Sanction -Minho-

Chapter 15

Grace had a lot of time to think while she was on the job. Frypan's words rattled her for some reason. Until that very moment, she never paused to consider her feelings. Truthfully, there wasn't time. Grace always tried to keep busy, either in the Med-Jack hut, the Gardens with Newt, or the kitchen with Fry. All she did was focus on helping the Glade, not her feelings. Sure, Grace contemplated her existence and place in the universe, but who doesn't sometimes? She was trapped in a Maze full of boys with no memories of her previous life. Questioning the meaning of everything seemed normal.

But anything beyond that never mattered, not until now. Grace couldn't stop thinking about what Frypan said. Sure, she thought about Minho more than others, but he was a Runner. Every time he left, it could be the last time she sees him. It was the most dangerous job in the Maze. Of course, she was worried about him most. That was the reason, the only reason.

Still, she looked forward to their nights together. He was the only person who could make her laugh until she couldn't breathe or make the day go by faster with something as simple as a smile. Minho was the only person truly honest with her. He was the person who stayed with her after Aaron tried to kill her. Their friendship was just different.

Frypan had no idea what he was talking about, Grace concluded. His brain must be Jacked, she thought. There were no special reasons she cared more about Minho. They were just friends. Good friends. Best friends.

Grace concluded that she needed a hobby. Something to do when there was nothing to do in the Med-Jack hut. Although she was almost always busy. She believed if she had this much time to think, then she had plenty of time to help out around the Glade.

The first step is finding something useful to do. That was easy. There was always stuff to be done in the Glade.

She started simple. Clint and Jeff were taking care of Med-Jack stuff. There hadn't been any issues lately. The Slicers were more careful, and the Builders hadn't been injured. The last person she treated was Minho, who didn't take her seriously.

Without realizing it, her mind strayed back to Minho. Grace forced the thoughts away. She needed to focus on what was in front of her, which was a basket. Basket weaving had never been one of her strong suits, but the Glade could never have too many baskets. They were always helpful.

Her fingers were red and rubbed raw from the material. She had a few small cuts but nothing serious. It was safe to say she wasn't a basket maker, at least with reed. It hurt her hands.

"Hey," a shaky voice spoke.

Grace looked up to see a nervous appearing Chuck. "Hey, Chuck." She eyed him, noticing the way he swayed. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he assured her. "I was just wondering if I could join you."

"Yeah, of course." That relaxed him. "Although, I don't think I'm that great of company right now." She had been sitting in the sun all day and was exhausted.

Chuck shrugged and sat beside her. "I think so." He fiddled with the hem of his pants. "Beside's, you're my only friend here."

For some reason, that hurt Grace. Chuck was younger than the rest of the Glader's. That made him an easy target, but he was a good person. He was kind, caring, and considerate. She liked spending time with him. They were friends.

Grace also felt weirdly protective over him. There had always been a pang of familiarity, but not because of who he was. There was something about his age that triggered something inside of her. It was as if a memory was clawing its way to the surface, but it was just out of reach. "Done with Slopper business for today?"

"Yeah," he said. "For the most part."

"For the most part?" She raised an eyebrow. "Don't let Gally hear that. He's a little bit crazy about the rules."