how to make a mixtape :: mgc (fin.)

21. trust & blueberry lip balm

im so happy this picture ^^^ matches with scout and michael bc scout is played by halsey and has pink hair and michael has red hair in this era so thIS IS AWESOME

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"The treehouse," Ashton breathes, "does Michael know about the treehouse?"

My heart hammers against my ribs, clenching my chest and twisting around. Something at the back of my mind gnaws, telling me he's bluffing. But he isn't. He's Ashton. Ashton never bluffs.

"No." I draw a tight knot around my thumb with the hem of my skirt. I feel it bruising over, pressing into my skin. Perhaps if I do it long enough, the pain will block out my ears. Not that it'd help, anyway. I'll just be more vulnerable -- I'll be better off on the floor with shackles on my wrists. I'll be better off submissive to Ashton while he drags Michael over by the sleeves and tells him everything, everything in harsh detail and all the secrets and unfaithfulness. I bite my bottom lip, letting my gaze flicker to his. His hazel eyes are dark and cold, capturing mine in one swift gesture. "No. And you're not going to be the one to inform him."

"You sure about that?" He puts his hands in his denim pockets, shrugging his shoulders indecisively. "You did give me away to someone who, to your knowledge, was going to murder me."

"That was my brother," I say through gritted teeth. I hear Michael approach behind me and put a hand around my waist.

"Same tree, different bastard." Ashton smiles, his eyes narrowed and bottom lip sliding uncommitedly between hid front teeth.

"And can I ask what the problem is?" Michael rolls in. Alina is already pushing Mara out through the exit, and it takes me a lot to not ask them to let me follow. I can't move my hand up to stroke Michael's fingers, but I really, really need to. When I look up, his lips are curled back into a snarl. "There's a police officer right behind me who I won't be afraid to get involved it you touch Maricruz."

"Oh, I'm not gonna touch her." Ashton grins again and my stomach drops. "I touched her enough over the past two years -- didn't I, Mari?" He takes my chin in his long fingers and tilts my head up. His gaze is locked with Michael's.

"Keep your hands off her." Michael tugs me away. "Stop being so envious of a happy relationship that you're lying to ruin it."

"He isn't lying," I murmur. It exhausts all the air from my lungs, and they both look at me. I feel like vomitting everywhere. "Me and Ashton hooked up a few times since 2012."

Michael's silent for a few seconds, but Ashton laughs triumphantly.

He finally speaks, soft and hurt like a kicked kitten. "Past is past. Your sexual history isn't my business."

I exhale, finding his hand and squeezing it between my fingers. He doesn't respond.

Ashton's grin hasn't worn off, but I hope it does.

"Did I mention?" Ashton adds. "She's illegal. An illegal immigrant." He leans close so Officer Chapman can't hear.

Michael freezes, and his hand goes dead in my grip. He snatches it away, playing with the sleeves of his denim jacket. He stares at me with an icy gaze, the warmth of them gone, all the embraces and brushing of lips we shared flashing behind his eyes - gone.

"Is that true?" Michael asks gently. I shrink back, rubbing the toe of my shoe against the linoleum. My throat is too dry to answer. I hear the hum of the café kitchen beside me and the clicks of Michael's boots as he backs away. "Is that true? Are you illegal?"

I bite my bottom lip, glancing at Officer Chapman. He's hunched over, writing something in his notebook.

"Can we do this outside?" I say, not meeting his incredulous glare.