The boy with the accent

Chapter 4

I woke up before Newt, and many of the other gladers, I predicted. I looked up at Newt sleeping so peacefully, he looked like an angel. His arms were drooped over my shoulders and his other hand entangled in my hair. I moved both his hands off me slowly making sure to not wake him up. He made a soft groan and readjusted.

I walked slowly downstairs making sure to make the least amount of noise possible. I ran into Frypan making breakfast.

"Good morning, Frypan," I smiled brightly at him.

"'Morning, Greenie," he gave me a weak smile but doesn't lift his gaze from his cooking.

"Do you know where Alby is?" I asked, leaning on the counter next to him.

"He'll be back any minute," he said. As if on cue, the Homestead's crooked door creaked open. Alby came strutting in holding the bridge of his nose between his pointer finger and thumb, clearly stressed. He sighed, and walked up to me.

"Alright, Greenie. You've got a big day today. You'll be trying out a bunch of jobs, seeing what you're good at and what you're not. Any questions?" He said quickly.

"What's my first job?" I was hoping it would be Track-hoe, since Newt suggested I'd be good at it.

"Med-jack. Clint'll show you the ropes," Alby instructed as Clint came striding in next to us.

"G'morning, Greenie," Clint said with a big smile. I nod and smile back. "Your assignment for today is to help me treat Newt. You up for the job?" I felt butterflies float in my stomach at the thought of spending all day with Newt. Before my cheeks got the chance to turn red, I nodded with determination and followed Clint up the stairs towards Newt's room where he'd be healing for a while.

We opened the door slowly, and to my surprise Newt laid there awake and watching us enter.

"Rise and shine, Newt," Clint said cheerily. I smiled lovingly at him. I sat in a stool beside his cot and brushed his hair out of his face.

"Good morning, Greenbean," Newt said in a groggy, raspy voice. He still looked exhausted even after a long night's rest. He watched me with warm brown eyes as Clint checked on his leg.

"Lots of swelling. You definitely fractured it. It's worse since you had an original injury that didn't fully recover. I'm gonna have my new assistant here make you a cast and take care of ya. Sound good?" Clint explained. Newt's eyes sparkled and he nodded contently.

As Clint left, Newt smirked at me.

"You have to take care of me today, Love," he grinned. My face heated up as I laughed. I walked over to the foot of the bed where there was a sheet with instructions. A note at the top read, 'I'll be back to check on him in an hour. Good luck'. I read over the instruction quickly. I noticed there were limited med supplies. But there were some metal rods, bandages and gauze. Newt watched me with admiration in his eyes as I gently pressed the metal rods against his calf, making sure to not hurt him. They would prevent his ankle from moving so it would heal. I filled in the sides with gauze and wrapped it firmly in bandages to create a make-shift cast. I secured it in place and looked at it proudly.

"There you go. Not so bad if I do say so myself," I chuckled. I glanced back up to meet Newt's gaze and the look he was giving me made my stomach flip. His eyes dropped down to his leg as he shifted it side to side examining my work.

"You did a great job," he said calmly. I smiled and laughed. I picked up the sheet with instructions and read it aloud.

"Get soup from Frypan and feed it to Newt. He shouldn't move too much because it could cause straining and prevent his ankle from making the fullest recover possible," I read. I sighed, smiling as I looked back at Newt. He laughed and shooed me away to go get the soup.

A moment later I returned with a small bowl of soup and a spoon.

"Would you like a bib too, your highness?" I joked. Newt threw his head back a bit and laughed into the air. I returned to my stool beside his bed and scooped a bit of soup with the spoon. "Newt..." I trailed off.

"What's on your mind?" He looked at me with a look like he already knew what I wanted to ask. I met his eyes again and hesitated.

"What was your original injury to your leg from? Was it another fight with Gally?" I asked with a sad look as I fed him.

"No, it wasn't a fight with Gally. I just did something dumb and tripped," he said quickly. Due to the vague answer I could infer he wasn't telling me the truth. I decided to not press any more since he clearly didn't want to talk about it. I looked down, a bit discouraged, and continued to feed him his breakfast.

"I'll be back, I'm going to bring this bowl downstairs," I said heading to the door. I leave and descend the creaky stairs.

When I return, I see Newt sitting with his legs over the side of the bed trying to stand. I rush over and grab his shoulders.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I said.

"I want to try and walk. I'm sick of being stuck up here. The smell of mold in this place is bloody ridiculous," he said, frustrated. I sighed.

"Fine, you stubborn idiot," I said. He grunted as he hoisted himself up, putting all his weight on his good foot. As soon as he gained balance, he stumbled forwards and fell to the ground. I burst into laughter as he glared up at me.

"Haha, very buggin' funny," he said unamused. I couldn't control my laughter as I leaned against the bed.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't be laughing,"

I said, wiping tears from my eyes. He stares at me for a moment before we both burst into laughter.

He sits back in bed and sighs. "I know you want to go outside. But until Clint gets back, you're not going anywhere," I said sternly.

"You got it, boss," he sighs.

I'm sitting at the end of the bed talking with Newt when the door creaks open and I swivel my head to look at who it is. Clint walks in with a smile.

"Hey, Greenie. Just here to see how you did," he said. I nod, getting off the bed and standing up. Clint inspects the cast I've made and peels back the bandage to check the metal and gauze. He nods a few times and then finally looks back up at me. "You did alright. The cast was definitely too loose and you used too much bandage. We don't have much of that. But beside that, you did just fine," he said with a smile. I let out a breath and nod, relieved. Clint walks over and offers me a high five, which I return.

Clint fixes my mistakes with the cast and then strolls out of the room.

I turned to Newt and laugh a bit. "Ya hear that? I did 'just fine'," I said proudly. Newt chuckles and shakes his head.

"Just wait until you work at the Bloodhouse for a day," he laughs. My face drops.

"I sure hope that's not tomorrow," I said. "What other jobs are there?"

"Well there's the Runners. Minho is the keeper of them. Then the Builders, Gally's the keeper. Then the Cooks, and as you've probably guessed, Frypan is their keeper. Then the Slicers. You've met Winston, He's their keeper. Then Zart, keeper of the Track-hoes. Clint, keeper of the Med-Jacks. Billy, keeper of the Baggers. Then the Sloppers, Bricknicks and Map-makers," Newt finishes.

"Keepers?" I asked.

"Basically means the leader. The best in that business," Newt explained.

"Ah," I said. "What are Runners?" I asked.

"They explore the Maze. Try to get out of this shuck place," Newt said. "Our base, here, is called the Glade. Every night, the doors around the glade close separating us from the Maze. The runners try and map out the Maze and get back here before the doors close. Worst job, in my opinion," he closed his eyes and rested his head back against his pillow as he finished. I nod, thinking about what he said.

"Try and get some rest, Newt," I smiled. He looks back up at me with soft brown eyes and with a hint of a smirk playing on his face. I get up and turn to leave, shutting the door behind me.