Lover Boy | Newt (Book 1)

~~ 10 ~~

Cyrah's P.O.V.

   "No, we can't!" Alby yells, his voice muffled by the roll he's stuffing into his mouth. That kid? He has no table manners whatsoever. I mean, yes, we are trapped inside of a prison, surrounded by an unmapped maze, but hello? We're still people and it's uncomfortable for someone to watch you stuffing your face like that!

   Anyways, back to the conversation. As you can see, Alby and Minho are arguing about the maze.

   "But we have to!" Minho shouts back, clenching his fists. When he's shaking his head back and forth, I can see a green stone with inlaid gold hanging on a fine gold chain. It looks familiar, too familiar, almost. Like the memory is just above my head like one of those cat toys, but I just can't get it, every time I get close, someone jerks it away.

   "We don't know what's out there! And we're safe here, temporarily, at least! Me and Newt have barely explored the maze, and what if we get lost? How is Cyrah going to survive here on her own?"

   I clench my fists tightly, not noticing the glance Newt sends my way. The bickering gets louder and louder, and the buzzing in my ear increases. "SHUT UP!" I scream, making them both go dead silent.

   "You two need to slim it. Here's what we're going to do. You are going to do it, or I'll knock some sense in for you since neither of you have any at all. Minho's right, we have to try, but we can't just recklessly head out into the unknown (See the Frozen 2 reference I made there? xD). We have to try and find the exit. We're exploring the maze the day after tomorrow, but first, we need to prepare. Train with weapons, make a plan, everything. So –––"

   "Cyrah –––" I shush him with a look.

   "I'm not finished yet. Also, it's 'Newt and I", not "Me and Newt", Alby. And I love how you're just assuming that I won't be coming with you and I'll work by myself if you go into the maze and die. Just because I'm a girl does not mean I need to be treated like glass." Newt and Minho groan simultaneously when I correct Alby's grammar. Looks like those too will become great friends.

   "I can't believe you're taking his side, Cyrah!" Alby bursts out furiously, slamming his fist onto the table. "Him! The Greenie! He doesn't know jack about this Glade!"

   "But they're both being bloody reasonable, Alby!" Newt grumbles. "Can we all just do what Cyrah said and bloody eat in peace?"

   "Newt, you're only taking their side because –––"

   "I know what you're going to say, Alby," he growls. "But it's not because of that. They're being reasonable, you're not. We're going to have to get out eventually, and if you don't go out there, we won't. It's a maze, just solve it and go home!"

   "Fine," Alby mutters. "Shank."

   "What's a Shank?" Minho questions. "Is there some slang that I'm not catching on, here?"

   The conversation slowly becomes lighthearted again, and I silently thank Minho 134 times in my mind. "No, Alby's just a big fan of randomly making words. It's easy. Um... 'shuck', 'slinthead'."

   "Wait, so far we've got 'shank', which is an insult to a person, 'shuck', which I'm assuming is a curse word, and 'slinthead', which is another insult. 'Klunk' is poop or a swear word. 'Slim', which means calm. How 'bout 'Greenie' means newbie?"

   "I like it," Minho says, grinning.

   "Good idea," I add. "Wait, doesn't that mean logically, something like...'shuck-face' can also be a word?" 

   "Hmm...yeah, I think it does. Let's add that to the vocabulary list, exclusive for us Gladers."

   "How long did you spend coming up with that name?" I roll my eyes, making Minho follow.

   "I would tell you, but I doubt you'd understand," he shoots back.

   "Huh. Isn't that your fault, though? That you don't know how to give a simple explanation?"

   "You guys are impossible," Alby mutters.

   "Live with it, Alby," I deadpan. "You're the oldest here, you have to take care of all the little kids who are a year younger than you are."

   "Cyrah, I'm pretty sure you're three years, if not four, younger than me. What are you, 12?"

   "Yes, on a scale of one to ten. Besides, act like I'm 'two years, if not three' years younger instead of being a...shuck two-year-old and I'll consider it. Also, I'm pretty sure I'm at least 13, perhaps 14, since I would say I'm about as tall as Newt." He's a bit taller, but same difference. I made air quotes at the part when I'm taking out his words since when you copy words from someone else, they need to be in quotations! 

   "Ooooohh! BURN!" Newt practically squeals.

   "She's got you there..." Minho adds, perfectly accentuation his undertone, which is a sing-song voice suitable for babies.

   "You guys are so childish!" Alby growls.

   "Ahem..."

   "Well, Newt and Minho are," He corrects instantly.

   "Good," I agree. "So we're going with my plan, right?"

   "It's not like you gave us a choice, Cyrah. 'Here's what we're going to do. You are going to do it, or I'll knock some sense in for you.' That's not agreement, it's a threat, although you don't look very intimidating," Newt reasons mockingly, mimicking me. 

   I put a hand on my chest, faking being hurt. "You're taking their side, Newt?" I sob dramatically. "I can't believe you! You're a traitor!"

   "You see, that's what I thought when you took Minho's side instead of mine!"

   "Shut up, Alby!" I grumble. He only smirks knowingly.