Whirlwind | The Maze Runner- Newt

Why Stealing Is Thrilling

CHAPTER TEN

ADELAIDE

For the next few weeks, I begrudgingly did my duties as a Med-jack. I keep my distance from Newt, avoiding him at every possible chance; he seems to do that too. Stan is the one who pulls me into the dining hall now-a-days and I have to sit with Newt, Minho and Stan . It would become unbearably awkward between us with Newt and I not even glancing at each other and Minho and Stan trying to come up with topics for us to talk.

The longer we didn't talk, the worse I felt.

I missed him.

I wanted to talk to him. I wanted everything to go back the way it was.

But I'm never gonna apologize.

Stan is nice to me. He agrees that I should have been given a chance for the Runners. Perhaps he is the only one in the whole world who believed in me.

He tells me jokes that lifted my mood.

"The thing this, rarely we get volunteers for this shucking job. It's so dangerous that the Greenies usually klunk their pants even thinking about it." He says. "So it's kind of out of the blue that you demand for the job. But don't worry, I believe in you."

"Do you? Really? I mean, I thought Newt did too, but he apparently, didn't." I look down.

Stan put his finger under my chin and lifts up my head. His cold finger sends shivers down my spine.

"I'm not like him. I believe you. I will never break your heart."

"Thank you." I whisper, my heart beating faster.

I see his eyes flickering down my lips and I panic internally.

I didn't want this.

I give a soft cough and he seems to take the hint and back off. I see annoyance flicker to his eyes. The air becomes uncontrollably awkward; something that never happened with Stan before.

Sure I liked him. He is the one is standing by me when others aren't. He makes my life in this place, somewhat bearable. He is one of my best friends.

So I liked him, but not romantically. Not yet anyway.

I looks around, unable to meet Stan's eyes. It is sunny and the Gladers were working. Alby is helping a builder carry a plank of wood. Stuart is fixing a pipe into the Gardens. Zart and Newt are working on the grapevines.

Newt's creamy hoodie is off, tied on his waist. He is wearing a brown colored tank top, his muscles flexing as he work. He bends down, picking a machete and wipe the sweat off his forehead.

I am getting so much irritated with the butterflies in my stomach that I want to stomp on everyone of them.

I don't know.

Newt always makes me feel something different. Even now, when we are angry with each other. His sight makes me feel special and at peace.

I missed him. I missed our intertwined pinkies. That was something special for us. Only us. I missed talking to him, laughing with him.

But I am too hurt and too stubborn to shove my pride and talk to him. Apparently, he was too.

I had stopped sleeping in Newt's room, long ago. The builders made a new room for me and I stopped feeling guilty for using his room when we are not even meeting eye-to-eye.

Clint and Jeff knew my hatred towards this job but that didn't stop them for overworking me.

It was irritating but fair at the same time.

I will keep pestering Minho and Nick for giving me another chance for being a Runner.

Until they do.

----

After having a bad day with cleaning wounds of injured Builders and doing nothing else other than cleaning the table top, I decided to sulk in the Deadheads.

I explore the forest, I walk deeper than usual but the forest didn't seem to end. Suddenly I stumble upon a shabbily built hut, camouflaged perfectly among the vines and bushes.

What is this? What are they hiding in here?

I pick the lock with my hair pin, amazed by how I learnt it. And moreover why?

I push the door open and enter the hut. It is dark. I fumble around for a light and switch on a bulb.

All round are papers, with weird lines sketched on it. They are stacked into seven different stacks. There is a round table in the middle of the room with seven chairs surrounding it. The table has a huge stick made model of a.....maze. They made the full model of maze??

I let out a low whistle of admiration. I try to trace a path from the Glade entrance, seemingly only meeting dead ends. I try looking around for an exit near the last boundary of the Maze Walls, but I find no way out.

Suddenly something in the corner of the room catches my eye. I go towards it and my eyes widens when I see what lay before me. A while wall racked with all kinds of weapons. Spears, knives, machetes, spiky wires wound in wooden bats, guns, rifles, swords and bows and arrows.

I am involuntarily drawn to the bows and arrows. Built perfectly and with utter most accuracy, the bow fit balances perfectly in my hand. I pick up an arrow and point the bow to the ground as I place the shaft of the bow on the arrow rest, I pull back the arrow and balance it with my thumb. I pull the drawstring back towards my face and release the arrow.

It lodge itself between two guns. I look at the bow and a sense of belonging washes over me.

Stealing is bad.

Its not stealing, it's called borrowing. 

TOTAL WORDS- 932

A/N:

sorry for a worse than the trash chapter but i think it might be somewhat important for adelaide.

this is not a proofread chapter, so please let me know if you find any mistake.

don't forget to comment and vote. it would mean a lot to me.