Someone Worth Lying For

2) Harmonicas and Friendship Circles

"Let's just pretend these aren't here. We can figure them out later,"I suggested, but I also didn't want to think about the fact that my subject name, whatever it's for, isn't the same as my friends. They thankfully agreed as they left the topic alone.

The second we walked in the room and everyone started asking a million questions. I just let them talk, feeling more and more unnerved each second I was here. I don't know a lot, but one thing is crystal clear. Things can only get weirder, and that's saying something.

• • • • •

We had figured out that there was basically no way out. For now, maybe even forever, we were all stuck here.

"Fan-shucking-tastic. We finally got some peace, and now we get to start our panic all over again,"Minho stated.

"Ah yes. I could be in the Glade terrorizing you shanks with . . . someone,"I trailed off, not wanting to say Chuck's name. Especially, since we had been so close. Despite the obvious age difference we had a lot in common. We both loved joking around, we didn't know what to do in serious situations, and we annoyed the others to no end.

It didn't really matter that I didn't say his name though. It still hurts to think about, and the others clearly felt the same. Plus, we all still knew who I was talking about. Even Thomas had an idea because Gally was Chuck and his victim when he was still a Greenie. He used to be my favorite person to mess with.

It's obviously different because I don't even care if he couldn't control what he was doing. I want him dead. If I ever see Gally he'd wish that he died with the Griever's.

For now, I'll put him out of my mind. I just want to keep my good memories of Chuck. I'd rather have those than the image of the knife in his chest. Him laughing and running around with me when nobody's looking means so much more.

Deciding I didn't want to think about it anymore I did the only right thing in that moment.

"Well, we may as well play some music,"I sighed. Before anyone could ask what I meant I pulled out a harmonica and kicked my feet against the wall. Now I was in what probably looked like the worst position but was actually pretty comfy. Just me, with my feet up, staring at the ugly ceiling, and playing a great, rusty, harmonica.

"Where did you get a harmonica? Why do you even have a harmonica?"Newt asked.

"Oh mother of the Glade. Don't fret. Just sit back and enjoy my song,"I responded before playing some random melody. It was probably something a cowboy would appreciate. Even though I've never seen one I'm so great that I'm sure of it.

"Can you please stop playing the harmonica?"Newt begged. I pretended not to hear. "Please,"He repeated.

Since I as getting bored anyway I figured I may as well respond.

"I can play a different song. How about one called 'we're all going to die, we're trapped in this hell, life is terrible, and Newt is ruining the already terrible mood by not letting me play my song'. I made it myself."

"Just play your stupid song,"He sighed.

"No,"I argued.

"No? Y/N, what do you mean no?"He asked in disbelief.

"You told me what to do. There's no fun in playing it if you want me to,"I explained, tossing it in the air.

"Why do you act like this?"

"I'm sorry. I'm creating such a huge mess right now,"I deadpanned.

"Why can't you be serious about this?"He asked, sounding like he was going to lecture me. It's too bad I was not allowing that to happen.