10 - Star

                                    

                                          
"What do those friends of yours look like?" Cyra wondered after walking for a while.
"Why?"
"Just wondering." She shrugged. "So, what do they look like?"
"Uhm, Minho has black hair that's always styled with much gel, strong arms, and is Asian," I explained. "Then there's Newt. He's blonde, definitely taller than Rye, kind of a baby face, and he's British."
"So Newt and Minho." Cyra nodded. "And this Thomas kid?"
"Same height as Minho, brown hair, some moles, always wears a blue t-shirt, and asks a lot of questions." I paused. "And there's Frypan-."
"Frypan?" They asked in unison.
"Don't insult Frypan," I ordered. "He's dark-skinned, very kind looking because he is, and short buzzed hair. Winston. His hair is dark and longer than Fry's, and has a recognizable face."
I almost chuckled at the fact I knew exactly how to describe Minho and Newt, but it was harder to describe Winston, using the right words. Yet the dark feeling was still there.. the hands, but I hid it.
"There was another boy with them but I didn't know him. The girl is named Teresa, very pretty, with bright eyes, dark hair, and some freckles." I summarized. "That was it." 
~
"This is so boring," Rye whined as Cyra walked a few feet away from us again. "Can you tell me some things that happened in that maze of yours?"
I sighed, trying hard to remember something funny. A good memory. "A friend and I once changed Newt's shampoo with animal piss and klunk."
It hurt to pronounce Chuck's name, so I didn't. I wasn't ready yet.
He laughed out loud. "But what's 'Klunk', though?"
"Means shit or crap." I shrugged. "We have all types of words."
"What else happened?" Rye wondered. 
"I rolled over the ground with Minho," I admitted. "He bickered a lot with others, which was quite funny."
"Seems cool." He commented.
I scoffed. "Sometimes, yeah, but being there was horrible." 
"Why then?" 
"You should really meet Thomas sometime," I replied, ignoring his question.
"Twisting around the questions again, huh?" Rye raised his eyebrows. "But it's okay. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to tell." 
I shook my head. "No, I'll tell you some things." I paused. "So I was a spy-."
"Now that's straight to the point." Rye interrupted, seeming a little impressed. 
"Yeah." I chuckled lightly, but fake. "Got these tasks I needed to complete and if I didn't, there would be consequences."
His face darkened. "That's awful."
"It is." I shrugged. "But it's over now." Quickly I sped up my pace and tried to hide the tears in my eyes, which I wondered why even started to form. I only spoke one single sentence about the spy thing and immediately cried again!
"I don't think you should let go of it that easily." Rye jogged after me. "I mean, it's nice to forget everything that happened, but it's not good if you go around keeping all this in you and not talking about it."
"I used to do that with Minho and Newt." I snapped, getting upset. "And you're kind of bugging me to open up to you now."
Rye sniffed. "I didn't mean it like that. But I'm saying you could talk to me or Cyra, though she doesn't give the best advice, but you look quite upset."