What If | tmr, newt ✓

Chapter 6

"Morning, sleepyhead."

I groan and open my eyes, squinting against the bright light. "Newt, it's, like, five in the morning," I complain, turning to face the other way in my hammock.

"I'm impressed, Addie. Your time-telling abilities are incredible. C'mon, get up, lazy, I thought you'd want to see Minho and the Runners off."

I smile into the fabric at my new nickname. "If you think I would get up early just for that, you would be extremely wrong."

He sighs. "Don't make me tip you upside down."

I shriek, rolling quickly out of my hammock. "Ow," I mutter, landing on the ground. I managed to hurt myself just as much as if Newt had tipped me out.

Yawning, I reluctantly go with him over to the kitchen area, expecting to see the Runners eating their breakfast or maybe even finishing, but realise that nobody else seems to be awake. I glance towards the Doors, thinking that perhaps they already left, but they are firmly shut. "Newt?"

"Yeah?"

"Care to explain why we are the only people awake?"

"Ah yes, I thought you might realise sooner or later."

I groan, turning around. "I'll be going back to bed then."

"Wait, Addie-" he says quickly, grabbing my wrist. Unfortunately, at the sound of my name I turned back around, swivelling right into him and colliding.

Well, this couldn't be much more embarrassing.

I can feel the colour rise to my cheeks as I take a step back and he lets go of my wrist, running his hand through his dirty-blonde hair. If this moment wasn't so awkward I would've taken more time to appreciate how cute he was when he did that.

"Please, don't go, just - just follow me."

I look into his deep brown eyes as he speaks, and I can tell this is important to him. Smiling sadly, I motion for him to go ahead, limping slightly as always, and follow him past the kitchen area into the Deadheads. We are only walking for a couple of minutes through the trees when he halts immediately. I stand beside him, wondering why we stopped, when I see, my breath hitching.

Gravestones. Just five slabs of stone, standing up in the uneven ground, but obvious all the same. Glancing quickly at Newt, as if for permission, I walk past him and kneel down by the newest looking one. A thin layer of mud and leaves had settled, so I quickly rub them off to reveal the name that had been hastily carved into the slab. Cameron. I feel a pang of sadness in my heart for the boy I will never know, and sit back a little with my legs crossed, taking it in. I dare to look across at the others, noticing how the stone looks rougher and more worn as my eyes flit down the row.

Newt comes to sit at my side. "What happened to them?" I ask, the words barely escaping my throat.

"I'm not sure you want to know."

"No, please. I need to."

He sighs sadly, pointing at each stone in turn. "He got lost in the Maze. He got stung and didn't make it through the changing. He attacked that one, killing him, but then we had to banish him for breaking the rules. And Cameron here didn't make it back in time before the walls closed."

I didn't realise there were tears falling down my cheeks. "And you knew all of them?"

He nods. Somehow the silence makes it worse.

"I don't want to end up like that," I whisper.

I feel his gaze on my face, just for a moment, before he pulls me into a hug. I wrap my arms around his middle, resting my chin on his shoulder as I cry silent, unbearable tears.

"You won't."

"And what if I do?"

"You won't. I promise."

***

The Doors opened at precisely six. Before then, Newt spent some time trying to cheer ourselves up over breakfast, then the four Runners woke up and joined us. Minho was his usual chatty self, punching my side as I fake-screamed and ran away, pretending he had some disease. I made my way back to our table and the runners started preparing to leave.

"Be careful out there," I told them.

Minho just snorted. "I always am, little Falcon," he said, before taking off into the labyrinth.

***

"So what do you do if nobody gets injured for a while?" I ask Clint and Jeff, the two Med-jacks. So far, I was relieved to find they had been quite friendly, even if Clint was a little quiet and preferred to stay in a different room. But that was fine - he reminded me of myself.

"Just the usual, sorting stuff out, cleaning up. We generally take it as a plus if there is nobody to tend to." Jeff replies.

"Understandable," I say leaning down to sort out another shelf. It was mostly full of empty vials and glasses. I take one out to start cleaning. "I thought you said you cleaned up?"

"We do."

"Then why are these so dirty?"

That earned me a chuckle. "They aren't that dirty."

I wave him off. "They are by my standards," and get to work on cleaning the rest of them.

When I'm nearly done, Jeff leaves the room to attend to one of the gladers who managed to cut themselves repairing a fence of the animal pens. Looking down to concentrate on the glass, I clean off the last layer of grime and catch my reflection. It's distorted, and faint, but I can make out my eyes: piercing blue. They're shocking. I almost laugh as I realise I might look intimidating to the other gladers.

I'm just placing the final vial back when Jeff comes to check on me. "Hey, Adalyn. I think your time's up for today. Thanks for the help."

Time seemed to go quickly, and it wasn't overall that bad. "No problem. Not like I had a choice," I smirk. Jeff's cheeks turn a slightly red shade, and I roll my eyes. Boys... I'd almost had enough of them already. "See you."

***

Working with the Builders, I realised that - although dexterous - some of them were just plain stupid. I was most uncomfortable around them - yes, they made an effort to talk - but every time they did it was some dumb, sexist joke that they all laughed about for ages. I also found it offensive how they patronised me every other second, and how Gally ordered me around more than the others as if I had done something wrong.

No way would I sink to their level and work with them again.

***

The Track-hoes were generally very friendly, and although I didn't particularly enjoy the work, I didn't mind being around them. If worst comes to worst, I'm sure I could endure pulling weeds out of the ground or watering plants every day.

"Hey, Adalyn. I'm George."

I look up to find one of the boys kneeling down to help me. "Hey."

"I've only been here a month, if it's any reassurance. Thanks to you I'm no longer the Greenie."

I laugh. "You're welcome."

"I know you're trying all the jobs in the Glade, but I think they're gonna make you a Runner."

I whip my head up. "What!? But I don't want to!"

He shrugs. "Overheard Alby come over and talk to Newt. Apparently, Minho says you outran him yesterday. Nobody's ever done that. And Alby's been assessing you, he thinks you've got quite - and I quote - an 'analytical' approach to your work."

I sit back on my haunches, frowning. "I didn't even ask. I'd rather stay inside the Glade."

"Oh well. I'm sure they'd listen to your opinion."

"Hey you two! Stop talking and get on with it!" I hear someone shout. It's Newt, who works for the Track-hoes for half the day, and he's frowning as he looks over at us. Is that jealousy written on his face? I turn back to George, smiling, and together we continue working.