Desire ❃ newt

cнapтer 5

We ended up near the back of the Homestead—that was what Chuck called the leaning structure of wood and windows—in a dark shadow between the building and the stone wall behind it.

"Where are we going?" Thomas asked.

I was still feeling the weight of seeing those walls close, thinking about the maze, the confusion, the fear. I told myself to stop or I'd drive myself crazy. Trying to grasp a sense of normalcy, I made a weak attempt at a joke. "If you're looking for a goodnight kiss, forget it."

Chuck didn't miss a beat. "Just shut up and stay close."

I let out a big breath and shrugged before following the younger boy and Thomas along the back of the building. We tiptoed until we came upon a small, dusty window, a soft beam of light shining through onto the stone and ivy. I heard someone moving around inside.

"The bathroom," Chuck whispered.

"So?" A thread of unease stitched along my skin.

"I love doing this to people. Gives me great pleasure before bedtime."

"Doing what?" Something told me Chuck was up to no good. "Maybe I should—"

"Just shut your mouth and watch." Chuck quietly stepped up onto a big wooden box that sat right under the window. He crouched so that his head was positioned just below where the person on the inside would be able to see him. Then he reached up with his hand and lightly tapped on the glass.

"This is stupid," Thomas whispered.

There couldn't possibly be a worse time to play a joke—Newt or Alby could be in there. "I don't wanna get in trouble—I just got here!"

Chuck suppressed a laugh by putting his hand over his mouth. Ignoring me, he reached up and tapped the window again.

A shadow crossed the light; then the window slid open. Me and Thomas jumped to hide, pressing ourselves against the back of the building as hard as we could. I just couldn't believe I had been suckered into playing a practical joke on somebody. The angle of vision from the window protected me for the moment, but I knew me, Thomas, and Chuck would be seen if whoever was in there pushed his head outside to get a better look.

"Who's that!" yelled the boy from the bathroom, his voice scratchy and laced with anger. I had to hold in a gasp when he realized it was Gally—I knew that voice already.

Without warning, Chuck suddenly popped his head up toward the window and screamed at the top of his lungs. A loud crash from inside revealed that the trick had worked—and the litany of swearwords following it let them know Gally was none too happy about it.

I was struck with an odd mix of horror and embarrassment.

"I'm gonna kill you, shuck-face!" Gally yelled, but Thomas and Chuck was already off the box and running toward the open Glade. I froze as I heard Gally open the door inside and run out of the bathroom.

I finally snapped out of my daze and took off after my new friends. They had just rounded the corner when Gally came screaming out of the Homestead, looking like a ferocious beast on the loose.

He immediately pointed at me. "Come here!" he yelled.

My heart sank in surrender. Everything seemed to indicate that I'd be getting a fist in the face . . . or worse.

"It wasn't me, I swear," I said, though as I stood there, I sized the boy up and realized I shouldn't be so terrified after all. Gally wasn't that big.

"Wasn't you?" Gally snarled. He ambled up to me slowly and stopped right in front of me. "Then how do you know there was something you didn't do?"

I didn't say anything. I was definitely uncomfortable but not nearly as scared as a few moments earlier.