Survivor ; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥

010. ꕥ The Worst Plan Possible

The door to Niylah's Rec Room shut behind me as I cautiously made my way down the hidden corridor until I reached the end, poking my head out and looking either way to determine if anyone was in sight. When I saw no one, I stepped out into the main hallway and began traveling back to my room with the book Catch-22 securely in my hand. I smiled down at the blue book, turning a few pages into where the summary resided and beginning to read it as I walked, testing my multitasking skills.

Ahead of me — ahead of everyone, lay waiting for Echo to take down the eye so Wonkru could march on the valley. Most everyone's routines would stay the same, much like mine, but it would be brutal.

Just as Callan had promised, this morning, he had awoken Ethan once more to prepare him for his day with Gaia and all his classes. The past few days, Ethan could not stop talking about how his class was going to train in front of Octavia today. It did have Callan, and I worried, though, because of the possibility of Octavia putting Ethan, or really any of the kids, by her side, which would place them directly in the middle of this war. I didn't want to be in the middle of this war, let alone Ethan, so it did have me anxious, but I wasn't going to deny Ethan this excitement — something I shamefully admit he never really gets.

"What do you have there?" At the sound of Harper's voice, I craned my neck, looking over my shoulder, watching the blond fall in step with me.

I waved the book in my hand. "It's called Catch-22. Sounds kinda interesting, don't you think?"

The blond nodded. "Yeah, it does. Where did you get it?"

My mouth opened, and I had to resist the urge to tell Harper I had obtained this story from Niylah's Rec Room, still maintaining my promise to keep it a secret. Harper was always the person I told everything to, so being unable to tell her this, even if it wasn't crucial information, had my stomach twisting in odd ways.

"I just... found it." I shook my head, hoping that my lying skills were on par with Harper's ability to discern if I was telling the truth or not. The blond seemed skeptical, throwing an unsure look my way — Harper could always tell when something was wrong, and evidently, that didn't change after our six-year separation.

But like the good friend she was, Harper didn't comment on it, choosing to speak about something I would rather not discuss. Her tone was tentative, and her voice soft as she was careful with her following words. "I wanted to ask you... um, what did you say to Bellamy last night?"

"What?" I abruptly halted in my path, blurting the word out as Harper didn't notice my stopping until she was a couple of steps ahead, turning back to look at me with what seemed to be a guilty expression.

Harper sighed, clasping her hands together in front of her, seeming as though she was nervous to mention this sort of thing to me, like we hadn't ever had a conversation this severe, but we had. To me, it felt like talking to Harper about stuff like this would be the same, yet so different, especially when we were talking about a topic as severe as this, so I had no idea where this conversation would end up.

"I know he went to find you, and when he came back, he just — he didn't sleep at all last night. He was staring at the monitor with this blank expression on his face and—"

"So, is the eye down?" I interrupted, my ears peeking at the mention of the monitor that would be going off when — if — Echo got her task done.

The blond's mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish before she regained her composure. "Jo, I think you're missing the point. Whatever happened last night, Bellamy was distraught, snappy."

"Well, Harper, I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't care about Bellamy." I snipped. "Not one bit."

Once more, Harper let out a sigh, but this time, it was more serene, more sad. "I know. But I care about you and Bellamy. I just wanna know why he's acting that way."