfound friends, Anne realized how tired she was. She decided to go and sit down against the wall. She looked around the alleyway at the number of people gathered in the crude shelter. There were solitary inhabitants, couples, families, and a few animals that went from person to person looking for some kind of handout. Anne noticed only one empty space against the wall, the one next to the man who had invited her with his voice. She plucked up the courage and walked over to the space. She looked at him.

"Is… is anyone sitting here?"

The man just shook his head. She looked him over once before she sat. A gray hooded sweatshirt hid his face, on top of that was a red flannel coat. He had on a pair of weathered jeans and old brown hiking boots; and from what Anne could see, he had dark hair that stuck out from the hood. She felt an unusual sensation when she sat down next to him, but she just wrote it off as nerves.

"Thanks." She said politely and she made herself comfortable, hugging her knees to her chest, and placing her backpack beside her, keeping it close.

"For what?" He asked, still keeping his gaze to the ground, and his face hidden. Anne was a little surprised when he spoke. His voice did sound rough, but not as much as before, and it sounded… young.

"For letting me sit here." She said plainly. "You could've told me to beat it, but you didn't. And for that, I thank you." Anne pulled the hood of her own sweatshirt over her head to conserve warmth. She watched as a few of the men set up another bonfire in a large metal can. She felt eyes watching her again, and she turned towards the man sitting next to her, and found herself looking into the brightest blue eyes she'd ever seen. She waited a few moments, their gazes locked before she spoke.

"May I help you?" She asked.

"You're new to this aren't you?" He returned.

"New to what?" Anne was amazed how she could see his blue eyes plain as day, yet not the rest of his face.

"Living like this." He was a man of few words apparently.

"How can you tell?"

He paused a minute, during which she watched his eyes graze over her, as she supposed they had done many times since she arrived, and she felt flushed when his eyes finally came back up to meet hers.

"You seem out of place."

Anne raised an eyebrow. "How so?" She wasn't sure how, but she knew he was smiling.

"You just… don't look like you fit in. You look… too good for this."

Anne wasn't sure how to take that.

"I'm not sure ho to take that…" She turned her gaze back to the fire. And tried to ignore the feeling that his eyes were watching her.

"You have a name?" he asked.

"Gypsy." She said without missing a beat. Why'd she give him that name?

"Gypsy…" he repeated. She could hear his smile again.

"Yeah, what of it?" She asked, feigning defensiveness.

"Nothing, it's just…"

"It's just what?" She asked, looking back at him.

"Pretty." He said plainly. Anne found herself smiling. She had approval for the name. She wasn't sure why she felt like this complete stranger could giver her approval, but she did.

"What about you?" she asked after a moment.

"What about me?" he returned. She shifted in her seat and looked at him straight on, giving him a glare that was meant to say, 'you know what'.

"Ah, my name, aye?" he asked, still facing forward. She could really hear his smile in his tone.

"My name's Sacha. It means,"

"It means helper and defender of mankind." She interrupted. This made him turn to face her directly.

"Yeah…" he looked at her, somewhat amazed. She looked at him, now able to see most of his face. He had straight black hair that hung in his eyes, his incredibly piercing blue eyes. His face was handsome and young; it was covered by a five o'clock shadow. Anne noticed a faint scar that ran along his jaw line. She made a note to find out about that.

I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line
Of the edge and where I walk alone

"So how long have you been living… um…" Anne started.
"Like this?" Sacha finished. He continued after she nodded. "For all of my twenty years."

They were now both facing each other, sitting Indian-style on the cold hard concrete, their knees almost touching. They'd been talking for a half an hour about nothing in particular, really. The weather, the fire, that one brown dog that sat in the corner with the oldest man Anne had ever seen. The more they talked the more Sacha realized how beautiful this girl looked to him. Her shoulder-length brown hair, her captivating green eyes, everything about her struck him as beautiful. He felt himself vowing to never leave her side. Not like he had anything better to do, right?

Ok ya'll. Finally got the 4th chapter up. I think with the next chapter, I'll no longer be calling my lead character Anne. Her name will officially change to Gypsy. Review please! Constructive criticism always helps!