How I survived in an all boys glade

Chapter Four

- Too early -

"WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD!!"

The sudden shout jolted me awake. I bolted upright, my heart racing, only to lose my balance and tumble out of the hammock with a loud *thud*.

"Ow," I groaned, my voice muffled as I lay sprawled on the ground. I rubbed my elbow, which had taken the brunt of the fall.

"Ohhh, ouch. That's gonna hurt," Minho muttered from somewhere nearby, his tone more amused than concerned. I glanced up to see him leaning casually against the post of another hammock, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

Before I could even try to get up, a pair of strong arms hoisted me to my feet. "Minho, shut up," came a sleepy mumble from behind us.

I turned to see a boy sitting up in his hammock, his hair a disheveled mess and his face half-buried in the crook of his arm. "You're gonna wake up the whole Glade," he added groggily, glaring in Minho's direction.

"Sorry, George," Minho replied, though the smirk on his face made it clear he wasn't sorry at all. He turned back to me and, without warning, grabbed my arm and began pulling me away.

"Hey—woah!" I exclaimed, stumbling after him as we weaved through the still-dark camp toward the kitchen area.

"How'd you sleep, Shebean?" Minho asked, glancing down at me as he slowed his pace to match mine.

"Good," I said, stifling a yawn and rubbing my eyes. "Until you decided to wake me up." Minho chuckled, clearly unfazed by my tone.

"Why did you even have to wake me up this early?" I complained, gesturing toward the barely visible sun on the horizon. The camp was quiet, save for the faint sounds of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves. Only two other boys were up, moving sluggishly as they tended to the morning chores.

"Don't you remember? You're getting the tour today. Alby's taking you around," Minho reminded me.

"Yeah, but not this early," I muttered, still half-asleep. "He's not even up himself."

Minho laughed again. "You'll thank me later," he said with a wink, though I seriously doubted it.

As we approached the kitchen, the scent of frying bacon wafted through the air, causing my stomach to rumble despite my grogginess.

"Hey, Minho!" a voice called out, snapping me out of my thoughts. A boy sitting at one of the wooden tables waved us over. "You gotta hear this joke Winston just told me!"

We grabbed some breakfast before joining them. I opted for a simple bowl of fruit, while Minho loaded his plate with eggs, bacon, and toast. We made our way to the table where two boys sat on opposite sides. I slid into the seat beside a darker-skinned boy—who I guessed was Winston—while Minho plopped down beside the pale, freckled boy who had called us over.

"All right, let's hear it," Minho said, digging into his food.

Winston launched into the joke, his animated delivery earning groans and laughter in equal measure. Soon, the conversation devolved into playful banter, everyone joking around and swapping stories.

Minho left shortly after to join the Runners for the day, but more boys trickled into the kitchen, filling the space with lively chatter. The conversation turned to how everyone had reacted when they first came up the Box.

"You should've seen him, though!" Theo exclaimed, pointing at Justin with a dramatic flourish. He sniffled theatrically and wiped at his eyes, mimicking someone crying. "'Who are you?' he said—"

Theo broke off into fake sobs, his exaggerated performance sending the table into fits of laughter. Even I couldn't help but chuckle, though I tried to hide it behind my spoon.

Right on cue, Justin himself walked over to the table, his cheerful smile instantly lighting up the space. "Hey, guys!" he greeted, oblivious to what had just been said. He slid into the seat beside Theo, who suddenly looked very nervous.

"What're y'all talking about?" Justin asked, his mouth already half-full of eggs.

The table fell into an awkward silence, the earlier laughter now replaced with stifled smirks. Finally, Billy spoke up, his tone casual but teasing. "Just talking about how we all reacted when we first got up the Box."

Justin's cheeks flushed a faint pink as he glanced around the table. "Oh, really?" he muttered, clearly aware of what they'd been saying but choosing to play along.

The conversation resumed, with everyone swapping stories about their first day. The laughter, teasing, and camaraderie reminded me of a strange, makeshift family—a chaotic but oddly comforting one. I sat back, nibbling on a piece of fruit, and let the noise and warmth of the morning wash over me.