" WHITE BLOOD " T. MAZE RUNNER¹

ten.

[CHAPTER TEN]

~

The next day, Eleanor woke up while the sky was still dark. She could hear the faint grumbles of a grumpy Minho as he struggled to put on his shoes, the mattress of his cot squeaking under his weight. As she sat up in the bed, she could just barely see the outline of the Runner as he hunched over his shoes.

"Mornin', Greenie," he said without looking at her. "What are you doing up so early?"

"It's kind of hard to sleep with all of your racket," Eleanor retorted grumpily, stretching out her arms and yawning.

Minho shrugged. "Not my problem. I'm not used to putting on my shoes in the dark, usually I could have at least lit a candle or something- I never had to share a room before."

"Not my problem," Eleanor mocked him, shrugging as her lips pulled into a cheeky smile.

Minho turned around to look at her, and she could just barely see his lips pulling into a grin that matched her own. "Now that you're up, anyways, let's go see if we can snag anything from Frypan before breakfast."

Eleanor remembered Alby telling her that Frypan hated it when people raided his fridge, so she was kind of skeptical as she followed Minho towards the kitchen in the darkness. Though her stomach grumbled hungrily, and her mouth began to water as she began to smell the sweet scent of cooking bacon.

"Doesn't he hate it when people take food from him?" Eleanor asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Well, yes- but what he doesn't know won't kill him," Minho said with a shrug. He looked over his shoulder towards the girl, his eyes narrowed slightly and a sly smile on his face. "Why? Are you scared of ol' Frypan?"

Eleanor scoffed, glaring at Minho as the Runner snickered and turned back around. "No," she grumbled, though she quickly stopped herself from saying anything else as the pair neared the Kitchen. She could hear the clanging of pans and the chatter of the Cooks as they prepared the earliest meal of the day, and Eleanor couldn't help but admire them. They had the responsibility of cooking for everyone in the Glade- three times a day; it must have been a stressful job.

Minho put his finger over his lips as the pair neared the canvas overhang that served as the Kitchen. He glanced over his shoulder at Eleanor once more, pointing towards a plate of steaming bacon that Frypan had just set down on the wooden table. The hairy Cook had turned his back towards the food, joining a couple other boys as they prepared eggs and pancakes. Minho silently gestured for Eleanor to follow him, though he didn't bother to make sure she was before he quietly made his way towards the table. Eleanor stuck close to the Runner, crouching down and letting out a shaky sigh of relief once she reached the table. She could hear what the Cooks were saying now, and she couldn't help but smile as she listened to them gossip about Nick and Alby.