Jane 20

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Jane
I smile as Andrew entered the room and joined the end of the line behind me, waiting to be served dinner. Today had been a rough day, a lot of med-jacks were worn out, it had been packed in the infirmary today, people coming in one after another. I don't think Andrew has had much sleep since Pete. He's been pale and extremely quiet, bags under his eyes. His normally stormy grey eyes, were now a dull grey. His brown ponytail was unbrushed and extremely messy, like he'd rolled out of bed that way, which wasn't common for him.
'How are you?' he asks as he reaches me.
'I'm okay. Really busy today, huh?'
'Yeah.'
'You look...really bad.'
'I've heard. But you know, being keeper and all, I needed to help. There weren't that many med-jacks in the infirmary today. I couldn't just leave all you shanks in there to suffocate from all those slintheads who keep getting themselves hurt. You know, we've been having a lot more visits from the gladers than normal ever since you became a med-jack.'
I laugh and playfully nudge him, pushing him. He laughs and pushes me back, throwing me off balance. I gasp as I fall back, and almost crush into the boy in front of me, instead Andrew grabs my arms and pulls me towards him, causing me to smash into him instead. We stay like that for a few seconds, my body crushed against his, his hands squeezing my elbows firmly, then he buries his head in my shoulder.
'I couldn't save him.' I sucked in a breath as I realise what he meant. Not him too. He thought it was his fault that Pete was dead.
'Hey,' I say as I loop my arms around his waist and stand on my toes so that I could rest my chin on his shoulder. 'It's not your fault, he was injured too severely, there was nothing you could do.'
'I know, but I just feel really bad you know. I'm a med-jack, I could have done something, I could have saved him, somehow.' I pull away, aware of all the stares we were getting, and place my hands on his shoulders.
'It's not your fault. He'd already lost a lot of blood, there was nothing you could do. There's no use mourning over people you couldn't help, but there is use helping the people that you can. All those people that come into the infirmary, you can help them. And if there is another severe injury, there is no way you can say for certain that you can save him, but you can help by being more healthy and awake, when you do. So start by getting some proper rest and eating, okay?'
'Okay.'
I smile and move up my place in line. I look around the room and raise an eyebrow at those still staring, until my eye land on him. Newt, he was staring at me from his place at the runners table. His expression, something I couldn't quite figure out. I offer him a weak smile. He continues to stare. I turn around a move up the line.
'Hey,' greets Frypan.
'Hi, what's on the menu today?'
'Potatoes, pumpkin, and chicken,' he replies as he hands me a plate. I step aside and wait for Andrew as he receives his plate.
We walk out into the glade, and find a spot in the sea of gladers with the other -med-jacks. We set our plates on our laps, seated cross legged on the well kept grass. We ate silently, I watched them all as they chewed slowly before taking another spoonful, unlike Newt, Minho and the other runners who ate like the world was about to end and the only way to survive was to eat all the food of the plate as fast as you possibly could. We didn't talk much while we ate, which I missed since I would normally be laughing at something Minho said this time of the day or shouting at Newt in order to be heard over the other runners.

After a while, most gladers had finished their food and gone off to shower or do something else, the walls were closed and I was still sitting in the middle of the glade with my plate still half full. I sigh and push around the food on my plate.

I hear footsteps behind me and turn to see Newt walking towards me. He flops down next to me when he reaches me, taking the plate from my lap and shoves a spoonful potato into his mouth. He knows me well.
'How was your day today?'
'It was okay, you know the usual cleaning up blood and bruises. How were the runners-in-training today?'
'They were pretty good. A lot of them would make it if it was just based on the physical stuff.'
'Oh really? What else do you need to have to be able to be a runner?' I ask.
'Well you need to-'
'Newt!' a voice that sounded a good distance from us called. We turned to see a small figure standing in front of the homestead. It was Alby, he stood beckoning for Newt to go to him. Newt smiles at me, 'I'll talk to you later,' and he walks over to Alby.

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