teenage wasteland ;; the maze runner

2.14

    by the time florence finished telling her story, all the gladers — and aris — around her were staring at her with appalled and shocked expressions. tears bubbled in her eyes, threatening to spill as her stomach turned. she thought she was going to lose it as soon as she brought up violet, but she held herself together.

    the silence was deafening, as it always was, as they processed the new set of information. even florence hadn't fully accepted everything, she couldn't see how any of the boys or teresa would be able to in just a few minutes.

    but maybe it was easier when it was someone else's story.

    flo turned away, looking down at her feet as she swallowed back the lump in her throat. she desperately wiped at her nose, trying to take deep breaths before she spilled either her tears or her guts in front of all of her friends.

    "florence..." she didn't need to look up to know it was newt. "florence, i don't even know where to begin—"

    she shook her head and rubbed her eyes. "don't," she insisted, "don't begin. don't even worry. i just wanted you guys to.. to know. i don't need you to worry about me or anything."

    florence dared to look at the faces of the rest of her companions. teresa's was harsh and unreadable, and flo couldn't help but remember the words she'd said to her back at wicked. aris' face was also unreadable, but she blamed that mostly on the fact that she didn't know the kid.

    she did know fry and winston, however, and based on their grim looks, she knew they weren't only shocked by her tale, but they were almost feeling angry for her. she creased her eyebrows and looked at both of them, merely shaking her head. i'm fine, she said wordlessly, but they didn't seem convinced.

    and then there was minho and newt, concern etched onto their features. but, like winston and fry, they both seemed angry as well. angry that they hadn't protected her, angry that wicked got to her, angry that she had to go through that alone.

    that was enough for the lump to rise back into her throat.

    thomas was a cloudy mix of rage and sadness, almost like, while he didn't remember everything, parts of her story acted as a recall for him. he had just enough memory for glimpses of their life in the lab, and although florence nor thomas was to blame, he couldn't help but feel that guilt.

    sammy looked downright sad, unable to believe that his big sister, his protector could ever really feel defeated. he'd always known her to be strong and resilient, but nobody prepares you for the moment when your hero suddenly becomes the damsel in distress.

    and antony... florence took one look at him, at his darkened face, grim with what felt like anger and guilt, and she had to look away. her stomach twisted, and she couldn't handle it anymore.

    she had no idea why, out of all of them, he was the one who broke her.

    she cleared her throat, wiping her eyes one last time. "look, it's fine," she lied, "like i said, i wanted you guys to know. you deserve to know." she looked away briefly, swallowing a wad of spit.

    the only time florence returned her gaze to any of them was when she felt a small hand grip her own. she glanced downwards only to find sammy, looking up at her with big eyes that reflected her own, filled with tears, but also filled with something new.

    they were almost proud of her.

    "well," newt breathed. "not to move on quickly or anything," he glanced at flo, "but we need to do something. if wicked is as dangerous as you're saying, then we need a plan." all eyes turned to thomas. "you have a plan, don't you?"