21. what an idiot

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What in the world..

As it turned out for the group, Bertha was actually a car that Marcus had named, and well, Jorge stole against Marcus' protests. The sun was shining down on the many people within the sandy world that was called the Scorch. Bea tried to used her brain, but it's hard when you got a whole freaking sun shining down on you like it doesn't give a shuck.

Reaching to the car, Newt and Nancy called out, "Dips on the shotgun!" As they both raced towards the door, they soon ends up with an argument within eachother as Newt tried to bit Nancy's hand, resulting Nancy cringing away from him and slapping his hand repeatedly.

"Let go!" Nancy shouted, using one of her leg to kick Newt.

"I had it first!" Newt argues back, slapping Nancy's head repeatedly.

"I'm faster, so it's mine!"

"How? You don't even have a leg!"

Vicky sighs annoyed as Bea laughs, silently enjoyed the fight. Jorge walked past them, "Alright, alright. Break it up, niños, niñas." Pulling away from the door, Newt took the opportunity to pushes Nancy away, making the girl stumbled across towards Teresa.

"You're such a 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘳, Newt." Nancy growled, good thing she doesn't have her axe and guns right now - Soon enough, after Nancy calmed down, they all took their own seat as Jorge began to drives off, Newt obviously besides him.

Bea seat silently next to Thomas on the back, seeing that there's only two seat only. Bea's back were facing Vicky's back as she too was squashed in between Thèrèse, Minho, Aris and Nancy. Teresa, Frypan and Brenda were right behind Jorge and Newt.

Bea gave Thomas a side glance, seeing the boy staring out the window besides him. She nudged him too harshly with her elbows, Thomas hiss in response, rubbing his rib. "Ow! What is wrong with you?"

She still didn't face him fully, "Let's play a game."

Thomas scoffs, rolling his eyes. "I can't believe you talked me into this."

Bea pouted, well her eyebrows pouted, her lips were sharpening in thin line. Getting no response from the girl, Thomas sighs, giving in.

"Alright, alright, what is it?" Thomas said, turning his body to face the girl as his side hit the seat. Bea beams at this, "Alright, I just remembered this one game that I used to play with Thèrèse back at the facility."

Thomas nodded.

"It was called 𝘉𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘭. I will give you an example of two words then, it'll ended with real and not. Other how, it's for you to found out what was real and what was not. Alright, I'm gonna give you an example: Book is real. Cherry is not."

Thomas narrows his eyes in confusion, "What?"

Bea rolled her eyes, slumping herself backwards. "I'm gonna give you one more example, then you figured it out on your own." She said, before her tone started to get low, motioning for him ti come close. "Once you understand, then we'll use it on the others."

Thomas nodded again.

"Alright. Barbecue is real. Dog is not."

Still not a clue.

"Ball is real. Zebra is not."

"Still not a clue?" She asks, flicking his forehead. "Come on! This is the easiest game I've ever played! Ball is real because of what? And why is Zebra's not real!" She whined. "Um, I'm sorry?" Thomas said, not meaning for it to sounded like a question. "Alright, alright. One more." She said, glaring into his eyes.

"Butter is real. Poster is not."

Thomas press his lips together, shaking his head. Bea groans, throwing her hands up, "Of course he hasn't got a clue, who am I kidding, he's Thomas." She murmurs, turning to the other side. A moment of silence as Thomas taps Bea's arms. "Are you okay? We can play again, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Bea mumbled, still not facing him. He's actually the only one Bea felt at home. Sure, it's weird, Thomas was not fond of the girl at the beginning. But seeing her and the rest of the girls working as a team, together. Thomas figured that there was something inside of him that he sees in her.

"Are you mad? You look mad." He started. "I'm not mad." Bea said, failing to hide the scowled in her tone. "Your face is screwed up like you're mad." "I'm perturbed, not mad."

A moments of silence.

"You still look mad." Thomas mumbled. "I'm NOT mad! But I will be soon!" Bea grumbled, her fists clutching onto nothing.

Trying to cheer up her mood, "We can play it again? Come on, give me one more example." He said, sounding more serious. Bea looks at him for mere seconds, then at the window. Grunting, "One more?" He nodded as response. "Alright." Bea said, giving in as she turns towards him, preparing for her words to be the next clue:

"Beatrice is real. Thomas is not. 𝘉𝘦 real."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑,     𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝘇𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿Où les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant