𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 ᐅ 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙩

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Friends don't keep secrets.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Dare," Clint says.

Minho jumps in immediately. "I dare ya to kiss the person in the circle ya find most attractive."

At his words, Newt immediately bristles next to me, his shoulders tensing at he stares at Clint, not with any malice, rather hesitation. His brows dip into a frown as Clint scans over us quickly, but he then relaxes as Clint's gaze falls on Jeff. A small smile replaces Newt's confusion as he watches the two of them — unable to take their eyes off each other.

"I'm not doin' that," Clint mutters, tearing his eyes from Jeff.

"It's either forfeit or truth," I say simply, shooting Jeff an amused glance which he returns with nothing short of a death stare.

"I'm not built for twenty laps 'round the Glade!"

"Pick truth then," Minho says.

Newt leans in closer to me, filling my senses with the scent of vanilla. I can feel myself blush as he whispers in my ear, "What are ya up to?"

Newt pretends not to see the shiver that runs through me, but quickly pulls back when he does. His eyes never leave mine, set alight by an orange flame, dancing and twirling in the deep brown. I raise my eyebrows at him. "You'll see."

Minho smirks. "Who d'ya find most attractive in the circle?"

"Shuck you," Clint growls. His eyes flick to Jeff and away again, but he then rolls his eyes and stand up. "Well, if I'm gonna do this I might as well get a kiss out of it."

In two smooth strides, Clint walks across to a surprised Jeff, cupping his neck and pulling him close to him before their lips come crashing down on each other. Minho jumps up and high fives me as we avert our eyes from the two, giving them some privacy. Newt covers Chuck's stunned eyes with a chuckle, and then slaps him playfully when Chuck tries to look again.

"We're amazing," Minho says proudly, brushing imaginary dirt off of his shirt.

"Right?"

"Get a room!" Frypan shouts, yet Clint and Jeff don't even notice. When they pull away, both blushing furiously, all of the Gladers cheer and hoot, making Jeff send Minho a glare and Clint shoot him a bright smile of thanks.

"I told ya," I say to Jeff, just quiet enough so no one else can hear.

Jeff's blush deepens. "Shut up."

Two hours pass by, two hours full of giggles and protests, embarrassment and hysterics. I laugh at Gally, who just got pranked by Minho on a dare from Chuck, the melodic sound ringing in my ears. Gally screamed at us for a good ten minutes before calming down and walking back to his friends. Newt was tied from a tree upside down for two minutes, and could barely stand upright when he got down. I had to have a fight with Minho, which I won surprisingly. Winston and Frypan staged an argument, which no one but a few people bought into since it was well known in the Glade we were playing truth or dare. I laugh as Chuck does a stupid dance around the fire. The harder I laugh, the easier I slip away, the campfire blurring, the faces morphing into blocks of colour, becoming completely unrecognisable. I'm alone. Again.

Muffled voices screech in my ears, and I grip the first thing within my reach to steady me, though I'm not sure whom I'm now clinging onto. "Thea? Alethea?"

My eyes widen as the campfire morphs into focus. The flames are red. Oh my god.

They're burning blood.

Darkness.

❀

My vision still black, voices erupt around me, numbing my hearing as the noises fade in and out of focus. My eyes are still closed, but through the feeling of my body being set alight, I can feel my back pressed against something coarse. Something holds my head up, strong and supportive. I can barely hear the voices; I anchor my attention onto the warmth around me instead of the noises growing ever louder, hurting my head with each syllable.

"Get out of the way, you shank!"

Stop.

"Everyone just piss off!"

Please.

"Give her some bloody space!"

Newt. I immediately relax, being able to pick out at least one person in the sea of confusion I find myself drowning in. His voice doesn't send spikes of pain through my brain as the others do, but they soothe the pain, almost as if he were a hand pulling me out of the ocean.

"What's happenin' to her?" his voice says, hitched in concern. I cling to it, using it as my way to calm myself. I couldn't open my eyes even if I wanted to. A griever flashes across my vision, and I jolt as the sudden nightmarish creature screeches at me. It appears again, it's metal parts screaming against the stone floor of the Maze, making me flinch again. I just want to go to sleep. Please let me go to sleep. I jolt again as the griever swings at me. Newt's voice cracks, "Can someone please explain what's happening to her?"

The voices are distant — inaudible, each one ripping my head open. My hands grasp onto something, anything, to try and block out the pain. Fabric knots under my hands, it's someone's shirt.

"Alethea?" Newt whispers. "Can ya hear me?"

Just knowing he's there is enough to force words out of my mouth. "Unfortunately," I whisper through the pain, so quiet I'm surprised Newt could hear me at all. My eyes flutter open to meet his eyes, warped with concern. I stare up into his face, hating that I'm so vulnerable, hating that he's looking down at me with tears building in his eyes. One hand is holding my head up so it doesn't fall against the log, and a warmth spreads from his touch into me.

He raises his other hand to my face; he hesitates. His hand drops. A part of me wishes he hadn't hesitated. Instead, his voice is gentle, conveying what would have been his soft touch into his tone. "Where does it hurt?"

"Why didn't ya tell us?" Clint says almost immediately, earning an elbow jab from Jeff and Minho.

"What did you expect me to do?" I say, willing my voice stronger than I feel, gaining my strength the longer I will my eyes open. "You two threatened to tell Alby."

Jeff's voice is calm. "S'not a bad thing."

"They could be a message from the creators."

❀

An hour later, I'm already feeling better — I've learnt to recover easily from these visions by now, though I do get the occasional spark of pain, in which I dig my fingernails in the stone seat under me to eradicate the feeling. I want nothing more than to scream, or at the very least punch someone. Perhaps Gally would volunteer.

"She's not goin' into the Maze tomorrow," Alby says, his eyes masked with boredom.

"I am."

"No, you're not," Newt disagrees.

I scoff at him. I fully expected this reaction from Alby but Newt? I thought we were friends? We've been through this already — it's pointless to tell me that I can't go in the Maze, everyone knows I'll just go back in there anyway. It's their decision whether I do that breaking the rules or not. "You can't stop me."

"I'll put ya in the Slammer myself if I have to but you're not going in there again," he retorts, his eyes unyielding. He's not going to back down. Good. Because neither am I. If there's one thing I've learn about myself the past three weeks, it's that I'm one stubborn bitch.

"Newt, don't ya think that's a bit—" Winston starts, but Newt cuts him off.

"No! No, I don't. What happens if she has another vision in the Maze and she can't get back out?"

"I won't—"

Frypan cuts me off. "He does have a point."

"Really, Fry?"

"Sorry, Greenie."

"If you're really that fussed then someone can run with me," I snap at Alby and Newt. "But I am going back into the Maze tomorrow whether you like it or not."

I storm out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me, rage boiling my blood. I don't want to speak to anyone, not right now. I'll only scream at them. It's dark outside, and I can barely see anything through the fog. I just want to be alone right now. I can't believe after everything, Newt's still trying to stop me from going in there. I curse silently as the door opens again, and footsteps near me.

"Ya didn't tell me," Newt's voice says, a monotone.

When I turn around, Newt's looking at me with a frown, anger flickering in his eyes. My breath almost catches. Almost. I've seen him angry before, but he was never angry because of me. I match his nonchalant tone. "No."

"Why?" he whispers. I just stare at him. The fireflies hover around him as fog begins to settle, making it hard to see him clearly, the air around him a cloudy green. He takes a step forward; I can almost feel his frustration. It only makes me seethe. He has no right to be angry at me. His voice is harsher this time, almost making me flinch. "Why?"

I explode. "Because I didn't want you looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm broken!" I yell, the anger that's built up over the past hour bubbling over and spilling out of me — faster than a gushing river. "Like it's your job to put me back together and I get it, Newt! You help people, it's what you do. But I don't need help."

Newt retorts immediately, shaking his head in disbelief at me. "Are ya crazy? Of course you do, you've been seein' things for weeks and haven't told anyone!"

I stare at him. I told Minho. I told Minho instead of him. Thats why he's angry. Because I kept this from him. I stay silent, not wanted to reveal anything more on the subject, it would just make us both more irritated.

But Newt catches on. "But you did, didn't you?"

I don't reply.

"Minho," Newt says after a while, connecting the pieces in his head like a puzzle. I don't meet his gaze, guilt suffocating me. "You told Minho?"

I snap, "Because he doesn't give me pity."

"And I do?"

"Yes! It's all you ever do!"

"Well, I'm sorry for caring," Newt retaliates.

"I didn't ask you to care!"

Newt takes a step back, almost as if my words have slapped him round the face — which only intensifies my anger. How dare he. How dare he be the only person that could ever made me instantaneously regret my words. And I do. Seeing the look on his face, it makes me regret everything. I wish he could just smile at me.

"Why d'ya do that?" his voice starts of soft, almost inaudible, but then it builds into a yell as he continues. "You push away everyone who wants to help you and it pisses me off so much—"

"I don't want your help!"

"You're so goddamn stubborn," he snaps, kicking the grass with his foot, making mud fly up into the air. He jams his hands into his pockets.

"Why are you so bothered?" I roll my eyes. "Big deal, so I didn't tell you something."

"You're literally hallucinating!" he shouts.

"Wow, I didn't know that. Thanks for telling me."

He sighs, his voice tightening at his words, as if saying this caused him pain. "You didn't tell me."

I take a step away from him. He's right. And I hate him for it. I hate him so much that I don't even try to own up for it. I don't want to. I shouldn't have to. So I don't. "I've been here, what? Almost three weeks? Why should I tell you anything?"

"Because we're friends!" his voice is almost at a scream now. I don't flinch, I just stare at him, tears welling in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Not in front of him anyway. "Friends don't keep secrets."

I bristle almost immediately. There are so many things I haven't told him about myself — but it dawns on me that he hasn't told me anything either. I know nothing about this boy. My temper rises, because how dare he think that I'm obligated to tell him about myself when all I know about him is his stupid name? "So are we just pretending that you've not kept anything from me? Newt, I don't know a single thing about you!"

"And I don't know anything about you!"

"And who's fault is that?"

Newts voice drops dangerously low, "Don't pin this all on me."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you're just as bad at openin' up as I am! All I know about you is your name is Alethea, you're the most sarcastic and stubborn person I've ever met and you've got a saviour complex."

I tense immediately, processing his words as more fly off my tongue, almost like a reflex. "I do not!"

"Why else would you keep somethin' like this from everyone?"

"It's not that serious!"

"Yes it is!" He takes a step forward.

I take one back. My voice is final, absolute. "I don't want to talk about it."

His face deepens into a scowl and he snaps at me. "Fine by me."

I watch his back as he leaves, tempted to cry until I can't breathe, the person I'm closest to here walking away from me. I hate myself for not telling him — he should have been the first person I told. But I was scared. I didn't want to see him concerned, I didn't want to give him any more to be worried about. But in doing that, I've only hurt both of us.

I didn't sleep that night, one phrase spinning round my head like a broken record. I didn't mean it.

—

Thank you for your patience while I was writing this. I had another little break — school's started back up again but I can promise you I'll be more consistent from now onwards.

Thank you so much to those of you who vote and comment, you all really make my day (who gave ya'll the audacity to be so funny?).

Anyway, as always, stay safe ya shanks. I love you!

~ sophie xx
(2405 words)