ADRONITIS (II) : tmr minho

10: I could be Protesting

IMPORTANT NOTE AT BOTTOM

Dawn 10

Dave continues to pour his heart out on the table, and I'm sorry I didn't give him any time of day sooner. Although last time we spoke I was preoccupied, now it is a sort of buzzing distraction. It's part of the reason I couldn't handle staying in the Homestead all day today. It feels so claustrophobic in there, and everyone is worried about my health.

The easiest way to move past this now, is to forget.

"I don't even know what I'm competing against." Dave leans into his arms, which are crossed on the table. He lifts his head, and dully hits it off the table.

I slide my hands under his head, when he lifts it again, and his head lands on the soft backs of my hands. When he leans to the right, my hands follow him, protecting his head from the table.

"Would you quit it, Mom?" He's kidding, so I laugh. "I'm trying to be all mopey and you aren't helping."

"That's kind of the point," I lean down against the table, so we are at eye level. He frowns, harder, if that's possible. When I copy his face, I watch him struggle not to laugh. Not so easy, is it Dave?

"You're kind of klunk at relationship advice," Dave sighs, rolling his eyes. "Thought you'd be better since you are shacking some Mysterious Fellow."

He has called Minho Mysterious Fellow more than once now. I've brushed it off, since he and I both know it's Minho. Unless maybe he thinks it's Frypan, but to me that's funny enough I'd let him belief it.

I like Mysterious Fellow. When we started, I used to like the secrets. Running around in the dark, with our heads in the stars and our arms in the trees was all I wanted. He was a Mysterious Fellow. The Maze Boy who found me when I fell. The one keeps trying to catch me, even though I insist on slipping through his fingers.

"It's hard to give advice to someone who is so bloody hideous though," I laugh. "I can pick up any single shank here. You'd be lucky to get some time in a locked shed with Gally."

Dave physically shudders at the mere idea. I should hang out with him more. He's actually such a good time. Don't know why Michelle wouldn't jump at the chance to be with him. Though he's no match for Minho, Dave is a great guy.

Besides, I can tell that he cares. You need people with passion. Passivity will be the death of our fragile society.

"Newt? Alby?" I turn to see that Greenie (he definitely told me his name but I was so shucked I couldn't even look left or right the next morning, let alone remember the poor shank's name) calling out for anybody. He stands at the West door, in front of the collapse body of a Runner.

I can't tell who it is, but Minho runs one of the two routes out the West door.

I am out of the bench in a flash, running towards the doors. Alby beats me there, but he is running off before I for help before I even arrive.

"You alright?" I run up, moving closer, staring down at Minho. "Are you stung?"

Minho looks up at me, before gesturing to the Greenie beside him. "I'm fine Dee. It's okay."

I sigh, choosing to trust him over the instincts in my gut. "What the shuck happened? Why are you back? It's the middle of the shucking day."

"He'll tell us when Alby gets back," the Greenie tells me.

I shoot Minho a dirty look. Yeah, Minho will tell them both at the same time, but I'm a shuck bit more important than the two boys combined. At least to Minho anyway. If he's been shucking stung by a Griever, I need to get Leo the shuck over here.