What If | tmr, newt ✓

Chapter 8

The rest of the day working as a Med-jack wasn't overall that bad. I learnt that my memory of bandages, slings and casts was pretty impressive, and I remembered an acceptable amount about fractures, breaks, and sprains, too.

This couldn't tear my mind away from the day to come, however. At the times when I was left to my own accord, I was just a bundle of nerves, willing time not to pass. What had I signed myself up to? Did I really want to step beyond the Walls?

Before I knew it, the runners had returned, signalling the closing of the Doors. I explained to Minho over supper what the plan for the following day was, and he let out a whoop of joy. "I got the Greenie!"

"Trust me, I would only choose to come with you if my life depended on it."

"Unfortunately, little Falcon, it seems your life does depend on it."

I huff and roll my eyes, clearing away our table's plates. I notice Newt is particularly quiet tonight, like he has been all day, but I decide not to question it as I follow the Gladers, heading to the seating area in between the kitchen and sleeping quarters. I remember fondly how this was where I spent my second night, celebrating my arrival. Minho is about to sit down on one of the logs - that act as benches - when I remember what I said to Alby just this morning. You guys need to have more fun around here.

On impulse decision, I shove Minho's shoulder, shouting, "You're it!" Before sprinting away. I look over my shoulder as he shouts my name, contemplating what to do, then watch in glee as he does the same thing to Newt and runs away. So it's official: I've started the first game of Glader tag.

***

We were about ten minutes into playing - with around ten guys joining in - when I realised I had the upper hand. For one, nobody seemed to be able to catch me, and then even if they did I could easily tag someone else. If I wanted to disprove to Alby that I should be a Runner, I really wasn't helping my own case.

Lost in my own thoughts, I slow down and immediately hear footsteps from behind. "Hey!" I squeal, turning to see Newt smiling as he approaches. I couldn't care less that he chose me as his target. At least he's got a grin plastered on his face.

I flee towards the Deadheads, thinking maybe I can lose him amongst the trees, and yet his uneven footsteps still continue for an impressive passage of time. When all other noises die out, I find that perhaps the trees weren't my best option after all; in fact, even though it's so small, I've managed to get myself lost.

Taking a few breaths, I turn and head back the way I thought I came from. I'm light on my feet, so when I hear a twig snapping underfoot, I know it wasn't me. I curse under my breath, moving faster, aware of the sun setting and the night drawing over.

Heart pounding in my ears as I speed up, I barely register the figure in front of me before it's too late. He tackles me to the ground and I scream.

Newt laughs and covers my mouth with his hand. "Sshhh!"

I tear his hand away from my mouth, but all the same relax, falling back on to the ground. "Newt! You scared me!"

"Sorry, Addie. I hope you don't punch me this time."

I groan. "You're never going to let me forget that?"

"Never."

"I guess that means I'm 'it' now."

"Sure does."

We stay silent for a few seconds and, suddenly, I'm extremely conscious of his body on top of mine and how dark it has become. I awkwardly roll out from underneath him, push his back to the ground, tagging him, and run back out of the trees, pursuer only metres behind.

***

I can't sleep that night as I lay perfectly still, humming quietly to myself, adrenaline heating me from the core. We were told to quieten down by a slightly grumpy Alby, so sat back around the collection of logs, telling jokes or just generally talking. I met Ben, who was fun to talk to, and I found out he was the last glader to be appointed a Runner, before me. I sat with Newt the whole night, but decided not to mention anything when his leg kept bumping mine. If it were light anyone would have seen the blush in my cheeks.

Eventually, though, everyone trailed off, muttering their goodnights. I felt like I had achieved something; not one of those gladers didn't have a smile on their face.

But now, with time to spare, all I could think about was tomorrow. The more I thought about it, the more I actually managed to convince myself that it wouldn't be that bad. It was just running. And remembering.

Running and remembering.