Wastelands → Newt [Movie Trilogy]

26 → "OLD FRIEND"

It wasn't a long drive to the walls of the city, but during the drive, Adeline was tempted to roll up the sleeve of her pant leg. The end of it was ripped and frayed due to the Crank, who'd dug its nails into her skin. Adeline knew it had broken skin, causing her leg bleed. But, she couldn't roll her pant leg up and look, because she knew Newt would be more than concerned, and the last thing she wanted was for him to worry about something else than that of rescuing his best friend.

If there is something to worry about with me.

But, she continued to worry. She stared down at her leg, and Frypan had noticed that she was, too. He threw her a look, something that meant he was curious as to why she was staring at it like she was. Then, Frypan looked away, and soon enough Newt had turned to talk to Thomas, both boys a lot closer than she last remembered. But, then again, she'd been gone from them for six months, so relationships could have changed or formed since then.

Meanwhile Brenda had her eyes trained ahead like Jorge did, and that's when Adeline moved her pant leg up somewhat. Quickly, she rolled it up, and she felt tears prick at her eyes at what she found. A nasty, deep scratch, similar to where Brenda had once been infected all those months ago. Mentally cursing, she dropped the fabric of her pant leg without another glance, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Adeline?" This came from Brenda, who was staring at her from the rearview mirror. "Are you ... crying?"

At that, everyone's eyes darted to the girl, who was scolding herself for tearing up. She couldn't tell them yet about the scratch, but knew she'd have to. Not right now, at least. Maybe later she could show Newt, or even talk to Brenda about it.

Not now.

"I'm fine." She lied, shifting slightly. The five of them didnt seem to be all that convinced by that.

"Are you sure?" Brenda questioned.

"Yeah. I'm fine, don't worry." Adeline reassured. But Newt, knowing that she was lying just like she had been back at their hideout at the docks last night, wasn't convinced. When the rest of them turned away, he scooted closer to her and wrapped his arms around her, but he didnt say anything. He just held her. He held her, without questioning what was wrong.

Maybe he assumed it was because of Minho. Because of the last six months. And so she let him think that, even if she shouldn't have; that she should've told them. But, she couldn't tell them about the scratch. Not until she wrapped her head around the truth first. The truth that she was scratched. The truth that she could probably be infected. She had heard from scientists that the virus was developing, that it had manifested enough in time. That it'd become airborne now, too. Maybe it could take over and affect immunes now. Until the signs showed, if they do show, she will be left wondering if she has been.