What If | tmr, newt ✓

Chapter 5

The evening came around sooner than I anticipated. I had spent the day wandering aimlessly, not really wanting to talk to anyone. When I could, I would stick with Newt, but even he was too busy sometimes and I would be left by myself. I spoke to Frypan, who clearly made an effort to make me feel better, and in return I helped him in the kitchen. I was also introduced to Zart, Keeper of the Track-hoes, who I thanked for suggesting I shouldn't be punished just because I'm a girl. But apart from that, everyone was either avoiding my gaze or staring at me, either way making me feel quite out of place.

Spending all day not really doing very much meant I had a lot of time to think and observe. I found out that Minho was the Keeper of the Runners, hence why he wasn't there in the daytime as well as a few others. I learnt that nobody really likes Gally since he went through the 'changing', making me hate him just that bit more. And finally, wherever he went, Newt limped, and nobody knew why.

So, I was glad when the Runners returned and the walls closed for the night. I was more frightened of the daytime, with the openings to the Maze in plain sight, than I was of the dark. If anything, the darkness comforted me.

The bonfire in front of me was gorgeous, really; its dancing flames were the perfect depiction of beauty. I laughed when Alby held my hand up above our heads, shouting "Adalyn!" and the rest of the Gladers cheered my name back.

I sat with Minho and some of the other runners that evening. The more he explained about his job, the more it made me want to throw up. Okay, so the route planning and trying to figure out patterns sounded okay, and the actual running sounded enjoyable; but what I couldn't stand was the idea that one wrong turn could be your death.

"So how exactly does the Maze change at night?"

"You tell me, genius."

I sigh. "I'm being serious. Is it a repeating pattern? Or random every day?"

"It's, as you said, a repeating pattern. We found that out recently."

After a short pause, I keep talking. "How can you stand to be out there?" I whisper, more to myself than anyone.

"Very easily, shuckface."

Wow, Minho really couldn't resist from sarcasm. "But, knowing you could end up stuck out there the whole night... doesn't that scare you, just a little?"

He shrugs. "Sometimes. Not really. Plus, I wouldn't be out there the whole night. I'd be dead within two hours."

I look across at him with shock evident on my face. "How could you say that?"

He looks dead ahead, face expressionless. "No one's ever survived a night in the maze."

"But there's a first time for everything, right?"

I wave of realisation comes across his face. "I guess you're right. Nobody's ever looked at it that way before."

"All it needed was a girl's mindset," I joke, elbowing his side.

"You mean a Greenie's mindset," he retorts, elbowing me back.

"Hey! I have a name you know!" I say, elbowing him harder.

"Sorry, it must have slipped my mind. It seems you aren't very memorable," he replies, continuing our elbow war.

I elbow him once more for good measure, and before I know he has tackled me onto the ground. I shove him off me, laughing, and start running. To my surprise, I manage to maintain a fair distance away from him as I sprint. I know I could keep going as he lags behind, but eventually slow down as he tackles me into a bear hug.

"I let you catch me," I giggle, leaning my head against his.

"Sshhh, nobody else needs to know."

"You're supposed to be the fastest guy here!"

"I still am the fastest guy," he says, ruffling the top of my hair with his free arm. "Just not the fastest little Falcon."

"What did you just call me?" I laugh, questioning, as I pull out of our hug.

"Falcon," he repeats, as I stand unimpressed with my arms crossed. "Oh, c'mon, it's cute."

"I don't give a shuck if it's cute," I snark, before stopping myself. I groan, realising I've caught on to their glader language.

"Officially one of us," Minho chuckles.

We continue talking as we walk back to the main group of gladers. We keep the line of sarcastic comments going even as some gladers head to their hammocks, but my mind is preoccupied as I notice Newt standing by himself, watching us, thinking I don't notice as he sighs and walks away.