EIGHTEEN ; BACK TO SQUARE ONE
She tried her best to push the thought out of her head. She tried her best to forget about it and just focus on the matter at hand; on surviving and getting them all to the Right Arm.
She failed miserably.
Her mind, it seemed, was relentless and would not grant Evanna a small break. It kept reminding her over and over again that; no, she would not be allowed into the Safe Haven; yes, she would end up like Winston and no, there was no chance for her and Thomas.
Evan had put up a front. Newt noticed, Frypan, too. Even Minho kept his remarks to himself. Brenda watched Evanna carefully, almost as if waiting for her to crack. It was Thomas who spoke up about it, though. It was him who held her back from the others as they made their way to Bertha, which turned out to be an old truck.
His hand grasped hers. Too softly and too gently. His eyes were too apologetic, too nice. Strangely enough, Evan was starting to miss his interrogative gaze. If only a little.
Thomas' eyebrows were furrowed, his mouth set in a thin line. She looked away when his lips parted.
"Evanna, I – "
Evanna
They were back to square one. Her nickname had been forgotten and Thomas was back to addressing her by her full name. She wanted to shake her head at how wrong it sounded. Too formal, too foreign, too awkward.
Evan's heart was throbbing painfully. She didn't hear the rest he said. She tuned him out the moment her name fell from his lips. It was odd how her own name felt like a punch to the gut. She mentally berated herself because, god, she sounded like a teenage fool and Evan liked to think she was far from that.
He said her name again. Evan swallowed hard and gathered all that was left of her determination... and she looked at Thomas. She looked at him like she had done before the kiss, before they had made a mistake. She looked at him with indifference.
"Are you okay?" Thomas asked. A stupid question. A rhetorical question. When had Evan been okay? Since they had escaped from WICKED, when had she really, truly, been okay? Thomas spoke up again, as if realizing the foolishness of his own inquiry. "What did you see... before you fell?"
Evan almost scoffed. No, she almost spat in his face. Was that all Thomas had wanted to ask her since they left Marcus'? Was that question the only reason he had practically burned a hole in her skull? She wanted to laugh, more so at herself because she felt so completely idiotic for even thinking it could work between them.
With her on death row and Thomas who seemed to suffer from some sort of super-hero complex, Evanna should have known better. She should have known that it hadn't been a good time to let herself be controlled by her thoughts, to drop her guard, or to even develop feelings in the first place. It had been reckless and dumb. And she should have known better.
She wanted to answer him like she would have before. Evan had always been honest with Thomas – perhaps a little too honest, but still. Yet she couldn't now. Not anymore.
"Nothing," Evanna said. Her voice came out stronger than she felt. Calmer, too. It was the polar opposite of everything going on inside her mind and she was grateful, so grateful, that she could still mask whatever she felt. Even if just a little. "I saw nothing."
She was done letting them in.
Thomas shot her a disbelieving look. She shrugged it off, not even bothering to ask what he had seen – who he had seen. Because, quite frankly, Evanna didn't really care. Or rather, she didn't want to care. So she convinced herself that she couldn't give less of a shit and quickened her pace.
The hurt had turned into annoyance and Evan was very close to decking Thomas in the face if he spoke another word to her. Fortunately, she had more self-control than she expected, for when the boy spoke again, she didn't knock him out.
"I'm sorry," me, too, Evanna wanted to say. For what, she wasn't sure. Perhaps for being a nuisance, a liability he didn't ask for...for making him forget. "for what happened back at – "
She cut him off without meaning to. Let it slip without wanting to. "You mean the kiss?"
It irked her that he couldn't even say it. Thomas gulped and nodded as he scratched the back of his neck. Evan stared at him with incredulity. She wanted to punch his jaw, poke his eye, break his nose – anything to make him feel an ounce of what she had felt when she had woken up to Brenda with him across the room.
Maybe she really was losing her mind. And maybe Thomas knew this, too.
"Can we just forget about it?" he said quietly. His voice was timid, hesitant. Good, Evan thought. She would have smirked in satisfaction if not for the sting in her chest and the burning in her eyes. "I don't..."
He trailed off. She knew why. Thomas didn't know what else to say other than half-hearted apologies. He didn't even try to explain himself, telling her why on earth he had even kissed her or why he didn't stop. He didn't try. And maybe, that was what hurt most.
"Don't worry about it," Evan spat, adjusting her knapsack Brenda had given her before they left for their search of Bertha. Thomas frowned. "Already forgotten."
She had been unable to keep the spite from her voice. The hurt that flashed across Thomas' face almost made Evan want to take back her words and apologize and tell him that it was okay and that it was her own fault.
Almost.
Instead, Evan bit her tongue, swallowed down her words and walked away from him. Her pace was impossibly fast and she nearly broke out in a sprint if Jorge hadn't saved her and announced the discovery of Bertha.
She stood in the back of a worn-down garage, half of her covered with an old dusty blanket. Evan failed to see how it would help shield the truck from any damage but she supposed Marcus had his reasons.
He had stayed behind with a bloody nose and a promise to give WICKED false information. Evan didn't trust a word he had said. He was a snake, through and through. But Jorge seemed pleased enough with the words spoken and so he let it be.
The older man pulled away the blanket entirely and grinned. Then he turned to them. "Alright, six can sit inside. The other two remaining will have to sit in the back outside, but we've got sweaters and blankets here."
Evan simply watched as Frypan, Minho and Teresa situated themselves on the backseat. It was a little cramped but they managed. Evanna felt the corners of her lips tug up at the wide grin on Newt's face as he climbed in and sat in the front. He beckoned Thomas over who walked over reluctantly.
Brenda gave Evanna a glance and a smile and climbed in the back, wrapping a thick blanket around her. Jorge placed his hand on Evan's shoulder and jerked his head towards the back of the pick-up truck. She only nodded. But as she went to move, his grip on her shoulder tightened. Evan looked at him with a tinge of fear.
It disappeared as soon as she locked eyes with him. They were warm and soft and all things they hadn't been before. The man was staring at her oddly familiar and a memory pushed against Evan's brain, wanting to make itself known. Though the more she chased it, the more distant it became.
Jorge smiled at her. It was small and barely there but it was a smile all the same. One that tugged at Evan and reminded her of something she couldn't put her finger on for the life of her.
"When we get to the Right Arm, niñita," he said, dropping his hand from her shoulder. "I think we should have a little talk."
There was nothing menacing or threatening to his words and Evan found herself nodding. She found herself wanting nothing more than to have that talk, as something about Jorge was so familiar and so weirdly right that it drove her crazy not knowing.
He made his way over to the driver seat and got in without another word. Evan climbed in the back and said a small 'thank you' to Brenda as the brunette girl handed her a thick sweater and a blanket.
Evan had lost her cardigan back at the club, and her shirt was a lot higher than she started out with because she had to use a strip as a makeshift bandage. But as she pulled the sweater over her head, she felt a little warmer again. She felt a little more normal again, oddly enough.
She tried not, but smelled the material anyway. Evan shrunk into the sweater, dug her nose into the fabric and inhaled sharply. In spite of the worn-down garage and the infernal world just outside its walls, the sweater smelled of bark after Spring's first rain; something she would never forget as her grandfather always made sure she was outside but covered during it.
And then, her lips curled into a genuine and reminiscent smile and she finally felt something mellow again.
⊡⊡⊡⊡
The drive was long and seemingly endless. Evan had draped another blanket over her and stared at the passing road as she leaned against the truck. Her sweaty hair stuck to the window behind her but she didn't mind. Her hands were cold and her eyes were watering but she didn't care.
Her gaze was locked onto the road and the dirt surrounding them. Broken electric wires littered the ground, along with the scattered backpacks here and there. It seemed numerous people had dared to trek to the Right Arm, yet had evidently not made it. Evan wondered what might have happened to those people, where they are now. Should they still be alive.
Truth was, Evanna was practically doing everything she could to not let her mind wander. To not let her think too much about Thomas' words and how he had reacted when she spat them back in his face. To not think about whether the Right Arm would even allow her access, or send her back out into the Scorch.
Not that it would matter all that much, in the end. If she did go back into the Scorch, she would go crazy in a matter of weeks, become a Crank in a matter of days. And then she wouldn't even remember how the people in the Safe Haven denied her and pushed her away.
She wouldn't even remember Thomas, or everything they've been through.
A long and deep sigh fell from Evanna's lips as she rolled her head back. Brenda glanced at her from the corner of her eye.
"You okay there?"
"The sky's so dull," Evan eventually mumbled as she frowned. She could feel Brenda's confusion. "It's just...blue."
"It tends to be like that, yes."
Evanna didn't chuckle. Didn't so much as smile. She simply frowned at the sky and reached out for it with her hand. She didn't care how ridiculous she looked. "All we get is blue skies and starry nights. I can't even remember the last time it rained."
Brenda was silent for a moment, and then said, "If you're going to perform a rain dance, then at least wait until we get out of this truck."
The barest of smiles stretched across Evan's lips. She glanced at Brenda. "Care to join me when I do?"
"I'll just watch, thanks," the girl replied, shaking her head as she chuckled. Brenda seemed hesitant as she opened her mouth, and her question came out timid. "Did something happen? Between you and Thomas?"
Evanna averted her gaze back to the sky. Her mind drew a blank. She wasn't sure what to say. All Evan really wanted was to move past it and eventually forget about it. There was no point in her dwelling in the past, mulling over something as silly as a kiss.
Can we just forget about it?
Yes, Thomas wanted to forget, too. He wanted to act like it hadn't happened, so that he might still have a chance with Teresa. Because even though he had claimed that he did not at all like Teresa in any way whatsoever, Evan found it hard to believe when all he did was stick by her side.
So she chose her next words carefully. Evan chose them deliberately, almost like she knew Thomas could hear her through his open window. She chose to say the harsh truth rather than the pretty lies.
"Nothing," Evan said. There was no spite in her tone. It wasn't monotonous either. It was simply her telling the way things were. Because the kiss was nothing. It had meant nothing to Thomas, and so it would mean nothing to her. Not if she wanted to move past it. "Nothing happened."
And she left it at that. Brenda didn't pry any further, and Evan wished she could tell the other girl how grateful she was for that. But then she would have to explain why and so Evan kept quiet and offered the brunette girl a small smile.
The truck slowed down. Evan looked around her, surprised to find herself in the mountains, for they had been driving in plains not too long ago. She heard the doors of the truck creak open and she watched carefully as everyone slowly got out of the car.
Evanna shared a look with Brenda, who seemed equally confused. She merely shrugged, though, and hopped off the truck. Evan let out a sigh and began climbing down herself. It didn't help that Bertha stood high from the ground and Evan wasn't exactly the tallest person around.
It was a struggle but she managed. Evan shrugged the blankets from her body and dumped them in the back. She ran a hand through her hair and wordlessly followed the others as they walked towards a pile-up of cars in front of the entrance of a tunnel. It went through the cave, and Evan would be lying if she said she wasn't happy that she didn't have to go in.
"Well," Jorge spoke up, his voice echoing around them. "I guess we're on foot."
The sound of heavy breathing caught Evanna's attention and she turned to look behind her. Her gaze fell on Brenda, and on how bad she actually looked. She hadn't seen it in the back of the truck, mostly because her mind was on her own problems, but now Brenda's bloodshot eyes and chapped lips were clear as day and Evan frowned at the girl.
It was, without a doubt, because of the Crank that bit her. But that had only happened a few hours ago. Except if Evan had fainted and hadn't woken up a couple of days later, but she highly doubted that. Evan was confused as to how Brenda was already showing side-effects from the bite when she wasn't. And she had it for longer.
Timidly, Evan made her way over to Brenda. She placed a hand on the other girl's shoulder, trying to get her to look at her. Brenda's eyes were glazed as they shifted to Evan. They looked unfocused and hazy and Evan opened her mouth to call for Jorge when a gunshot stopped her.
"Get down!"
"Hide!"
She wanted to. She really wanted to. But the last time she had heard a gunshot was when she had walked away from her friend and left him to die. The last time she heard the damned noise she was trying not to choke on her sobs and pushing the images of Winston out of her head.
"Evanna!" someone hissed at her. No, not someone – Thomas. "Get down!"
Something jolted through her and she knelt down behind a car, tugging Brenda down with her. Evan knew her own eyes were wide and panicked. Her hands were shaking and she tried to hide it by stuffing them in the pockets of her sweater.
Because if she couldn't see them, surely no one else could.
Evan felt selfish for not worrying about Brenda and her odd behavior more, but her mind was a mess and her breathing was frantic because what the hell was going on? Was this another trap of Marcus? Was this WICKED shooting at them?
"Hey, is everyone okay out there?" Thomas asked as the gunshots came to a stop.
Evanna wanted to yell at him that, no, she wasn't okay. But Teresa beat her to it. "We're fine."
"Anyone know where those bloody shots came from?" Newt shouted next. His own voice sounded scared, perhaps shocked.
The gunshots started again.
"Everybody, get ready to sprint back to the truck! And hold your ears!"
Beside her, Brenda's breathing only became heavier and Evan quickly turned to her. The brunette girl looked like death. The skin around her eyes was becoming purple and her eyes were nearly rolled into the back of her head.
Evan cupped Brenda's jaw and gently shook her. "Hey, hey, Brenda?"
She didn't respond, only inhaled sharply.
"Brenda, c'mon now," Evanna tried again. Her voice had a tinge of desperation to it that she hated but she pushed it aside for now. Evan brushed Brenda's cheek and tried to get her gaze focused. "Hey, Brenda, look at me. Look at me, alright? It's okay. You're going to be okay."
She was lying through her teeth. It wasn't okay. And it certainly didn't look alright. Evan knew this and yet she lied because she refused to lose another person who had been nothing but kind to her. She refused to lose Brenda after all she had helped her and Thomas despite knowing it was foolish.
Evan had to call Jorge. She had to let him know that the girl he saw as his daughter was in a worse state than when they left Marcus and she had to do it now. But Evanna didn't know where Jorge was, and she didn't want to shout out and let whoever was shooting at them know that they were helping someone who was turning into a Crank.
Biting down on her bottom lip, Evan shook Brenda again as the girl's eyes fell shut. Her breathing was ragged, a hitch in her throat. She looked sickly pale. Evan was panicking as she muttered words to Brenda.
Her words died on her tongue when a familiar feeling pressed against the back of her head. Evan squeezed her eyes shut and let go of Brenda, her hands falling by her side. The barrel of the gun pressed into her skin harder and she flinched.
"On your feet."
⊡⊡⊡⊡
heyo, so i start school again next monday and i still haven't finished this damned fanfic so i apologize but it's probably going to take another while. i am going into my senior year so who knows what'll happen. but by god, i will finish this damn thing and i will be victorious because i started this back in 2015 and it's about time that it's over and done with.
anyway, hope you enjoyed! leave a comment and or vote if you'd like. i would really appreciate it. thanks again for sticking around and reading on even though i am horrid at updating. i love you guys.
- saz