How I survived in an all boys glade

Chapter Two

- The Glade -

"Welcome to the Glade," Newt said, his voice steady but tinged with a weariness that suggested he'd repeated these words many times before. He gestured broadly to the sprawling area surrounded by four towering walls of gray stone, their sheer height dwarfing everything within. 

The ground beneath their feet was a mix of dirt and patches of grass, the space bustling with activity as young boys hurried about, engaged in tasks that seemed both routine and vital.

"The what?" the girl asked, her voice sharp with confusion as she turned to face him, her wide eyes scanning his face for answers.

"The Glade—" Newt began again, but before he could explain, another voice cut through the moment.

"Newt!"

A tall, muscular boy strode toward them, his expression set with purpose. His dark skin gleamed under the sunlight, and there was an air of authority about him that made the other boys pause as he passed. "Just the boy I was looking for," he said, his tone brisk as his gaze settled on Newt. He didn't seem to notice the girl standing behind him, shrinking slightly into the background.

"The guys are talking about a girl coming up the Box. Is it true? They sent a girl up?" The words tumbled out with urgency, his eyes searching Newt's face for confirmation.

The girl hesitated but then stepped out from behind Newt, her presence instantly drawing the boy's attention. Newt gestured to her, introducing her with an almost casual air. "Alby, this is the new Greenie. Or should I say, the new *Shebean*." He glanced at the girl with a faint smile before addressing the darker-skinned boy again. "Shebean, this is Alby, our leader."

Alby's gaze shifted to the girl, his dark eyes studying her for a moment before he nodded. "Nice to meet ya, Shebean," he said, his tone softer now but still carrying a weight of responsibility. 

"Welcome to the Glade."

The girl's brow furrowed as she tried to piece together what she was hearing. "You keep saying 'Glade,' but what is that?" she asked, her voice tinged with frustration and uncertainty as she looked up at Alby.

Alby sighed, rubbing a hand over his short-cropped hair. "That's a long story, Shebean," he said, his tone patient but firm. "Little by little, you'll learn. Tomorrow, I'll take you on the tour. Till then, you stick with Newt here."

The girl straightened, a flicker of defiance crossing her face. "Tell me now," she demanded, her voice growing firmer.

Alby raised an eyebrow, glancing at Newt, who shrugged slightly. "The long story," she clarified, her determination evident.

Alby stepped closer, his gaze steady. "If you ain't scared," he said quietly, "you ain't human."She blinked, confused by his words. Before she could respond, Newt chimed in, his thick British accent cutting through the tension. "He means it's okay to be scared. All of us were when we got here."

Alby let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Man, I ain't good at this," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "You're the fifteenth Greenie we've had. By now, we should've figured out a better way to explain all this."

The girl looked at him expectantly, her confusion mingling with a growing unease. "Maybe just wait for the tour, Alby," Newt suggested, his tone light but firm.

Alby spread his arms in a gesture of reluctant acceptance. "All right, listen up. This place is called the Glade. It's where we live, where we eat, where we sleep. We call ourselves the Gladers. That's all you need to know for now."

He paused, glancing toward the horizon where the massive stone walls loomed. "Day one. Night's comin'. The Runners'll be back soon. Ain't no time for the tour today. Tomorrow, after breakfast, we'll show you around." He turned back to her, his gaze softening. "Give it a few weeks, Shebean. You'll get used to all this. You'll be happy, you'll be helping out, and it'll all make sense."

Before she could respond, Alby placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's gonna be okay," he said, his voice steady. Then, without another word, he turned and walked off, his figure disappearing into the busy crowd of boys.

Newt watched him go before turning to the girl with a faint smile. "Now come on, love," he said, his tone gentler now. "I'll show you where you'll sleep for tonight. We'll sort out your own room soon enough."

He started walking, and after a moment's hesitation, the girl followed, her eyes darting around as they made their way toward the wooden structure Newt had called the Homestead. The sound of laughter and shouting filled the air, mingling with the rustle of leaves in the breeze. For the first time, she noticed the faint hum of insects and the occasional distant clanging of metal.

As they approached the building, Newt glanced over his shoulder. "Don't worry, love," he said. "We've all been where you are now. It'll get better. Promise."

She nodded, though her unease hadn't entirely faded. As they stepped inside the Homestead, the dim light and the sight of hammocks strung across the room gave her a small sense of comfort. It wasn't home, but for now, it would have to do.