𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 - 𝘚𝘊𝘖𝘙𝘊𝘏 𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘚

24 ~ 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙

Lottie

No one told me that being in love was this confusing.

Then again, no one told me what being in love would be like at all. Maybe this was all normal; who knows. All I knew was that I hated it. I hated how rude Newt had been these past few days.

The worst part was that I was worried about him. He looked sickly, with bloodshot eyes and eyebags so dark that it looked like he had gotten punched. I noticed him rubbing his arm and wincing. He would bare his teeth out of nowhere, face pulled into a snarl. He curled his hands into fists. He would scratch at his skin until it became so dry it bled. His actions were almost... animalistic.

The others could tell, too. I think they were becoming scared of him.

One day, he was being quiet, as usual. Jorge was talking to the others about something; I didn't know what it was, I wasn't paying attention. Instead, I was watching Newt trace a pattern in the table. Suddenly, he looked up and opened his mouth to interrupt Jorge.

"Is there a place that Cranks go before they go crazy?" He asked. I raised my eyebrows at him in question, but he wouldn't even look at me.

Jorge looked uneasy at being spoken to by Newt. I recognized the look; it was the look everyone had been giving him these past few days. "There is," Jorge replied. "They call it the Crank Palace. It's near Denver, about 400 miles from here."

"Five hundred..." Newt repeated.

"May I ask why?" Jorge questioned.

Newt just shrugged and went back to ignoring the world. My chest felt heavy as I watched him. I couldn't help but think he needed me. He needed my help; he just was refusing to let me give it. What more could I do?

I was beginning to lose sleep as well. I spent my nights tossing and turning, thinking about what could possibly be wrong with Newt. Not to mention the day of the raid coming closer and closer.

One cold night, I decided to try one last thing to make him tolerable. I shuffled over to his bed, where he was on his back looking at the ceiling, and cleared my throat. He looked over at me, and for a split second, I saw the flicker of light in his eyes that he had every time he looked at me. I loved that flicker of light. It showed me that he was being genuine.

It was gone as quickly as it had come.

"Can I please sleep with you tonight? I'm cold." I held my breath, waiting for his response.

Newt looked at me blankly before bringing his arms up behind his head, sighing as if I was a burden, and returning his gaze to the ceiling. My spirits fell.

"I'm not," Newt replied coldly. And at that moment, I was done. I was done trying with him. If he wanted to be that way, fine. But before I left, I just had to let him know why.

"Look, I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but I hate it," I began, wincing at the tremble that had already begun to creep into my voice. "You've been very mean to me. To all of us. I don't think that's fair. I'm not going to tolerate it. So until you get yourself together... Stay away from me."

I released a quick breath. There. I said it. Now I couldn't stand looking at that face anymore. That beautiful face, that was once so warm but was now icy. I whirled away from Newt and threw myself onto my cot, burying myself in my blankets before I allowed a single squeak of a sob to escape my mouth.

I refused to believe that Newt knew how awful he was being, or choosing to be that way. There must be something causing him to be like this. I thought back to when this all started. It was the day after the Crank attack. I just assumed it was because he had to watch Alex die. But... Cranks were aggressive creatures, were they not? And turning into one meant that you too became aggressive.

I took a deep breath. Okay. Say Newt did get bitten that night. What would he do? Certainly not tell us, which was the logical thing to do. He was far too secretive for that. He would probably hide it until he absolutely couldn't anymore. Until he ended up hurting somebody.

Wait. No. He wouldn't even risk hurting somebody; he would have to do something before that happened, too. But what? What would he think to do? I tried to put myself in Newt's shoes. If there was a chance I could hurt my friends unwillingly, then I would put myself in a position where I couldn't. I would lock myself up... but there wasn't anywhere to do that.

Then I would just... leave. But he wouldn't... would he? Surely he would know how heartbreaking that would be for all of us. Under no scenario would we not be upset if he left, unless he continued being so horrible that we continued to hate him. Besides, if he kept this up, we would.

I suddenly sat straight up in bed, struck by an awful thought. I knew what he was doing, and believe me, was I not going to let him get away with it.

I snatched up my flashlight from my bedside table, switched it on, and aimed it towards Newt's bed. To my relief, he was still there, asleep. Asleep is how I liked him most these days, but he wasn't going to be for long if I kept shining the flashlight on him. Already he was beginning to stir. I switched the light off and laid back down, reassured.

Don't be stupid, Lottie, I scolded myself. Why would he ever do something as awful as leave?

The next morning, I woke to a shoe being flung at my face. "Wha-"

"Get up," Minho snapped, lifting the shoe for another blow. I lifted a hand to block my face.

"What the shuck is your problem?" I grumbled.

"My problem is that your absolute slinthead of a boyfriend is gone and we have no idea where he is. We've searched everywhere."

At this, I sat upright. My fear from last night slowly began to trickle back. I leapt out of bed to inspect Newt's cot. His sheets were thrown back, and his shoes were gone. I noticed that he had taken his flashlight, so he must have left when it was still dark.

"Did you check the dining tent?"

"Yes."

"Sonya's tent?"

"Yes."

"The Bergs?"

"We've searched everywhere, Lottie! Even that little outcropping you guys love going to. He's not here anymore," Minho said, exasperated.

The fear was fully there now. What if he really was gone? What would we do? "Well... then we search the surrounding area," I said, reaching for my jacket and shrugging it on. Then I shoved my feet into my boots, and hesitated at the crinkle noise that came from it when I did.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I took my boots back off and reached inside the left one. I pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. I exchanged a confused look with Minho and the rest of my friends in the tent before unfolding the piece of paper.

There was writing on it. I froze, because I knew that handwriting. It was Newt's handwriting. And he would only write me a letter if he couldn't tell me in person. Which meant that he wasn't here to tell me in person.

My hands began to shake, so much that I dropped the letter. I looked down at it with wide eyes. Minho scoffed. "Well? What is it?" He bent down to see it for himself. "Er... this isn't for me," he said awkwardly, handing the letter back to me. I sat on my cot and numbly began to read. When I finished, I was crying, and was furious about it. I despised crying in front of people. However, I did know that one thing was for sure.

Newt had left us. He had left me. 

A/N

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- 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭