Promise Me ➵ Newt [3]

ELEVEN | interrogating teresa

"Yo, lovebirds, wake up," a familiar voice said through the hazy blur of sleep.

I groaned and furrowed my eyebrows in annoyance as I opened my eyes to greet the blinding light that was shining overhead. Frypan was standing over me, a grin on his face. I was lying on a bed with Newt, his arm wrapped around my waist as he snuggled into the back of my neck. He stirred when I sat up and his eyes flitted open weakly.

"What's going on?" He mumbled, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

"Thomas and Gally are back, man," Frypan said excitedly. "It's time."

"Time?" 

"Time to interrogate Teresa, duh."

I sighed. Just what I needed. Meeting the traitor, the very person who helped created the Maze alongside WICKED right after waking up from my horrific nightmares. 

"Thanks for telling us, Fry," I said, and he walked away, looking unnervinly excited about the ordeal. "Come on, Newt. Don't wanna miss this now, do we?"

"'Course not," he yawned.

I looked away, trying to hide the small smile that tugged at my lips, but Newt caught it and raised his eyebrows at me. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"You look like a dog with that bedhead," I said. "Or a puppy. It's cute."

Newt frowned at me, though there was a twinkle in his warm brown eyes as he said, "We're about to speak with the person who betrayed us to WICKED, in the middle of the Scorch surrounded by strangers who may or may not be Cranks, and you're complimenting my bedhead?"

"Shut up, just accept it the compliment, damnit," I turned away, embarrassed, and he smiled at me then in amusement. We got up and hastily pulled on our coats, then headed into the direction Frypan disappeared into, trying to shake off our sleepiness. We found our friends gathered in a wide, spacious room nearby, the lighting dim and eerie as we joined them at the back. They were already sat on rickety wooden chairs, eagerness poking through their exhausted faces as they waited for Teresa to show up.

I sat down next to Brenda, where she was playing a card game with Jorge on a mini table stand, and folded my arms across my chest. It was very early in the morning and though I tried to hide it, I was still a little miffed that I couldn't get a full night of sleep. The horrible dreams I had had of my life before the Maze didn't helped improve my mood either.

The door creaked open and in came Gally and Thomas, who dragged someone between them, a bag over their head. Judging by the string of muffled protests from the person, it must be Teresa.

They plopped her down on a chair facing us, and she grew quiet, sensing that she wasn't quite alone. As Thomas took his place next to Newt, Gally went forward and pulled the bag off her, not bothering to be gentle. 

I found myself glaring at Teresa's fearful, puzzled face, her bright blue eyes flitting back and forth from our faces, full of nervousness. When our gazes met, I didn't look away, only continued staring at her and trying to convey a message full of bitterness and anger. She looked away first.

Her eyes then shifted over to Thomas, who merely regarded her with a strange calmness, though I thought I saw a trace of anguish in his dark eyes. His face was unreadable as her gaze lingered on his for a moment longer than necessary. I wondered how he felt about the whole ordeal.

As Gally walked back to his chair, Teresa's eyes followed him and they widened as realization dawned on her.