Subject A250: The Fangirl (COMPLETED)

Three: Thunderbolt and Lightening= Very Very Frightening

It had been a long, boring first day of work in the Glade, and everyone was feeling quite uninspired. Trace had been tending to the gardens when Zart struck up a conversation with her.

"Have you ever wondered why it never rains here?" he asked. "It would certainly save us a lot of work, right?"

She shrugged, knowing all too well the reason it didn't rain: the sky above them wasn't even real.

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe we're in a desert somewhere?"

"Maybe. I could go for just a little rain right now. To shake things up a bit. Nothing much has really happened here over the past few days."

Trace had to stop herself from telling Zart not to jinx it. Not to trigger Teresa's arrival or something equally as crazy and unwanted.

No offence, Teresa.

"So you're picking rain to shake things up?"

"Well, okay. I'll shake it up a bit. Thunder. Lightening. Yeah, a lightening storm or something. That'd be so cool! Terrifying, but cool!"

She rolled her eyes. Trace was kind of glad Zart didn't get much book time; he had a habit of getting too excited and becoming annoying. Plus, she really didn't want him to jinx anything.

"Seriously, how incredible would that be? Can you picture it? The whole sky filled with beams of lightening? It'd be like our own firework show- oh hey, Minho."

Trace stopped shovelling and swivelled around. She hadn't even noticed Minho arriving.

Which was usually something she noticed.

Because he was gorgeous.

She was determined to find his hidden hair salon too.

"Hey guys. How's it going? What are you talking about?"

"Lightening storms," Zart said, with too much enthusiasm.

Trace froze, trying to maintain her composure. She could not discuss this with Minho. Her memories of The Scorch Trials' events were still vivid in her mind.

She couldn't talk about lightening with Minho.

"Go away."

"What?"

"Leave."

"What the hell, Greenie?" Zart butted in.

"Yeah, what gives you the right to tell me what to do?" Minho looked more offended than you'd ever seen him.

"I just- you can't- the lightening- you're not- it's-" she tried, but failed, to come up with a reason for Minho to leave the discussion.

"You know, it's only just struck me now that you're not as nice as I thought you were."

Trace was silent. This was not happening.

"You're really not as flash as you think you are, Greenie. Here I am, little old Minho, trying to have a nice shuck conversation with you, and you fire back, telling me to leave? I won't stand for that."

She couldn't find the words to reply even if she wanted to. Minho continued.

"I'm leaving now, Greenie, but don't take this as a win. I ain't bolting. I'm off to plan something big. You've made the wrong enemy in this shuck place and you're going to regret it. You think I'm angry now? Just you wait; this is the calm before the storm."

Trace held her breath, waiting for his final statement.

"And there will be a storm like no other."

Zart left, Trace said nothing more, and dug herself a hole and sat in it for the rest of the day.

Maybe someone will mistake me for a potato and leave me alone, she thought.

I could become the Glade mascot. The Glade Potato. I could forget how to feel emotions and live here forever, motionless and emotionless in this hole. It sure would be easier than being a fangirl.

Then she remembered that Newt, Thomas and Gally weren't mad at her yet and she still had a shot with them.

A chance, not a shot. Definitely not a shot. No shots allowed. Ever.

She had a chance with them.

She'd probably have to stop pretending to be a potato to do that, though.

So, she climbed out of her hole and walked off through the Glade like nothing had ever happened.

She heard someone yell as they fell into the hole behind her, but she kept walking. She envisioned herself with sunglasses on and the person's yell as an explosion. It made the whole thing seem a lot cooler than it was.

Yeah, her life was kind of a mess right now.