Tristan loved it when he was right.
By the time he and Cynthia had arrived at the square, the crowd was filled with people about Harley and Millie’s age, all of them waiting anxiously in inevitable despair. He scanned through the crowd, looking for his friends. He managed to spot Dio, Millie, and Estelle, but no Harley for some reason.
He and Cynthia ran to meet them, shoving their way through the crowd. Dionysius noticed them, and his face melted with relief. “Tris! Cynthia! There you are!”
“Sup,” He said, trying to catch his breath from the running. “Where’s Harley?”
“Library.” Millie answered, her blue eyes resisting tears. Whoever was getting Exiled must have been someone she knew personally, as well as most of her classmates. “He wants us to meet him there after the Exile.”
“And he wants us to attend this Exile why?” Cynthia asked.
“It’s part of the main reason we’re meeting him in the first place.” Dionysius answered. “Right?”
Millie nodded. “It’s starting, guys. Pay attention.”
They turned to face the center, and soon enough, the police came, dragging a girl with them.
She looked to be 17, the same age as most of the people in the crowd. She had long red hair, and wore a black hoodie with jeans. She was sobbing with rage, frantically trying to break from her restraints.
She tore her arm away from the officers and pointed at a boy in the crowd who looked about her age. “You! You betrayed me!”
The boy didn’t respond. Whether he was too scared or simply couldn’t hear her, Tristan didn’t know
The girl’s voice was ravaged and sore. “You promised!” She screamed. “You promised, Blake!”
Blake. Why did he recognize the name?
It appeared he wasn’t the only one. At the mention of the name, half of the crowd erupted into angry screaming, most of it directed toward Blake. The boy was unresponsive.
The police had restrained the girl fully this time, shoving the screaming girl into the elevator-like box in the center of the square. They shut the door, but the girl continued screaming, crying about betrayal and trust and Blake.
And with the push of a button, the elevator went up, sending the girl aboveground to die.
For a while, the entire square was silent.
Then chaos reigned.
A group of crowd members all ran toward Blake, all of them yelling and screaming at him, bloodthirst evident on their faces.
But before things could get ugly, Millie looked at Tris and the others, her face soaked with tears. “Library. Now.”
They ran as fast as they could.
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When they arrived at the library, Harley was there, sitting at a desk in the very back of the History shelf. Tristan half expected him to greet them when his face froze with concern. “Dio, what happened?”
Tristan turned around, and he could see why Harley was worried. Somewhere along the way, Dionysius had tripped and fell flat on his face, causing a very messy nosebleed.
“Nothing.” Dionysius insisted. “Nothing, I’m—“
“I’ll take care of it.” Tristan placed a hand on Dio’s shoulder. His boyfriend nodded with silent gratitude.
Harley looked toward Millie. “Did you find out who?”
She nodded, suppressing a sob. “Harley, I’m sorry.”
“Just tell me their name.”
“It’s Blake, Harley.”
There was silence for what felt like ages. Harley’s expression shifted from emotion to emotion. Finally, he spoke. “I—“
“I know.” Millie took his hand. “I don’t know why. I don’t know how. I just know it was him.”
“But I…I told—“
“I’m so sorry, Harley.”
Estelle crossed her arms. “Sorry to ruin all your lovey-dovey crap, but can someone explain to me why we’re here?”
“Estelle!” Cynthia chided.
Harley looked at the group, his expression weary. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” His eyes locked with Tristan’s. “Take care of Dio first, though.”
“Sure thing.” Tristan responded, leading Dionysius to the bathroom. “Alright, Bloody Mary. Out we go.”
“Don’t call me that.” Dionysius grumbled.
Tristan smiled. Even after face-planting into cement, his boyfriend still hated his stupid nicknames.
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