Chapter 11

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Start A Riot - Duckwrth

TW: sexual harassment, slight instance of sexual assault ___________

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TW: sexual harassment, slight instance of sexual assault
___________

WE ENTERED LIKE STARS to the public eye—hands clutching, eyes glistening, heads empty of all conflict and anxiety. We just existed in our happy little bubble, beaming with flustered blushes and carefree smiles while our minds sizzled with the flaming memories of our heated rendezvous.

We were radiant and relaxed like we had the whole universe to ourselves and the galaxy was at our fingertips.

Yet, like those shooting stars whose sturdy courses are interrupted by our Earth rotating at the wrong time, reality came crashing down upon us and our moment of freedom and bliss was over—shriveling up amongst the atmosphere and disappearing into ash before even touching the Earth's crust.

The eyes of youthful spectators found our frames faster than the speed of light—all attention falling to the local whore and her boyfriend as Newt and I barely took three steps into the cafeteria.

Shit. I thought.

Conversations dropped to whispers, eyes flickering between their friends and me.

For a moment, I had forgotten all the unnecessary gossip and rumours—as well as the other dark memories poking through my ignorance. It was just Newt and I in our own little world, and now, I have to deal with this klunk again.

We didn't stop to acknowledge the looks or the whispers, nor did Newt's hand ever slip from mine. Instead, he squeezed my fingers tighter before leading me through the labyrinth of lunch tables, glaring ahead as if challenging anyone to interrupt our stride.

My teeth clenched within the fleshy mask of my stony façade, desperately trying to remain nonchalant as I became more and more aware of the attention. I found myself squeezing Newt's hand a little harder.

"You would think...after having the Gladers stare at me for so long that I'd be used to other people watching me." I jested to him with a forced laugh.

Newt's lip twitched upwards, but I knew he only smiled for my sake.

The Gladers were perched in the same spot we left them at, lunch trays lining the tabletops with empty pudding cups and utensils messily sprawled amongst their space. From what I could tell, they've been here since we left.

The boys chatted amongst themselves, some of them playing rock-paper-scissors to keep themselves entertained, others simply zoning out with their chins resting on their fists—Chuck being one of them, until his big, bored, brown eyes landed on us.

"Ame! Newt!" The boy beamed, "Thank god you're back, I need entertainment."

I immediately smiled. At least someone's excited to see me.

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