Yay! Thanks for the reviews! I'm in a hurry to get this up so I'll do name mentions next chapter. It took me a while to write this one too, but I am trying, I really am, thank you all so much for your support because if I didn't get reviews, I probably wouldn't bother to write this. But I do like it. Sorry it's a bit short. Also sorry for the cliffy at the end…but it's just a small one, not a huge deal, I promise, so don't stress about it. (: As always, please review!!!

-Sienna

Chapter seven: Katie the Hunted

"Hey!"

You would think he could come up with something better to shout at us as we ran away from his shed. 'Hey' is not the height of human communication. It doesn't give us any information, like, "I'm calling the cops," or "I've got a shotgun" or "Get 'em, Fido!" might. But no, Hey! Let me stop right now and go reason this out with you!

"Hey! You!"

The woods are close now. I race to the scrubby undergrowth like…like something I would really want to get to. I don't know. Freddy's running alongside me, but once we hit the woods he drops back, slowed by all the vines and branches that go whip, whip, sting, poke.

Maybe I should try out for cross-country in high school. Hmm.

My feet fly me. It's probably just the trees going by, but I feel like I'm running faster than I've ever run before. Oh, and did I mention that I'm scared? Not exactly terrified, but startled and my mind is saying go! Go! Go!

"Hey!"

Honestly, if he can't think of something more imaginative….

"Hey—KATIE!"

I stop short, about to burst out of the foresty cover. Freddy. Freddy is now yelling 'hey'.

"Sorry," I say, turning around, a little flushed. Which turns out to be nothing compared with Freddy's red, sweating face. I almost laugh—who'd have thought you could sweat in the snow?

"Speed demon," he mutters.

"Sorry," I say again.

Freddy leans against a tree for a moment, breathing heavily. I raise one eyebrow.

"I think you're a little out of shape, Fredward."

He glares at me. "That's not true. It's just my legs. My legs are slow."

"Right—"

"My arms are fast," he continues. Guess he feels defensive…beat at running by a girl. Beat senseless. Booyah!

No, no Katie, be nice.

"I know they are, like when you drum. Where's the bus stop?"

"Oh. Um…that way, I think." He points left. I nod.

It's annoyingly slow to trudge through the edge of the woods, especially after my burst of speed a few moments ago. I try to remember the last time I really ran. Probably playing tag sometime last year, maybe at Zack's birthday party or something…anyway, a long time ago. I should run more often. It felt good.

We reach the bus stop—one of those little shelter things of plexiglass, so popular with homeless people—and I stay in the lovely vegetation while Freddy goes to check the schedule.

Haha. Note the sarcasm. It's damn cold out here, and crouching for five minutes makes my thighs hurt. I'd sit on the ground, but then the snow would melt and I'd have a wet butt…and no one wants that. Especially me. I start to rock back and forth to ease the strain.

I wonder if they're looking for us? They must be. My parents must be freaking out…. Do I feel guilty? I ask myself. Surprisingly, the answer is no. Good little Katie, obedient daughter, family slave…is doing something for herself! Screw them!

Ouch, that's corny. I sound like a sixties pop song. And not even a good sixties pop song…as if there were any….

No, but seriously. This is exciting. Nervappiness agrees with me. Being with Freddy agrees with me, even when Freddy himself doesn't.

He makes a good pillow, too, some rogue part of my consciousness thinks.

"Er, right. That…too."

I look towards the bus stop, determined not to think anymore.

Freddy returns, practically crawling along, talking to himself. "Six thirty, seven fifteen. Six thirty, seven fifteen."

"Those our bus times?"

"Yep," he nods. I notice he has a piece of paper in his hand, all crumpled and torn at the top. It's electric pink.

"What's that?" I ask at the same moment as he asks, "why are you rocking like a madwoman?"

"It's hard to stay in this position."

I watch him think about this—probably considering lewd connections to be made to the word "position". After a moment he says, "and the ground's not good enough for you?"

"Well, I don't want my butt to get wet. And I really, really have to pee now."

"Right. You know, I actually forgot I had to go, in all that adrenaline excitement.…" He checks his watch. "We've got like, half an hour until the bus comes. You go that way (point left), I'll go this way (point right). If you don't come back in twenty minutes I'll come after you." He winks. I shudder.

"Freddy Jones, I can't pee in the woods."

He looks shocked. "What? Why not?"

"Anatomy," I mumble.

"What?"

"ANATOMY, Jones. You know, girls have to sit down and everything." I can't believe I'm having this conversation with him!

Freddy just grins.

"What?" I say this time.

"Well, I'm relieved to find out you don't have a—"

"Ah! No! You pervert!"

"Whoa! Calm down now, Katie Brown. I was just kidding, I couldn't resist."

"You can't resist anything."

"Yes I can, but that's not the point." He holds up his hands, trying to placate me. "Can't you…can't you like, sit on a tree or something?"

I roll my eyes. "Why don't we just go to 7-11 and ask to use the bathroom or something."

"Because," he says, and I remember the piece of paper as his grip on it tightens.

My legs are screaming. I stand up and stretch, bending at the waist to stay low. "What is that?"

Freddy is quiet. From this angle—usually I'm an inch or two below him—I can see his hair is suffering from gel withdrawal. The spikes are kinda softened. My own hair falls over his face when he looks up at me. Awkwardly, he hands me the paper.