Chapter Eight

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Blood in the Cut by K.Flay 

~I've managed to get my dad to watch Godless which is a Netflix series with TBS and it's incredible so I highly recommend it if you like western type dramas. 

Newt's POV

Minho's house is swarmed with people-mostly strangers and people I never talk to. I hold a plastic cup of water in my hand, feeling the coolness in my palms, stopping me from sweating. I don't trust the drinks people have made because they're probably spiked with God knows what. Alcohol is foul so I don't lay a finger on it.

I stand to the side of the living room, leaning against a doorframe, watching people lose themselves to the music and drinks. I look awkward when I dance. I can't steady myself to the beat or let myself be self-conscious free. 

There are couples kissing in the corner and, occasionally, sneaking off upstairs to a dark, empty bedroom. I spot Thomas, Teresa, Brenda and Frypan dancing in the centre of the crowd, not caring who's watching.

I wish I could be like them.

Teresa has only had a few drinks tonight so she won't be even slightly tipsy. She's far from a light weight. 

There's a pang of jealousy in my gut as I watch her and Thomas get closer. Their body's collide within seconds. Teresa fiddles with Thomas's shirt, lifting it up to reveal perfect skin unknown in this light. Her hands glide up his back and his cups her face. 

Their rough kissing is enough to make me look away. I can't stand their love for each other. They're pretty much cliché's. No doubt about that. 

As I force myself to pull my gaze from the floor and look up, I notice they're gone. Their clumsy steps lead them up the staircase and far away from the sweaty, drunken bodies in the room. I hate observing every move, I'm like a stalker.

"You okay?" There's a loud yell in my ear. There must be a shocked expression on my face because when I look up, Minho immediately apologises.

"I'm fine, probably deaf now, though," I laugh it off.

"You don't look like you're having fun. My party isn't good enough for you?" Minho jokes, knowing I'm not a fan of social occasions. "You came here to escape, didn't you?"

I shy nod is my only body movement, "I drove Thomas here, now he's buggered  off with Teresa."

"You're the one sitting at the side. In all fairness, I'm sure he'd rather be with you than her."

I choke on my drink, "What?"

Minho's eyes widen. There's a look of oh shit on his face, "I didn't say anything."

"You clearly did, Minho, why would you lie to me like that?" I feel betrayed listening to his false words.

"Who ever said I was lying?" Bullshit.

"I know you are. Thomas loves Teresa and I know he would rather be ripping off her clothes than standing with me and talking."

"You keep telling yourself that. If anything, he'll be picturing you underneath him instead of Teresa." 

"Minho, please be serious."

"I am, Newt," the tone in Minho's voice suggests he is being honest. "You can't see it, but he likes you. Both of you think we're too blind to see the way you look at each other -like it's all you have. We're not stupid, we know you like him too, and you have for a long time. Too long, actually. Thomas has been your best friend since kindergarten and he's the one who's never left your side or spoken badly about you, no matter what. What you're feeling is love. It's true and pure and you shouldn't be afraid of it. You need to open your heart because he's trying to convince himself he loves Teresa and not you."

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