"So when did you- you know- fall in love with her?" Thomas smirked, knowing he had him right where I wanted him, with his head in Fionaland.
"Woah," Newt defeated with his hands up, "What?"
"I may be slow to getting to know things around here, but...
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"Hell of a first day, Greenie," Newt noted, though I could barely comprehend all the things that had happened. "Here. Put some hair on your chest."
I took the mason jar, knowing that this would answer my questions but it might just dull the confusion or calm my nerves. I took a quick sip and it instantly put fire in my throat.
"Oh, my God! What is that?" I fought the need to spit it out into the grass.
"I don't even know." He laughed at me, "It's Gally and Fi's recipe. It's a trade secret."
"Yeah, well, he's still an asshole," I commented, seeing him with his friends being rough and rowdy near the fire. The girl, the only girl I've seen, sat on the ground below him, leaning her back against the barrel he was sitting on, holding a maroon book and writing something down. She laughed here and there, still paying attention to the fights, making me think she was drawing instead of writing.
"He saved your life today." Newt corrected, "Trust me. The maze is a dangerous place."
I had wondered many things all day, but ever since the maze closed, one question was larger than the rest. "We're trapped here, aren't we?
"For the moment." He nodded. "But you see those guys?" He pointed just past the fire to a group of boys that looked tired and beaten. "Those are the runners. That guy in the middle there, that's Minho. He's the Keeper of the Runners." Another question popped into my head but I let Newt continue. "Every morning, when those doors open, they run the maze... the report back to Fiona, the glade's pain in the ass little princess, mapping it, memorizing it, trying to find a way out."
"How long have they been looking?" I asked.
"Three years." He answered.
"And they haven't found anything?" I could tell all my concerns were starting to get annoying but he replied anyway.
"It's a lot easier said than done. Listen." He told me, pointing up, "Hear that? It's the maze, changing. It changes every night."
He heard metal scratching and what sounded like stone moving. "How is that even possible?"
"You can ask the people who put us in here if you ever meet the bastards." He tried to joke but I found nothing about this comical. "Listen, the truth is the runners are the only ones who really know what's out there. They are the strongest and the fastest of us all. And it's a good thing, too because if they don't make it back before those doors close then they are stuck out there for the night. And no one has ever survived a night in the maze."
"What happens to them?"
He sighed taking another drink, "Well, we call them Grievers. Of course, no one's ever seen one and lived to tell about it. But they're out there."
The sudden beat of the music took a turn, as a boy that introduced himself to me earlier, Winston, started making a small beat on the top of a bucket. A lot of the boys turn to look at him, getting riled up just at the little rhythm, Frypan hollers, "Oh, I'm in."
