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Ava placed all of her weightonto the stick, pushing her boot clad foot harder and harder until the wood snapped in half. Satisfied with the pieces, she picked them up and threw them into her growing pile. Although she already collected sticks with Wells earlier, she became bored rather quickly; sitting around in camp doing nothing all day gets old fast.
Movement by her side alerted her. The girl tensed up, pausing nervously, before spinning around. Stick in her grasp, she swung and flailed it at whoever or whatever was behind her.
"Hey! Ava, cut it out!"
She ceased her frantic movements, huffing out a long sigh that blew stray strands of hair away from her pink-tinted face. "Murphy!" she yelled in exasperation. "I could've killed you!"
His hands dropped to his sides, face blank and voice monotone. "Apparently."
Ava dropped the stick and crossed her arms against her heaving chest as she gazed at the boy in front of her. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as he stared back expectantly. "Well? What do you want?"
Murphy placed his hands on his hips as he stared down at the ground. His tongue darted out to lick his lips in a nervous manner before glancing back up at the brunette across from him. "Do I really kiss Bellamy's ass?"
Ava's head jerked back in surprise. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and her lips parted slightly. She took a few moments to register what he'd said before letting a giggle slip between her lips. Of all questions, he asked this? "Well, that's what I said, isn't it?"
"Uh, yeah," he replied, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "I just don't think it's true."
"Then why are you asking me if you don't think it's true?" Ava retorted. Her eyebrow raised sardonically as he opened and closed his mouth like an out-of-water fish gasping for air.
"I just—"
"Are you gay, Murphy?"
His head shot up in surprise, his eyes wide and his face contorted in shock. He resembled a deer caught in the headlights. "What? I — no!"
Ava smirked victoriously before chuckling at his persistence to assure that he was straight. After listening to him tumble over his words and babble on continuously, she shushed him up by dropping a pile of the sticks she had gathered in his hands. "Stop talking and carry these."
Murphy looked surprised for a split second before his dark eyes narrowed into harsh slits. His lips pursed into a thin line, his agitation not well hidden.
"Please?" Ava added. When his face remained at an unwavering stare, she tugged her lips upward into a bright smile.
Murphy sighed in defeat. Ava took this as him giving in and beamed at her astounding success.
"Can we get going before I change my mind?" Murphy asked impatiently, his voice drenched in vexation and his lips pulled in a sneer.
But his eyes didn't show the same.
...
It was their first night on earth. The sun had set, leaving nothing but a black sky dotted with stars. The burning fire warmed Ava, the flames tickling her skin.
"Who's next?" Bellamy Blake called out into the crowd.
Ava raised an eyebrow from her spot on the ground. "What kind of cult meeting is this?"
Glancing down at her, Bellamy narrowed his eyes. He scrutinized her head-to-toe, a ghost of a smirk gracing his lips.
She stared back fleetingly before turning her attention to the real show. She watched as Murphy pried off people's wristbands, cheering along with the others once they were free of the harsh metal. He chucked wristband after wristband into the blazing fire, the pile growing as more and more people lined up. She gazed intensely at the boy as he smirked, evidently taking pride in what he was doing.
Loud, bellowing voices rose through the air. Ava tore her focus away from Murphy, and instead focused on Wells and Bellamy, who seemed to be having a heating argument.
"The communication systems are dead," stated Wells, a tone of authority evident in his voice, something he clearly learned from his father. "These wristbands are all we've got. Take them off and the Ark will think we're dying — that it's not safe for them to follow."
"That's the point, Chancellor," Bellamy retorted, taunting him with his smug smirk. "We can take care of ourselves," he said, his question directed to the attentive crowd. "Can't we?"
The onlookers bellowed out loud 'Yeah''s. Wells gritted his teeth in frustration — frustration at the control-freak known as Bellamy Blake, and frustration at the people for agreeing to his silly and ignorant ways.
"Think this is a game?" he asked. "Those aren't just our friends and our parents up there. They're our farmers, our doctors, our engineers. I don't care what he tells you. We won't survive on our own." Wells said before turning around to face Bellamy, a look of disbelief struck across his face. "And besides, if it really is safe, how could you not want the rest of our people to come down?"
"My people are already down. Those people locked my people up." Bellamy said, his voice suddenly reaching a lower octave, sounding dangerous. "Those people killed my mother for the crime of having a second child. Your father did that."
"My father didn't make the laws."
"No, he enforced them. But not anymore. Not here," Bellamy said, shaking his head. "Here, there are no laws."
The people began to voice their agreements, boosting Bellamy's confidence in his words and making him feel like he had immense power. "Here, we do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want."
"Now, you don't have to like it, Wells. You can even try to stop it, change it — kill me. Ya know why?"
The smirk on Bellamy's face widened significantly, turning into a smug smile. "Whatever the hell we want."
"Whatever the hell we want!" Murphy repeated, throwing his fist into the air. Soon, everyone was following their lead, chanting and yelling the phrase until Ava felt like her ears were bleeding. Wells gazed at the scene in horror, appalled by how everyone was handling the situation.
Suddenly, a splash of water hit the top of Ava's nose. Then, another and another. She whipped her head back and forth, up and down, curiosity clouding her thoughts.
"Check it out! It's raining!" someone within the crowd announced excitedly.
