The Scorch Trials - completely different version :)

Coordinates

Teresa took the book from my arms, I could tell she was trying not to smile. Laying the book back on the table she opens it at the first page.
C2 R5 B16
That's all it said, scribbled messily over the script in red pen. It had to mean something, it just didn't make sense.
"Coordinates?" She asks, knitting her eyebrows. I try staring at the letters harder, almost as if the answer with spring from the letters and numbers. Since there were no doors here except the one leading back to the dorm, it would have to represent something in here.
"What is in here that starts with a C?" I ask, scanning the room. Teresa walks into the middle of the room, digging her heels into the carpet.
"Ceiling, couch, carpet, case-" she starts in the most boring and tired voice I think I've ever heard.
"Did you say case? Where's a case?" I question, looking back at the letters.
She frowns, pointing to the shelf of books standing next to the lamp.
"Oh, you mean a bookcase!" I hear myself say, she frowns.
"What did you think I meant?" She asks, strolling over to the leather bound books, and running her fingers along the borders probably inspecting the titles.
I walk over to her, putting one hand on her shoulder and leaning my head on her other,
"A briefcase perhaps?" I try to put on a posh English accent like Newt's but obviously, it doesn't work, I secretly wish I had a voice like Newt's.
She laughs, turning around whilst pushing me off in the process which I'll pretend never happened.
"I think it means, case 2, row 5 and book 16," She says, reaching up to the fifth row, it's right then I notice that Teresa is slightly taller than me, only a couple of centimetres but it was still noticeable.
"Got it," she exclaims, she pulls her arm to get the book out but instead of coming out, it turns out horizontal and causes the whole wall to tremble.
We stand back as the rocks crumble, revealing a bright white light on the other side.
"Congratulations," I hear someone say from the other side. Whoever it was, they were rather young, possibly in her twenties.
She walks forward, revealing her face and oh god...
Despite her petite height, she was gorgeous, her dark brown hair braided down her back and pushed across one shoulder. Her face was delicate but striking; dark skin, large green eyes and full pink lips.
Teresa nudges me hard with her elbow, I blush and look at the floor, it was obvious from the girl's expression she knew I was staring at her. She wasn't dressed like the other doctors, yet here she was waiting for us.
"Hey, my name is Harriet, welcome to group B," she says with a smile. I hear Teresa make a low grumble from next to me as she crosses her arms close to her chest.
"Thomas," I say in some dorky voice probably reserved for embarrassing myself in front of pretty girls.
"Oh for the love of God, Thomas," Teresa mumbles, walking out into the room. The place was huge. The size of an aeroplane hanger. Group B was tightly cramped up against the wall. Under different circumstances, I would be pleased to be around a group of girls but I missed the others, I wished Minho and Newt were here, I didn't think I would miss them this much.
"Where's group A?" Teresa asks, reading my mind. Harriet frowns, looking between us both when her eyes locked mine my heart seemed to think it was a fun time to run a marathon.
"Oh yes, the boy's group." She says, grinning. She turns around and points to the other end of the room, where I spot Minho doing either some break dancing or press ups, both very likely.
"Can we just go over?" Teresa asks, started towards them. Harriet shrugs.
"Dunno, you could try I guess but it would be such a shame to ruin such a handsome face." She answers, smiling over at me. My face breaks into a grin.
"Well, I-" I start but Teresa is already pushing me, her nails digging into my arm.
"This isn't the time for flirting, Thomas." She hisses, in frustration, I pull my arm free. Storming in front of her. Minho turns around, seeing me coming. I grin as he shouts in glee, throwing his arms in the air. I run over to him and we hug, I'm not ashamed to show that side of me. 

"Dude, I never thought I'd say this but I'm so glad you're here," he says, patting my back. His face darkens as he looks behind us. A man in a white coat in standing next to Teresa, holding her by the upper arm. Her expression wretched. 

"What's this?" I ask, my tone sounding a lot harsher than I forced it to in the first place. The man sighs like this has happened a thousand times and we were just another group of inconvenient kids getting on his nerves.

"This one is not in your group," he says in a European accent. I'm pulled back from charging the man by Minho before I even have the chance to move my second foot. 

"This one? She has a name!" I shout, successful grabbing the attention of everyone in a mile radius, haven't yet figured out if that will help us in the long run but it felt necessary to point out. 

"Thomas just go and leave it will you?" Teresa pleads in a small voice. I look into her eyes, and then to the tight grasp the man has on her arm and that's when my anger comes. No man should be grasping a girl like he is, it's even worse considering he is practically double her age. Was this guy who hit her?

I look back at Teresa, my eyes asking her the question I felt uneasy asking aloud, she looks down, her hair covering her face. I glance back at the man. 

It was hard to look at him knowing what he'd done, thinking of him as a man wasn't even an option now, he was just a walking disgrace in my eyes. He looked in his forties, with strawberry blonde hair, he had a short back and sides, the top of his head a mass of frizzy curls. 

He didn't look like the type of person who would hurt a fly, with soft green eyes and freckles, his face itself was deceiving. 

"If you're taking her to group B, then we're not going on this trial at all," I say in a snarl. The man's face adapts to the type of face that would give you a heart attack if you saw it in your landing when you go to the toilet at night. His eyes seemed to bulge out their sockets, the veins on his head turning a navy blue. It was the right face to match his personality. He seemed to calm down. 

"Very well, I shall bring this young girl back in half an hour," he says in a monotone voice like his words were being controlled in some far off technical room. Minho walks off, losing interest. 

"You're not taking her anywhere," I hate the fact my voice is trembling, my fists in tight balls at my sides. He purses his lips. 

"We just need her for the process it takes to change group." He says firmly, walking away, dragging Teresa behind him.