The New Horizon ~ A Maze Runner Story

- 40 -

Thomas caught a taxi just down the road from the City Sanctuary. The ride was mostly silent until May spoke up.
"Thanks for thinking of me. It's been a long time since I've seen any sports. I miss them."
"Of course. I haven't played baseball since, well, my father was alive. I was four, no more than five. Long time ago."
May smiled at him, something sympathetic and internally warming to Thomas. "Did you find any jobs today?"
He almost laughed. It still seemed unbelievable. "Not really. Minho's kind of forcing the idea down my throat. I just don't know how to react."

She nodded, staring out the window as she spoke. "Yeah, my bunkmate just got her job down at a salon. I think I'm going to look tomorrow."
Thomas cleared his throat, looked down at his hands. "I can't seem to get out of this gloom. Every time I try to imagine real life it always seems. . . impossible."
May finally looked at him. Really at him, as if she was reading his mind entirely. "You know it is okay to take your time, Thomas."
Those words ricocheted inside of Thomas's mind as he pondered them. By the time he had finally come up with a reply, the taxi driver announced they had arrived.

In the warm light of the afternoon, the stadium walls appeared more decayed with splotches of rust and scratches. May seemed to notice too.
"I actually heard that the Flare really took a toll on this place. Apparently it used to be a haven from the Cranks out in the City before AFA became involved. It was sterilized of course, but it still hasn't recovered like most of the other buildings around here. It's a pretty crazy part of history when you think about it."
May never seemed to disappoint Thomas with her surprises. "How did you learn that?" He asked as they stepped in line. Cheering emanated from within the structure. The game had already begun.
"I eavesdropped on a couple's conversation near my bunk," May shrugged nonchalantly, "that place echoes a lot."

Once inside the stadium, the applause became amplified into a booming mix of foot stomping and clapping and hollers. They quickly picked up some popcorn from a vendor nearby and found seats high enough that they overlooked the baseball field. From that high, Thomas could clearly make out the sea of baseball fans wrapped around the various seating levels. The bleachers were just as rustic and deteriorated as the outside of the building, but nonetheless it was enjoyable being that far up, looking out onto the field from a great vantage point. He sat right next to May on the bleachers. Shoulders touching, huddled together, snacking on the buttery popcorn.

"Blue Team is winning so far," May said, pointing at the scoreboard. They had missed the first thirty minutes, but Thomas was just grateful to witness any of it. His mind flooded with the memories of his father. His chuckle, the way its happy tone sliced through the chaos around young Thomas when he'd toss the ball to his father. That sound the baseball would make when it came in contact with the bat; only Thomas's father was powerful enough to make it soar with a resonating ping. Thomas was always so amazed at that. . .
"Thomas?" It was May's warm fingers on his skin that made him snap out of his daydreams more than her voice had. But it was startling all the same. "Thinking about something?"

Thomas nodded, chagrinned. "Sorry--yeah. I was just thinking of my dad. I can't believe I actually remember him."
A prolonged cheer from all around them arose, cutting May off. The Blue Team hit a home run. Again. Thomas joined in, clapping along with the rest of the audience.
"Who do you think'll win?" May asked Thomas, leaning into him as the roar grew louder. The Red Team fans booing just as loud. Thomas cherished her proximity: the feel of heat on his neck, the smell of her--popcorn and floral vanilla perfume.
"Blue team. C'mon, that's a no-brainer."
May chuckled, "Well, if you hadn't seen the scoreboard?"

Thomas popped some corn in his mouth, shaking his head. "I'd still go with the Blue Team. I like blue."
May considered that. "I would've gone with the Red--just to be on the opposite side. They could still win." As May said that, the Blue Team got a strike out. She clapped her hands in amusement, her eyes glimmering with an I-told-you-so look. "Never know."
Thomas mocked a scoff. "Please, I have great intuition--Blue'll win."
"So happens to be that I do, too," May said as she snatched a piece of popcorn from Thomas's bag, throwing it in her mouth with a sly grin. He mocked an astonished expression, mouth agape. May just laughed as she stared out into the field, unbothered.

"If you steal, I steal," Thomas said, reaching into her bag of popcorn, earning a swat to his hand that actually burned. May retracted as if sorry she'd hit him so hard, but laughed all the same.
"You have your own."
"What if I wanted yours?" Thomas replied, crunching on the popcorn he had just stolen. May locked eyes with him, unable to come up with a response. . . and somehow unable to look away. Thomas's face grew pink, he cleared his throat, looking out at the field. A Blue player was sprinting across the homestretch.

The people around Thomas were shouting encouragement, some standing up, leaning over to get a better view, squeezing their fists--completely and entirely rapt in the game. It amazed Thomas; this was his reality right then and there. This was his new life--watching baseball with a beautiful girl. It was an empowering feeling. Something he wouldn't have ever imagined only months ago. In fact, for a long time Thomas was convinced that he'd never know what the true definition of a good time was. Things were really starting to get better. And Thomas knew May was a big part of that. The game went on, Thomas and May cheered, watching the sport down below, both enjoying each other's company.