Get Out If You Can

Diego | Catfish And Dine

"Where are you?" Hunter asks, gesturing to Matt.

"Huh?"

"Where," he says, pointing at the picture in the album, that most definitely is of Matt, "are you."

"Oh," Matt says, staring at the picture, a tiny hint of recognition in his eyes. He knows where the picture was taken, probably. It's always in the eyes.

"Spit it out, come on," Emilie says, stretching her legs and glancing at the white watch on her thin wrist. I didn't know it was possible to be that skinny, but then again, that isn't very useful knowledge.

"I'm starving," Emilie continues. "You guys got anything to – "

"Food may be found in the dining hall."

I'm completely taken by surprise. I turn around, scanning the room hastily, looking for some sign of a speaker – the voice sounded like it was coming from right behind me – but I'm as lucky as you would be if you were out searching for unicorns.

"What was that?" Alison says, getting up. She shouldn't have. I know she's trying to act all normal, like, I'm-not-that-injured type, but she can't hide the fact that her face completely betrays her. Her ankle's hurting like hell, I know that. I should probably help her.

But like the dick I am, I choose not to. We aren't yet on speaking terms, and it's foolish, but I'd rather not talk to anyone about what she thinks happened to Enrique. Because it's all utter bullshit. Most probably, that is.

"The voice," Hunter says, taking her hand and pulling her down. "Don't act all mighty, I know standing up hurts."

She sits down, but her eyes continue to dart around the place.

"The voice heard us, right?" Matt says, not even pretending to act worried. His hair's flopped down on his forehead, obscuring his eyes, and he looks like he's already accepted whatever's planned for us.

I wish I could imitate that. I wish I knew how to accept things – like that. Insouciantly.

"It did," Emilie answers. "Weird."

"Creepy," I say. "Which asshole would be tracking our every movement, every word? And why the hell were we supposed to play that piano piece?"

"No clue," Emilie says. "Listening pleasure, maybe?"

"Isn't it pleasurable enough watching us here in this hellhole?" Alison says, and I want to hug her so bad, but hey, no.

Emilie shrugs. "Should we go to the, um, dining hall?"

"You crazy?" Hunter says, his eyes widening. "I'm actually very interested in living, thank you."

"She asked if we should check it out, not necessarily eat anything," Matt says, rolling his eyes. "And you're going to kick the bucket anytime now, so why bother?"

"We don't really need that negative energy," I say with a sigh. "I'm actually up for it. Let's go."

"We've got to finish looking through this album first," Hunter says, taking it in his hands and flipping the pages rapidly. "Oh, hey, Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"Where were you in that photograph? We kinda got a bit sidetracked."

"Oh," Matt says, in a tone that curses his luck. "Okay. I was at the police station."

"They called you, or you went?" Emilie asks, sitting up straighter and brushing honey-colored bangs behind her ears. "I don't think you went to them, though."