The Girlfriend Selection

The noise inside stopped instantly.

After a brief rustling, I pushed the kitchen door open.

Fred's shirt was still unbuttoned, his chest half exposed, panic written all over his face. Ayla Butler was wrapped in his jacket, her clothes a mess and her cheeks flushed.

Fred forced himself to sound calm. "Hannah? Didn't you say you had plans today? Why are you back early?"

I didn't even look at him. I walked straight up to Ayla and slapped her across the face.

"Get out."

She froze, one hand covering her cheek while staring at me in disbelief.

Fred immediately pulled her behind him, his expression dark as he snapped at me.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I just asked her to come over and cook for you. Didn't you say you've been craving creamy mushroom soup? I can't make it, so I had her help. Why are you hitting people for no reason? Apologize right now!"

I almost laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.

"Do you think I'm deaf? Does cooking sound like that?"

Ayla's eyes turned red, her voice soft and shaky. "I just got splashed by the soup. We were really just cooking. Please don't misunderstand…"

As she spoke, she picked up the pot from the stove and held it out toward me.

"If you don't believe me, try it yourself…ah!"

Before she could finish, her foot slipped. Her whole body pitched forward.

The pot of boiling soup tipped straight toward me.

I jerked back on instinct, but it wasn't enough. The scalding liquid splashed across my legs, heat exploding over my skin.

Both of us cried out and fell to the floor.

But the next second, Fred rushed to Ayla and scooped her up, panic filling his eyes.

"Are you okay? Did you get burned?"

He glanced at me once, then carried her straight out the door.

"Babe, wait for me to get back."

I bit down against the pain, forcing myself up. I turned on the sink and ran cold water over my legs again and again.

The skin was an angry red, the pain so sharp that it made my vision blur. Sweat soaked through me.

I called an ambulance myself.

At the hospital, even as they treated the burns, I couldn't stop shaking. Every touch made me grit my teeth.

I checked my phone.

Ayla had posted.

[Ugh, burned my hand, but it's okay. He stayed with me the whole time, so it doesn't even hurt.]

In the photo, her hand had a small patch of redness. Compared to the burns across my legs, it was nothing.

And the hand holding hers belonged to Fred.

Right then, another message popped up. It was the girl who had been hesitating before.

[I've decided. I'll join you. I'll help expose them.]