Shanksgiving [The Maze Runner]

Shanksgiving

  "Are you sure you want to do this?" Newt asked, licking his lips nervously.
"Of course," Thomas said, shivering in the late November air. "Anything's better than staying alone on campus for the entirety of Thanksgiving break."
"My mom is a terrible cook," he said, knowing it was a lie as soon as the claim escaped his cold, chapped lips.
"I'm sure whatever she makes will be better than the McDonald's I was originally planning on eating."
"My family is.. weird," Newt said, straining the last word and averting his eyes.
Newt knew his family wasn't that bad. But he also knew they'd embarrass him. And he was not ready for that.
"At least you have a family," Thomas said, frowning as a chill ran down his spine.
Newt got quiet and Thomas was silent, too. In an instant, Newt regretted his last sentence. What kind of friend did that? He shouldn't have been so insensitive. He knew Thomas didn't have a family, not one that he knew of. Bringing it up was a horrible move on his part.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his words practically carried off by the wind. "I.. I didn't mean it like that."
"No.. It's fine. I'm sure your family is amazing," Thomas said, staring down at his shoes.
Newt nodded. "Are you really sure though?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, Newt. Do you not want me to stay for break? I could still catch a bus back. I really don't want to intrude.."
"No," Newt said sharply, surprising himself. "I mean.. No. You're here now. Of course I want you to stay. I'm just warning you.."
"Okay."
They stood silently in the cold for a few moments. Thomas finally said, "So can we go in or what? Because it's getting cold out here.."
Newt flushed and shook his head. "Sorry.." He turned around and pulled open the front door, holding it open so Thomas could walk through first.
Newt followed him, taking in the smell of turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes that hit him as soon as he crossed the threshold. He pulled off his boots, shrugged off his coat, and unwrapped his scarf. Thomas followed suit, and they hung their things in the nearby closet.
"Mom! I'm home!" Newt called out.
Newt's mother came rushing out of the kitchen, an apron tied around her waist.
"I've missed you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around Newt and looking up at him.
"Missed you, too," he said. "Where is everyone?"
"Uncle Joe is in the living room playing cards with your grandpa. Samantha and Aunt Val are helping with dinner." She smiled, noticing Thomas standing behind Newt. "And you must be Thomas! I've heard so much about you!"
Thomas nodded. "I've heard a lot about you, too," he said, smiling. Newt's mother laughed.
"Probably not as much as I've heard about you. Newt talks about you all the time," she said, pushing a stray piece of hair away from her face.
"Mom," Newt said, drawing out the word dramatically.
She laughed again. "I should get back to dinner. Go introduce Thomas to everyone," she said. "I'll have lots of time to get to know him later."
She walked back to the kitchen.
"See? This is why I didn't want you to meet my family," Newt said once she was gone.
"Why? She's nice," Thomas said.
"She is," Newt said, careful not to say anything to bring up the sensitive topic again. "She's just the beginning, though." He smirked, mock evilly, and led Thomas to the right, where the living room was.
There was a dark grey couch, a TV, and a few other chairs. On one end of the couch was Newt's grandfather, a stooped over, white haired man. On the other end was another man, one with light brown hair and a short beard. They each had a collection of cards in their hands.
"Newt," the younger man said, looking up from his hand. "Welcome home. How's the college life treating you?"
"Great," Newt said. "How's work?"
"Tiring as always," his uncle said, smiling.
Newt laughed and turned to his grandpa, "Hey, Grandpa. How are you?"
The old man turned and blinked up at Newt, like he was trying to remember who he was. "Doing fine, Newt. How about you? Who's your friend?" he asked, pointing a wrinkled finger in Thomas's direction. Giving a slight, awkward wave, Thomas smiled.
"Grandpa, this is Thomas. He's a friend from college."
Newt's grandfather squinted up at Thomas, then held his hand out. Thomas shook it. The old man kept shaking it, his grip strong. After at least thirty seconds of hand shaking, Newt said, "Grandpa, I think that's enough. Don't bloody rip his arm off."
He let go of Thomas's hand and gave him a pat on the back. "Alright then. I'll talk to you later; I'm about to win this hand."
Newt smiled and then led Thomas into the kitchen. His mother stood at the stove, stirring mashed potatoes. His aunt was making gravy. Samantha sat on a stool, pouring sprinkles on cookies.
"Welcome home, Newt," his aunt said. "Who'd you bring with you?"
"That's Thomas," Newt said, nodding his head in Thomas's direction. "He's a friend from school."
"Well, hey there, Thomas. Go by Tom?"
Thomas's face darkened for a split second, but then he smiled and shook his head. "Just Thomas."
"Alright then. I'm Newt's Aunt Val, his favorite aunt."
Newt groaned, "You're my only aunt."
"Same thing," she said, laughing.
"That over there," Newt said, pointing to the girl who was about sixteen years old, "is my cousin Samantha."
Samantha looked up and smiled at Thomas. "So Newt does have some good looking friends," she said, flipping her long hair to one side and flashing Thomas another smile.
Newt rolled his eyes. "I'm going to show Thomas around," he said. Then he promptly grabbed Thomas's sleeve and dragged him out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
"Sorry about that," Newt said.
Thomas laughed and shook his head, "Stop apologizing, your family is fine."
"Samantha will flirt with anyone," he said, "especially upon first meeting them."
"Well, I feel very flattered," Thomas said, laughing to himself.
"You shouldn't.." Newt said, stopping at the top of the steps. "Okay. There's the guest room, where you'll be staying, and the bathroom. My parents' bedroom is at the end, and my bedroom is over there," he pointed to a door on the let. "And there's my dad's office."
"Speaking of, where is your dad?" Thomas asked.
"Running late from work."
"He worked on Thanksgiving?"
Newt frowned and looked away slightly, "Yeah. He'll be home soon, though."
Thomas decided not to push it, so he stayed quiet.
"Want to see my room?" Newt asked, already walking down the hall. He pushed the door open and breathed in deeply, inhaling the familiar scent. He hadn't been inside it since late August.
Thomas smiled slightly and walked in after Newt.
Newt's room was painted grey. One of the walls was lined entirely with book shelves. Against the opposite wall was his bed and desk.
Thomas walked over, running his fingers lightly over the spines of Newt's collection.
"Wow, Newt. I knew you liked to read, but not this much.."
Newt shrugged sheepishly as he sprawled out on his bed.
Thomas sat at Newt's desk chair, near the foot of the bed. He spun lazily, smiling as he did so.
Newt occasionally glanced sideways at Thomas, trying to be inconspicuous. He looked like a delighted child, spinning on that chair and smiling happily. Just the sight made Newt want to walk over and hug him.
Still spinning, Thomas said teasingly, "Why do you keep looking at me? Hasn't your very nice mother taught you that staring is rude?"
Newt's face heated and he looked away, playing with his lamp on his bedside table. "I wasn't staring."
"Yes, you were," Thomas said, laughing. He started spinning the other way, having fun on Newt's chair. "Is it because I'm so very attractive?" He smiled, laughing some more.
"Yes.." Newt said quietly, nothing but a whisper under his breath.
Thomas stopped spinning and stared at him, cocking his head to the side while studying Newt.
"Well, shuck. Look who's staring now," Newt said quietly. He turned back to face Thomas, their gazes clicking together like a key in a lock.
They were quiet.
"Newt?"
"Yeah?"
"Can we stop staring at each other? It's starting to get creepy."
"Okay."
But neither of them tore their eyes away from the other's. They stayed there for an eternity, Newt on his bed and Thomas at Newt's desk.
"Thomas?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you believe in soul mates?"
Thomas finally broke away his gaze and laughed. "What kind of question is that?"
Newt smiled at the sound of Thomas's laugh and shrugged. "I don't know."
Thomas turned around and began running his fingers over the edges of Newt's desk, absent-minded.
"But do you?" Newt asked from behind him.
Thomas stopped his finger mid-trace and thought. After a moment he shrugged, turning to face Newt again. "I don't know.. I guess so. Do you?"
"Yeah.. I guess," Newt said, shrugging.
"You'll meet yours," Thomas said, turning around again and inspecting Newt's books. "If that's what you're worried about."
"Maybe I already have," Newt said, looking at the back of Thomas's head.
"You think so?" Thomas asked.
But then Newt's mother called them to come downstairs. Dinner was ready. Newt didn't get the chance to answer Thomas's question, or to ask any more of his own.
The whole way down the stairs Newt's heart raced nervously.
In the dining room, the table was set. The whole house smelled like turkey. Newt's mother motioned for Thomas to go ahead and sit down, so he did.
Samantha immediately slid int the seat on Thomas's left. Newt sat across from Thomas.
New'ts father was finally home, sitting at the opposite end of the two boys. Newt glanced at him and smiled. His father smiled back, but it had the slightest tension in it.
Newt led them in prayer. Thomas followed along, bowing his head even though he wasn't all that religious.
They began to eat. Newt's older relatives (minus his grandfather) talked at the head of the table. Samantha turned to Thomas and batted her eyelashes.
"Thomas, would you hand me the green beans, please?" she asked, even though she could easily have reached them herself.
Thomas smiled and handed her the bowl.
"Thanks," she said, still batting her eyelashes. Thomas wondered if she suffered from migraines with all the blinking she was doing.
"Of course," he said, politely.
"So," Samantha said, scooping beans onto her plate. "You go to State with Newt? What's your major?"
"English for now, though I haven't figured it out yet," Thomas said, scooping up some mashed potatoes.
"Well, you're a freshman like Newt right? You've still got time to change it," she said, twirling her hair.
Thomas nodded.
"Do you and Newt have a lot of classes together?"
"A few," Newt said vaguely as he ate stuffing.
Samantha laughed, high pitched and fake as ever. "Don't be so vague, Newt," she said, smiling at Thomas while she said it.
Beneath the table, Newt reached his foot out to kick Samantha in the shin. But instead of hitting is cousin, he accidentally hit Thomas.
"Ow," Thomas said, more on instinct than from actual pain.
"Sorry," Newt said, looking genuinely sorry. "I was aiming for Samantha."
Samantha glared at Newt but then turned back to Thomas, who casually kicked Newt back. Smiling, Newt faked pain from across the table.
"So," Samantha said again, dragging her fork through her gravy casually. "Dating anyone?"
Thomas swallowed. "Not anymore."
"Oh?"
Newt listened to them silently, taking a sip of his water. Since when did Thomas break up with Kaitlyn? he wondered to himself. They'd been dating since the first week of college.
"Yeah. My girlfriend and I broke up last week."
"I'm so sorry," Samantha said in a sympathetic voice, the kind of voice you use when you really don't care but you pretend that you do anyways.
"It's fine," Thomas said. "I broke up with her."
"Oh. Was there a reason?"
"It just wasn't working," he said simply, glancing up and realizing that Newt was listening. He smiled at him and Newt smiled back.

After dessert, they sat around the living room and talked a bit.
"So," Newt's father said, leaning back in the recliner. "Are you two a thing now or something?"
Thomas raised his eyebrows and looked to Newt. Newt buried his face in his hands.
"No," he said to his father, his voice muffled. Thomas could see his neck was red.
"Too bad, he's a keeper," Newt's grandfather said. it was one of the only things he'd said all night.
"Wait," Samantha said, looking very confused. "Newt are you-"
"I'm going to get a drink," Newt said, a bit too loudly, as he stood up.
After Newt had left they all looked at each other. Then talk turned to politics.

Newt flipped over in bed again, sighing loudly.
It was almost midnight; he'd been tossing and turning for hours. It felt great to be back in his own bed and not in his dorm, but he couldn't get comfortable.
"Can't sleep?" Thomas whispered, scaring him. Newt jumped, realizing that Thomas was standing in the doorway.
"No. Sorry, did I wake you?"
"I've been awake.."
"Oh."
They were both silent.
"I didn't know you and Kaitlyn broke up," Newt said suddenly.
Thomas shrugged even though he knew Newt couldn't see him. "I didn't think it was important."
"Sure it is. Are you upset about it?"
Thomas was quiet, thinking. "Not really. Part of me knew it wasn't going to work."
Newt didn't say a word.
"Newt? Is something bothering you?"
Staring into the darkness and listening to the silence of the house, he walked further into Newt's room, closing the door behind him.
"Maybe," Newt said.
"What is it?" Thomas asked softly.
"I bet no one will ever love me like that. Like how Kaitlyn loved you. It's a depressing thought, Thomas."
"Don't be ridiculous," Thomas said. Newt could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "Of course someone will love you like that."
"Maybe.. when I'm dead," Newt said, smirking to himself.
"Dead? Come on Newt, there are loads of people out there. And they're all very much alive."
"Yeah.." Newt said, trailing off.
"You shouldn't be so hopeless. We're still young; we've got plenty of time to find our soul mates, as you would say."
"What if my soul mate doesn't love me back?" Newt asked, ever so softly.
"Who wouldn't love you back?"
"You."
A single word, quiet and barely audible in the still darkness. Thomas was quiet.
After a long time, Newt asked, "Thomas? Are you still there?"
Thomas thought about pretending to be gone. But he said, "Yeah."
"Okay.."
"Newt?"
"Yeah..?"
"I-" Thomas cut off, knowing he was about to change everything. He swallowed. "I love you back," he said quietly.
Newt stayed still, every muscle in his body tensed. He didn't breathe, couldn't breathe.
"You don't mean that," he said finally.
Thomas shifted, cautiously walking over to Newt's bed. He sat at the end of it, leaning his back against the wall. Newt drew in a sharp breath when he felt Thomas sit by his feet.
"Of course I mean it, Newt. Its always been that way.."
"What about.. Kaitlyn?" Newt asked.
"It wasn't the same.." Thomas said tentatively.
Newt sat up, sitting beside Thomas. Their shoulders touched, and Newt felt the warmth radiate off of him.
"I-" Newt's voice broke. "I really like you, Thomas.." He reached out, grabbing Thomas's hand. Thomas flinched, but then gripped Newt's hand back.
Thomas was quiet, running his fingers lightly over the back of Newt's hand. newt smiled. "I really like you, too, Newt.."
Newt grinned, laying his head against Thomas's shoulder. Thomas smiled; Newt smelled like fresh sheets and soap. He breathed in deeply. Then Thomas looked down at Newt, just barely able to make his face out in the darkness.
"Aww, Newtie.."
"Did you just call me Newtie?"
"Maybe," Thomas said, laughing under his breath.
"Okay." He paused. "Okay, Tommy."
Newt looked up at Thomas; Thomas looked down at Newt. Their faces were just inches apart. Newt was dying to close the gap.
Thomas shivered. Newt pulled is blanket up over both of them. They looked at each other, both shadows in a sea of darkness. Thomas reached down, pushing Newt's hair away from his forehead ever so gently. With Thomas's warm fingers on his skin, Newt froze.
And then, he was leaning in.
And so was Thomas.
Their lips collided and so did their worlds. It was exactly what each of them had been waiting for since the day they met.
Thomas kissed Newt, and Newt kissed him back. He winced as Thomas's lips rubbed against is own, chapped ones. Thomas pulled away.
"Okay?" he asked quietly, looking into the deep void of Newt's eyes.
Swallowing, Newt nodded. He leaned back in, kissing Thomas again, taking him in. Thomas kissed him back, gently this time.
When they pulled back to catch their breath, Newt spoke to Thomas. His voice was hoarse.
"You don't know.. how long I've wanted that.." He looked at Thomas with wide eyes. "I love you, Tommy.. I always have.."
"I love you too, Newtie. So shucking much.." Thomas said, meaning every word.
Newt smiled, a bit shyly.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Newtie."
"As Minho would say, 'Happy Shanksgiving.'"
Thomas laughed and nodded, hearing Minho's voice in his head. Then he said, "I should probably go back and let you sleep.."
Newt yawned, "But I'm not tired.."
"Aren't you now?" Thomas grinned.
"Stay with me. Please, Tommy. Please."
And he did.