67: I'm Consuming and I'm Consuming

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Michelle 67

I can't believe they shucking locked me up again. At least this time it was only a warning.

At least, this time, they let me out the next day, so long as I promised not to tell anybody about being locked up. Like I've got anybody to shucking tell. At least Alby was cool about the whole thing, he told me he knows we are probably shacking, but he doesn't have a shuck to give until he has proof. So as long as no one gives him proof, I think we are good.

Not that there is proof to give.

Besides, I've learned my lesson. They punished me well enough just by locking me in there with nothing but my thoughts. I don't need to ruin my day further by talking about my feelings. What do they even think this is?

I also have been avoiding Gally. Not showing up for work, and just hanging around proves easy enough. No one has come looking for me yet. I don't know how to go back. I don't know how to tell him I don't like him, or how to tell him that they didn't hear anything about Ben. I'm not telling him about Ben, I don't think. Maybe I should've trusted David more.

Dinner is over, and as I dump my plate in the kitchen sink, I see Leo in line. I walk up to her, sure and steady, pulling her away from her conversation with one of those Med-jacks I choose to forget the name of.

"Hey," she offers carefully, staring me down. I'm not sure what I am doing, or how to ask her what I'm trying to ask her, since I'm not good at this emotion stuff. "Are you good?"

"Dawn," I jump in, cutting her off. I think I can trust her at this point. "Where is she?"

Leo shrugs, looking around as if the girl would just happen to be hanging out just behind me. I don't know why I'm looking for Dawn; I mean, I guess I know her slightly better, but she doesn't have good decision making.

She, for some reason, thinks Minho of all people is good-looking. Definitely don't trust her.

"Is it about Gally?" Leo offers.

I rip her out of the room, moving further away from the prying ears of the Gladers around us. How can she read me so well? I hate it, completely.

Once we are practically tucked against the Wall and the soon to be shutting Doors, she continues. "I would've gotten you out, but nobody told me. And then I fainted..." her embarrassment takes over, and I can't help my eyeroll.

Of course, she fainted. It's Leo.

I avert my eyes from her soft, and pleading face. She looks at me with concern that makes me feel both like a child but also valued.

"Hey, if he did what Ben did-"

"He didn't." My eyes snap up to hers, and she shuts her mouth.

We must look so odd, standing this close to each other. The meek and fearful brunette, and the angry and violent ginger. We fit out stereotypes slightly too well, and it is odd to see our rolls reversing.

"He did try to kiss you."

I kissed him first. "It's a long story. I've shucked it up."

She pauses, listening to me. It's weird. I hate this feeling. This way that she cares for me; it just makes me feel like klunk for hating her for so long. Especially when she's been behind me in every corner. David was right. I hate that.

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