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Dreams

Chapter 6 ~

Dreams

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Dinner that night was uneventful and distasteful. Frypan really needed to step up his game in order to impress Emmy. So far, the sandwiches were the only good thing she'd eaten.

"You're awfully quiet," Minho whispered to her from across the table. Emmy hadn't exactly ever had a conversation with the Asian Runner before and she was surprised to hear him talk to her.

"Sorry," she replied, pushing her food around on her plate.

"No need to apologize, Greenie. You aren't upset or anything, are you?" He then said, taking a large bite of his own food. If there was one thing Emmy had learned her entire time at the Glade so far, it was that the Runners ate like there would be no tomorrow. They always seemed to be hungry.

"No, I'm just..." Emmy stopped and looked up at Minho. She debated weather or not she should tell him of her 'visions'. "tired," she finished, deciding against it.

"We all are, Emmy. Better get used to it." Minho said, ending the conversation there. He stood from the picnic table and left Emmy by herself. Newt, Chuck, and Thomas had already eaten and were elsewhere. Then, the bench sank a little and creaked under the weight of someone sitting on it.

"Hey, Greenie." Said Gally. He leaned backwards onto the table.

"Uh, hey...Gally." Emmy replied, honestly surprised to have him talk to her. Despite her confusion, her heart still pounded hard and fast and she was glad he was there.

"You don't look so hot," he said, leaning forward and folding his hands together. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at her intently.

Emmy blushed under his gaze and turned away slightly. "I'm fine, I'm just tired." She lied again.

The moment she said it, Gally cut her off. "No you're not, don't give me that klunk, Emmy. You haven't been the same since I brought you to my shed. What's wrong?" He wasn't in the mood for anymore lies and he wore a nasty scowl on his face.

Emmy looked him in the eyes and said. "I'm tired. Leave me alone, shank."

Gally stared daggers at her and stood up, grabbing her forearm and yanking her up with him roughly.

"Stop, that hurts." She whispered. His grip was tight and she could tell that he was mad.

"First: don't call me a shank. You don't want to mess with me, Greenie. Second: why won't you tell me what's wrong?" He said, getting close to her face.

"You aren't the boss of me," she spat, yanking her arm out of his iron grip. "And. I'm. Tired. Leave me alone,"

Emmy stormed off, extremely angry at the Gally. He then called after her, sounding a lot less temperamental:

"Emmy, wait,"

Emmy kept walking, rubbing her arm where he had grabbed her so roughly.

"Em, please." He jogged to catch up with her and grabbed her hand, spinning her around to face him.

"Don't call me that," she spat. She suddenly realized just how close they were. Her nose barely skimmed his chest each time he breathed.

"Fine. And I didn't mean to hurt you, I promise. I just can't control myself anymore--not since the Changing." He muttered, staring down at her with his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips over and over again.

"The Changing?" Emmy asked.

"Nasty thing it is. Makes you remember things from before the Glade."