Hidden Within

31 | last second

"What's wrong?"

Devon's gaze sears into my flesh as she studies me intently, the weight of her stare making my body feel heavy. I don't turn to face her because I am unable to meet her brown eyes. Even with the cup in my hand that is full of mind-numbing substance, I can't relax. All I can think about is the way Delaney threatened me in the hallway, leaving me on edge.

"Nothing," I chirp. I offer Devon a brief smile before I raise my drink to my lips and down a long swallow to avoid further conversation.

Though Devon continues to stare me down, she doesn't make any further remarks. Conversation and music flows around us, which makes it difficult for the two of us to hear each other, even in close proximity. We're at some party a friend of Kai's is hosting. Devon and I have taken seats on a shaggy brown couch, watching as Mason, Kai, and Clover play a heated round of beer pong. Groups mingle in circles around the room, making the enclosed space feel even tighter. I'm positive this isn't the type of scene Delaney and the girls would waste their Friday night on, which calms my nerves slightly. However, I feel uneasy at the thought of Delaney making an appearance in an attempt to catch me in a lie.

As I'm lost in thought, Devon snakes her arm around my shoulders. Her sudden and unexpected touch makes me flinch, which causes Devon to recoil from me. A hurt gleam shines brightly in her dark eyes as she frowns at me.

"Hadley," she deadpans, "what is going on?"

"Nothing," I repeat. I slide away from her. "I'm fine."

Before Devon can mumble a response, our friends join us on the couch. Kai takes the seat next to me, and Clover sits atop him. Mason sits down on the edge of the coffee table, downing the liquid within the red solo cup she grasps.

"I guess the lovebirds over here are too cool to hang out with us anymore," Mason teases through a red-lipped grin, cutting her gaze to me and Devon.

Clover rolls her eyes as Kai bursts into a round of loud, drunken laughter. Devon stiffens next to me, though she doesn't comment. My attention focuses on my phone, which has started to vibrate in my back pocket. I wordlessly rise from the couch after checking the caller ID, wandering over to a quiet corner of the room.

"Where are you?" I'm greeted with as I answer the phone.

I feel sick as I glance over my shoulder and find Devon eyeing me suspiciously. The rest of our friends seem oblivious to my cagey behavior, though Devon knows me well. She can read me like a book. I usually consider this to be a good thing, though I now view the blessing as a curse.

"I'm home," I lie, annoyed and upset all at once. "Why are you calling me?"

"Because you haven't answered any of my fucking texts," Delaney retorts bitchily.

"I'm sick." Technically, I'm telling the truth. I feel nauseous, consumed by my fear of Delaney making good on her threats. "Food poisoning, I guess. I'm just trying to rest."

Delaney is silent on her end, seemingly contemplating my excuse. "If you say so," she snips finally, giving me the benefit of the doubt.

Slowly, I begin to relax. I know Delaney isn't buying into my lie, though I'm grateful she doesn't call me out on my bullshit. "Yeah. So. What'd you want?"

"I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the mall with me. I guess I'll just ask Bianca. Feel better, or whatever."

I roll my eyes at Delaney's blatant insincerity. "Thanks. Have fun."

"I plan on it." Something about Delaney's tone turns the blood flowing through my veins to ice, leaving me on edge once again. "If you're lying Hadley, just know I will find out."

I don't have a chance to respond before Delaney hangs up. I'm left restless, with my stomach churning and my palms sweating. I bite down on my lip as I replay my conversation with Delaney in my mind, wondering if she had somehow been setting me up. I think back to our talk by my locker earlier in the week, recalling the look that had gleamed in Delaney's eyes as she had threatened to out me. I knew then that she was serious. She has it out for me, I'm certain. The two of us are caught in a game of cat and mouse. And I'm the mouse.

I return to the couch with shaky limbs, unable to concentrate enough to tune into my friends' conversation. Devon continues to stare at me unashamedly, no doubt wondering what has me so rattled. I don't have the energy to offer her an explanation. I slump low in my seat, leaning into Devon as I rest my head on her shoulder. She sets a hand on my thigh, running her thumb in soothing circles against my skin, trying her best to make me feel better even though she has no idea what's wrong.

I'm positive that anything that could possibly go wrong tonight will in fact go wrong. So I lean in closer to Devon, finding comfort in her warmth and touch. If tonight is the last night I will be able to call her mine, then I intend to enjoy every last second with her.

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a/n: i hate being cold. it's the worst feeling. sjsjsjsjs.