How I survived in an all boys glade

Chapter Twenty-five

- weird vibes? -

When we finally finished eating, I made sure George took over with Jack for a while. I really needed a break from his constant gaze—it was like he was studying me, always watching me in that unnerving way. "So, what are your thoughts on the new guy?" Minho asks, his voice cutting through the silence as I rearrange my hut for what feels like the third time this week.

"I don't like him," Newt responds without hesitation, his tone blunt. He's sitting on my bed, absentmindedly playing with a flower crown I had made the other day, twisting it in his hands as he talks.

"Why?" Minho presses, his curiosity piqued. He's sitting backwards on my chair now, leaning over the backrest, watching me as I organize my things.

"I don't know, just something about him seems off," Newt mutters, sounding frustrated but unsure.

"Yeah, I agree," Theo chimes in from the window, his back resting against the frame. He's watching the outside world, but his voice is clear as he adds, "There's just something about him that I don't like." I nod slightly, feeling the weight of their words. I can't help but agree with them—there's just an odd vibe coming from Jack that doesn't sit well with me either.

"Well, maybe he's just trying to fit in, you know?" I suggest, trying to keep an open mind. I'm folding some clothes into neat piles, doing my best not to jump to conclusions just yet.

"Yeah, but we weren't staring at the other guys the same weird way he does at you," Minho points out, his words making my skin crawl a little. The way Jack had been looking at me, almost like he was sizing me up, wasn't something I'd seen before. It's starting to make me feel uneasy in ways I don't want to acknowledge.

"Well, I'm sure it's nothing, maybe he just needs time to adjust," I try to brush it off, though a knot forms in my stomach. Deep down, I know something about Jack is off.

The conversation dies down, and we end up just hanging out in my hut, joking around and trying to distract ourselves from the unease building in the back of my mind. But it's no use—I'm still thinking about Jack. When the time comes to head to the bonfire, I force myself to set it aside, knowing I'll get some answers when the whole group gathers.

"You guys just go ahead to the bonfire. I'll change into something warmer," I say, waving them off as they make their way toward the door.

"Alright, see ya at the bonfire then," Minho calls over his shoulder, stepping out first.

"You sure you don't want us to wait for you?" Newt asks, his voice soft with concern. I give him a reassuring smile, turning to grab a pair of warmer pants.

"Yes, just go ahead, I'll be there in a second," I tell him, glad for the brief moment of solitude.

"Okay, see ya there," Newt says, before he follows Minho out of the hut, Theo trailing behind.

I change quickly into a pair of black cargo pants, matching them with my long-sleeved shirt. 

Then, I head out toward the bonfire. When I arrive, I spot the rest of the boys already gathered around, and Jack is sitting between Minho and Newt. I move toward them, taking a seat next to Newt, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling in my stomach. We all chat and laugh together, but even as I focus on the conversation, I can feel Jack's eyes on me, even though I'm not looking at him directly. It's like I can sense his gaze burning into my skin.

"So, why do you all keep calling me Greenie?" Jack suddenly asks, breaking the comfortable flow of conversation.

Minho leans back, grinning mischievously. "Well, when Zart over there," he begins, pointing at Zart who's talking to Alby, Winston, and Clint, "first came up the box, he had no idea who or where he came from. So, he'd just sit in the gardens all day, and we'd all joke that he was growing like a bean." Minho chuckles, and we all laugh at the memory.

"So that's why we call all the new ones Greenie—it's just a shorter version of Greenbean," Newt explains, his arm casually slipping around my shoulders as he pulls me a little closer, the protective gesture comforting despite my lingering unease.

The rest of the night passes in a blur of conversation, laughter, and warmth from the fire. But the entire time, I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong with Jack. He seems... too comfortable, too intense, as if he's been here longer than he really has. Before I know it, Alby is sending us all to bed, signaling the end of the night. But even as I walk back to my hut, I can't help but feel Jack's presence lingering in the air around me, a constant reminder that something about him just isn't right.