Dark Enough -TMR- ( COMPLETED)

Chapter 9

When it was time for dinner, Eleanor practically begged Clint to let her out of the med room. Since Jeff had made pretty clear she shouldn't get out of bed, she tried her luck with Clint. She knew, out of the two, he was the easiest to convince. Plus, he seemed to like her a lot more than Jeff did.

Although, it wasn't like Jeff didn't like her. He just didn't seem to take her very seriously.

"Please, please, please, please..." She begged as she tugged on his shirt sleeve. He tried to hide it but Eleanor saw the smile on his face. "Pretty please, Clint."

"You're sick Eleanor." He said, trying to sound stern.

He stole a glance at the corner of the room where Jeff was currently busy doing god-knows-what with some herbs.

"I don't feel sick. I feel fine." She tried reasoning with him.

He shook his head. His face showed he was sorry which prevented her from getting angry.

Upon his denial, she let out an exagerated sigh and plopped down on the wannabe bed.

"I need to get out of here," She said, "I'm going crazy!"

Clint laughed, but she didn't, so he soon stopped.

She just wanted a bit of fresh air, some movement for her legs. Apparently that was too much to ask for. She felt like a prisioner.

"Just... Okay. Hear me out..." She said seeking Clint's gaze, "We go to dinner. I stay within eye-sight from either of you and I promise that whenever you tell me to go to bed I will obey, without resistance."

She looked up at Clint with a hopeful look on her face, but his face hadn't changed. Her hopes came crashing down.

Just as she was about to give up, Jeff spoke from the corner.

"Fine."

She snapped her head to look at him. He was still focused on the herbs.

A smile made its way to her face, making her cheeks almost hurt.

She wasted no time on standing up. She didn't speak any more words in fear of making them regret their decision.

She waited patiently for them to finish their work, so they could all go to the Kitchens because there was no way they were going to let her go on her own. Even though she felt fine, she didn't want to push her luck.

By waiting patiently she meant swaying on her toes and playing with her hair, braiding and unbraiding, until Jeff couldn't take anymore of her pacing and informed them they were leaving.

As they did so, Eleanor thought to herself she liked Jeff but he wasn't the most patient Glader around.

She couldn't blame him though, she knew she could get pretty annoying. However, she was lucky Jeff and Clint were the Med-jacks because she wasn't sure she could've handled being trapped all day with two other Gladers.

When she had gotten her food, she wondered where she was going to sit. It wasn't early, so all the tables were mostly ocupied by then. She normally didn't eat inside when there were that many Gladers but she didn't want to break her deal with Jeff.

She knew where she had to go, the Runners table.

Last night had proven that the Runners were nice boys, a little full of themselves, sure, but nice non-the-less. And they weren't as intimidating as you go to know them. Getting to know them was the hard part, but thanks to Minho, she had gotten a chance to.

Minho.

How had she even befriended Minho?

It didn't really make sense to her. Minho didn't have that many friends. He was tempered and intimidating, and hard to deal with. He seemed like the total opposite to Eleanor, but somehow they were good together. And sure, he was too smug and sacrastic and too much of a pain in the ass for his own good; but he was also protective and funny, and he liked to make her laugh.