Sins of Aiden

11

CHAPTER 11

"You walked?"

"Mhm."

"All the way back from Luke Ridgeway's house?"

"Yeah."

"That's like an hour and a half walk."

"Mm."

"Mia, you hate walking," Madelyn snorts, causing me to shift my gaze to her.

I tug a little too hard on my golden hoop.

Madelyn has propped her elbows on top of the table, narrowed eyes staring down at me, scrutinizing my every move.

I force my fingers away from my hoop, face flushed and I let my eyes fall to the food in front of me. "W-Well, I couldn't find you so. . ."

I let the rest fall to Madelyn's imagination. I can't look at her and lie at the same time. She will see right through me.

Madelyn hums in disbelief, snacking on a grape with eyes that drip with suspicion all over me.

I'm on very thin ice right now.

Madelyn has yet to believe me when I told my story of what happened last week at Luke Ridgeway's welcome-back party. The story I've gone with so far was after I left her to go find the bathroom and how extremely difficult it had been to find one considering Luke's house has been a maze (which isn't a total lie) and then when I finally, after a much long attempt, scored my goal. But then an explosion was heard and through all the fleeing crowd and the chaos that brought with it, I couldn't find Madelyn or her friends so I had to go my own way to escape the upcoming cops. And that's why I had to walk. . . for an hour and a half to get home.

Which I absolutely had done. Not stumbling across Aiden and watching him fight someone and almost being kidnap by some random and then Aiden rescuing me and then the explosion happened and how Aiden covered his whole body to save me. . . again and then how we ran together. . . hand in hand. . . and Aiden carrying me. . . and being inside his car and—gosh. Madelyn would kill me and him and then herself if she ever found out.

"Didn't you get my texts?"

"Yes, but I first saw them when I got home," I answer, picking on my food. My senses fluttering at the thoughts.

It's been days since the Saturday fiasco and Madelyn still asks me the same questions. She can definitely sense something else happened. Madelyn had sent dusins of text messages that day and I could have sworn my eyes almost popped out from my sockets when I finally left Aiden's car and how much trouble I could have gotten myself into if I didn't come up with this half-hearted lie.

Still, she won't let this go. "But when you said-"

"How was your day, that day?" I ask, cutting her off.

She has frozen in her seat, a grape stuck in the air on its way to her mouth.

She sighs and shifts her eyes from mine. "I had the worst kind of night at the party," Madelyn places two fingers on her temple, like to release the the tension of merely recalling it.

I frown. "What happened?"

"Well, if it wasn't for that bitch—I would have had a lovely time," Madelyn's scolding turns into a sarcastic tone.

"What do you mean?"

Madelyn rolls her eyes at me. "You don't want to know," she grunts through her hand as she stabs a grape with her fork and shoves it into her mouth.