+Chapter Eight+

"Chris," Lance said knocking on Chris' door and peeking inside. Chris was a heavy sleeper, but not as heavy as Joey.

Lance walked over to Chris' bed and climbed in, just like a scared little boy, "Chris," he shook Chris to try and wake him up.

"What?" Chris asked sleepily.

"I remember what happened," Lance told him, "there was..."

"Don't tell me," Chris interrupted, fully waking up, "the police might think I changed your story if you tell me."

"The police. That's right. We have to go to the police and tell them what happened," Lance pulled as Chris' arm.

"Not now," Chris pulled his arm out of Lance's grasp, "it's two am, they're no going to be there."

"But they have to be open. I have to tell them what happened so we can set Justin and JC free," Lance pled with his light green eyes.

"I want them free as much as you, but we can't do anything right now."

"OK, but I'm going right when the station opens in the morning," Lance got up and walked out of Chris' room. He skipped back into his room and jumped onto his bed. He knew he wasn't going to get much sleep tonight.

"Who's ready to wake up?" Justin felt himself being shaken awake by Matt.

"Not me," Justin turned over.

"You better before you get in trouble again," Matt started pulling him up.

"OK, I'm getting up," Justin sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, "what form of torture is in for us today?"

"Hmm, not much. We're going outside to clean some other park, than we're carving pumpkins."

"Really? It's already October?" Justin asked

"Yes, where have you been," Matt leaned against the bars of their cell.

"Wow, I've been in here for almost 6 months now," Justin stood up and stretched.

Lance ran into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Why in such a rush?" Joey questioned him.

"Because I got to go to the police station," Lance picked up an apple and took a bite out of it.

"What for?"

"I have to tell them the truth," Lance ran out the door with his coffee and apple.

"Truth about what?" Joey looked over at Chris.

"He remembers what happened. I don't know what he remembers, but he remembers it," Chris poured milk into a glass and started to drink it.

"How do you know?"

Chris put his milk down, "he came in my room around two am and told me."

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" Joey was playing with spoons by flipping them.

"Because no one likes you," Chris smiled innocently at him.

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