" WHITE BLOOD " T. MAZE RUNNER¹

thirty-one.

[CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE]

~

Early the following morning, Eleanor found herself sitting in the all-too familiar Council Room inside the Homestead. Newt had asked the girl to attend the Gathering in his place whilst he stood in Alby's place, and she happily obliged. Eleanor was a nosy girl, and she wanted to hear what the Keepers had to say about Thomas and his excursion into the Maze. The Greenie was sitting beside her, his hands fumbling in his lap and his face flushed red with sweat. He was obviously nervous, and Eleanor didn't blame him; several boys that sat in the Keeper chairs eyed his with distrust and frowns on their face.

Newt was on the other side of Thomas, his lips pulled into a flat line as he glanced at Alby's empty seat beside him. His shoulders rising as he sighed, the boy stood from his seat with a subtle roll of his eyes. "In place of our leader, sick in bed, I declare this Gathering begun." His voice raised above the others, immediately bringing the conversations to an end. Eleanor couldn't help but snicker quietly at the look of pure boredom on his face, for she knew that Newt hated formality. "As you all know, the last few days have been bloody crazy, and quite a bit seems to be centered around our Greenbean, Tommy, seated before us."

"He's not the Greenie anymore," Gally spoke up from his seat beside Minho. "He's just a rule breaker now."

Several boys mumbled their agreements, which only made Thomas shift uncomfortably in his seat. Eleanor glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, only to see his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

"Gally," Newt said lowly, eyeing the grumpy Builder with an eyebrow raised. "Try to keep some buggin' order, here. If you're gonna blabber your shuck mouth every time I say something, you can go ahead and bloody leave, because I'm not in a very cheerful mood."

Gally folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair with a scowl, and Eleanor saw Thomas's face turn even redder as if he was fighting back a laugh. Newt stared at Gally for a moment longer, his eyes narrowed as if challenging the boy to speak again.

"Glad we got that out of the way," he said with yet another roll of his eyes, turning his attention back to the full group of Keepers. "Reason we're here is because every lovin' kid in the Glade has come up to me in the last day or two either boohooing about Thomas or beggin' to take his bloody hand in marriage." He glanced at Minho for a quick moment as he said this, a subtle smirk on his face. "We need to decide what to do with him."

Gally leaned forward once more, though Newt cut him off before he had a chance to say anything.

"You'll have your chance, Gally. One at a time. And Tommy-" he turned to look at Thomas, a stern look stretching across his features. "-you're not allowed to say a buggin' thing until we ask you to. Good that?" Thomas hesitated a moment, as if he didn't want to agree with Newt's order, though he soon nodded nonetheless. The blonde boy then turned towards the crowd of Keepers once more, pointing towards the far corner where Zart was seated. "Zart the Fart, you start."

Several boys snickered at the nickname Newt had given to the Keeper of the Track-hoes, and Zart shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His face was as red as the tomatoes in his garden, and Eleanor couldn't help but notice that he seemed as though he didn't want to speak in front of all of others.

"Well," he began, and he looked around the group of Keepers as if looking for someone who would tell him what to say. "I don't know. He broke one of our most important rules. We can't just let people think that's okay." His voice trailed off, and the Track-hoe looked down at his hands as he rubbed them together. "But he's... changed things. Now we know we can survive out there, and that we can beat the Grievers."