Jealousy

Part 3

"Hey shank, thanks for ditching me earlier," I glare at Newt as I sit across from him for dinner. He looks up, but doesn't say a word, just continues eating with his head in his plate. "Hey shuck face, scoot over," Minho snaps as he sits beside Newt. Usually Newt would think of something smart to say back, but he sits in his seat quietly, avoiding any conversation. "So how was running today Minho?" I ask as I take a spoonful of soup. "It was the normal, nothing new." He sighs as he puts the spoon full of soup into his mouth. "Hey babe," Thomas kisses my cheek as I move toward the left to make room. Newt gives a disgusted look, causing our attention to attract to him. "Is there a problem Newt?" Thomas asks confused. "Yeah, there's a shucking problem. The problem is I want to be bloody alone!" Newt stands from his seat, and Minho lets him out. He stomps off, looking more annoyed than angry. "What's that slintheads problem?" Minho glares at me, and gives me the "did you do something to him" look. "Why are you looking at me? If anything I should be mad at him." I suddenly don't have an appetite any more, so I stand with my bowl in my hand and Thomas lets me through without a word. I place the bowl on the counter and walk out of the kitchen, slamming the wooden door behind me. I can't believe Minho thinks Newt's attitude change is because of me! Man that shank gets on my nerves sometimes. I run towards the Deadheads, trying to take my mind off of things. I run until I'm deep into the woods, and I stop in front of a big elm tree. I slouch down below it, and rest my head on its trunk. Things were so much easier when I was a runner, besides when Thomas would criticize me that there was a possibility I could be injured... Or killed. When I would run through the long corridors, nothing else mattered besides trying to find a way out, for all of us. When I work in the gardens, I feel like I'm no help at all. My leg has become a whole lot better since then. I want to become a runner again, I'm determined to- my thoughts become interrupted by the sound of broken sticks. "Who's there?" I call out, a little too shakily than I expected it to. "It's only me," Newt comes out from behind a tree, holding both hands up like he's being arrested. I giggle, and Newt cautiously walks over to sit beside me. "I thought you wanted to be alone?" I ask, resting my head on the bark once again. "I just needed to get my mind off of things," he says as he puts his arms behind his head, resting them on the tree. "Things?" I ask smiling. "It's nothing." I see a smirk appear on his face, and he suddenly slides over a little closer. I pretend I don't notice, and sit up against the tree. I've been friends with Newt ever since I came up in the box, he was there for me on the first night when I had horrible nightmares, comforting me and holding me in his arms. I told him everything I could remember about my past, about how I had a little sister who I used to give piggy back rides, and my mom who I would bake cookies with around the holidays. He told me everything.... Except one tiny detail, how he got his limp. I've always wondered how he ended up with the limp, I've just always been too afraid to ask. "Newt, so uh, you never really told me how you ended up with your limp," I say shakily. He sits up nervously and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, I uh, I had it when I came up in the box. Maybe I broke my shucking leg before they put us here." I look at him, and stare deep into his brown eyes. Deep down you can see the pain. I know he's lying.