How I survived in an all boys glade

Chapter Three

- Drunk Gladers - 

"For your majesty, Shebean," an Asian boy said with a playful grin, handing the girl a plate of food. He plopped down beside her, the orange glow of the bonfire casting shadows across his face. The fire crackled in front of them, sending sparks dancing into the night sky. Around them, the chatter and laughter of the other boys filled the air, creating a strange sense of camaraderie amidst the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Why, thank you," the girl replied with a laugh, accepting the plate. She glanced at the contents—a bowl of steaming, odd-looking soup with chunks of unidentifiable ingredients floating within. Minho, as she'd been introduced to him earlier, sat down beside her, his energy infectious even as the day wound down.

"So?" Minho began after taking a spoonful of his soup. He gave her a side glance, the curiosity in his eyes clear.

"So?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow as she looked from her food to him, her tone cautious but amused. She hesitated for a moment before tentatively taking a bite of the soup, its taste surprisingly better than it looked.

"How's your first day been?" Minho asked after swallowing his food, leaning back slightly as he propped himself up on one arm.

The girl chuckled, shaking her head. "Minho, you've been by my side since this afternoon when I was introduced to everyone," she pointed out, her voice light but teasing.

"And?" Minho countered, undeterred. "That's only half of your first day, though," he added, his grin widening as he looked at her.

"True, true," she admitted, her tone thoughtful as she gazed down at her plate, idly stirring the soup with her spoon. She took another bite, chewing slowly, before glancing back at him.

"So...?" Minho pressed again, dragging out the "o" in a way that made her roll her eyes.

"What do you want to know?" she asked, her tone a mix of exasperation and humor. She set her now-empty plate aside and turned to face him fully, crossing her legs. The fire flickered between them, its warmth brushing against her side. "That I was smacked against the metal floor almost four times on my way up here? That I thought I was going to die when I saw all these boys looking down at me like I was some kind of alien? Oh, and let's not forget the part where they almost fought over who got to date me."

Minho laughed, leaning back on his hands. "Yeah, maybe not that," he replied, shaking his head. He stood up, collecting their plates with an easy grace. "Be right back," he said, heading toward the makeshift kitchen area.

Left alone, the girl shifted her gaze back to the bonfire. She stared into the flames, her mind wandering. Flashbacks of her chaotic arrival flickered through her thoughts like snapshots—dark walls closing in, the sound of grinding metal, the fear that had gripped her chest as she ascended in the Box. She sighed deeply, letting the fire's warmth ground her in the present moment.

"Heyyyyy!" A slurred voice jolted her out of her thoughts. She turned to see one of the boys sitting beside her, his grin lopsided, his eyes unfocused. He reeked of something sour and fermented.

"Hey?" she replied hesitantly, her voice cautious as she shifted slightly away from him.

"HoW yOu DoIn'?" the boy slurred, leaning a little too close for comfort.

"Hey, Shank," came a firm voice from behind her. She turned to see Alby standing there, his arms crossed and his expression stern. He stared down at the drunken boy with an intensity that made even the fire seem cooler. "Don't you think it's time for bed now?" Alby asked, his tone brooking no argument.

"Me? NoOoOo," the boy protested, stumbling slightly as he tried to stand.

"I think you do," Alby said simply, his gaze unwavering.

The boy wavered, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine," he mumbled, staggering away. Alby grabbed the drink from his hand as he passed, shaking his head in frustration.

Alby turned his attention back to the girl, his expression softening. "You good?" he asked, offering her a hand to help her up.

"Yeah, thanks," she replied with a small smile, taking his hand and standing.

"Hey, Alby! Get over here!" someone called from the other side of the camp. Both of them turned to see a small group of boys waving him over.

Alby sighed, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "Stay close to the fire, all right?" he said before jogging off toward the group, his commanding presence drawing attention as he approached them.

The girl watched him go, suddenly feeling the weight of the day settle on her shoulders. She didn't want to risk another encounter with a drunken boy, so she wandered off to find a quieter spot. She settled against a log, far enough from the others to avoid being noticed but still close enough to feel the fading warmth of the bonfire.

She wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her chin on them as she stared at the glowing embers. The night was cool, and the sounds of laughter and murmured conversations faded into the background. For the first time since her arrival, she allowed herself to sit in the quiet and simply exist, the weight of her new reality pressing softly but steadily against her chest.