The days dragged on, each one dragging down my happiness with it. Newt was getting more and more distant with every passing day. Whatever he'd "thought" about at the picnic had to be something as bad as the look in his eyes-it sure made me feel that bad. Today was the worst-he hadn't said a word to me.
I worked as a Track-Hoe now, in the fields, every day. It was rather boring, but singing always kept my spirits up. Newt would show up sometimes, never speaking a word to me but never letting his eyes leave me either. It confused me, and yet I was getting so used to it I didn't even blush anymore.
What did I do wrong? I wonder for the billionth time that week as his brown orbs follow my every move.
He'd been talking to Minho a lot too-it started with a single quiet conversation, but now every time I looked at him he was upset and pouring his heart out to the Runner.
Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he talk to me? Did he not trust me?
I realize that my thoughts are consuming me, and I'm just sitting, staring at the dirt. I glance up at Newt. He's watching me with a look of concern on his face, but when he sees that I'm looking back at him he turns away without a word.
Concern...as if he cares, I think hopelessly. I get back to work for another hour and then suddenly find Thomas at my side.
"Kelly, you've been working all day. It's almost three o'clock-don't you need to eat something?"
I sigh, realizing how hungry I am, and get up. Thomas studies me.
"Okay, I may not know a lot about girls, but I can tell something's up. Spill."
I laugh, but it's more of a saddened scoff. "You wouldn't understand."
"How do you know?"
I sigh, not responding.
"You won't know unless you tell me," he says gently.
"Thomas," I say, tears rising in the back of my throat. "I can't tell you. And anyway, it's stupid."
"It can't be stupid if it's making you this upset. Kelly, you can tell me anything. You can trust me to keep your secret, or whatever, I promise."
His words remind me of Newt, and I break down. I can't take it anymore.
Thomas wraps me in a hug as I cry into his shoulder. I feel weak, slightly embarrassed that I'd cry at something as simple as this, but I accept the hug. I'm grateful to have someone, someone who's here for me, someone who's acting like a friend.
"Who?" Thomas pleads. "Who did this to you?"
"Thomas, I told you, you won't understand. The-they didn't even do anything wrong!"
Thomas looks at me, pain in his eyes.
"Thomas..."
I had to tell him. There was no one to stop me now.
"It was Newt."