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THE REST OF SAMSON'S WORKDAY WENT BY SURPRISINGLY FAST. He had spent the last few hours of the job feeding all of the animals, which wasn't so bad. When Winston had eventually come to get him for quitting time, Samson hadn't realized how quickly two and a half hours had gone by. It had only felt like fifteen minutes.
He followed Winston out of the Bloodhouse and then they went their separate ways. For the first time in a few days, Samson didn't know where to go or what to do. He still had about an hour until dinner. He scanned the area for Nick, deciding to ask if there was anything he could help out with around the Glade but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he wondered if maybe he'd be able to get away with sneaking off to have a nap out in the woods. Samson turned himself around and towards the Deadheads. But on his way there, he passed by the Washrooms and remembered that there were showers. To Samson's disgust, he also remembered that he had not showered once since his arrival in the Glade. He glanced down at his arms and hands. They were covered in dirt, dust and animal feed. He even smelt like an animal, which made his nose crinkle up in horror.
With nothing better to do, Samson knew it was the perfect opportunity to take a shower. He stalked off in the direction of the washrooms, fingers crossed that nobody would interrupt him. The thought of undressing and showering around other teenage boys made Samson feel extremely insecure, even though it was something he knew he would need to get used to.
Samson pushed the door open, purposely swinging it against the wall to make his presence known. Inside, the room was empty. Rows of showers ran down the long hallway. There were benches on the left side of the room, as well as what seemed to be little changing stalls with makeshift curtains strung up over them.
"Who's there?" a disembodied voice echoed around the room. Samson lifted his head toward the voice and caught a boy's head sticking out of one of the showers further down the hall. He could hear the water running in the distance and quickly turned away from the figure.
"Sorry, I honestly didn't think anyone would be in here." Samson sat down on one of the benches, deciding he'd wait for the boy to finish up. He figured he'd only be a few more minutes. A distant memory passed through his mind, the cliche idea that boys took quick showers. Even if the cliche was true, Samson believed he was the opposite. He planned on scrubbing himself until his entire body was wrinkled.
"No worries," the boy came down the hallway with his hands on his hips. Samson hadn't even heard the water turn off, being too deep in thought. The boy had a towel wrapped around his waist and his dark hair was wet and dripped down onto his shoulders. Samson had met him at the bonfire, he was sure of it. But there had been too many names to remember, and that night the only name he'd wanted to remember was his own.
"Congratulations on getting your name, by the way, Samson," he said, grabbing a duffel bag that was lying on the ground below him, a smile creeping its way up onto his face. "I like that name. It's cool. What do you wanna be called? Samson or Sam?"
Samson watched him unzip the bag and pull out a pair of brown pants, some underwear, and a white tank top.
"Sam is fine," he replied with a light smile. He appreciated the boy asking.
"You probably don't remember my name," the boy chuckled, almost as if he had read Samson's mind. "Don't worry, I only know a couple of shanks names too, and I've been here almost two years. It'll be two years next month." he stood up and his eyes widened. "Two freaking years. Geez," he shook his head, throwing the clothes over onto his shoulder so they rested there. He went into one of the changing stalls and closed the curtain behind him.
Samson turned around to face the curtain, biting his lip. "What is it?"
"Huh?"
"Your name?"
The boy laughed, peeking his head through the curtain. "It's Leo." he flashed a wide smile at Samson and then stuck his head back inside the changing stall. Samson waited for him to finish, anxiously tapping his foot on the floor. Leo eventually came out, fully clothed a moment later. His wet hair had already soaked the top of his tank top. He was still smiling and grabbed his bag from off the floor.
"Well, it was nice meeting you. I'm sure I'll see you sometime again soon, the Glade is very small." he joked.
"Which job do you do?" Samson asked, relaxing his shoulders. He didn't know why she'd tensed up in the first place, Leo was a nice guy.
"I'm a Track-hoe. The best one, as a matter of fact," he winked, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Samson stood up and crossed his arms over his chest.
"The best one?" Samson repeated with an arched brow. Leo nodded sharply.
"Yep! You'll see when you come to try your hand at it. I don't know how Zart got elected Keeper," he scoffed. The two of them laughed awkwardly and then stood in silence for a moment.
Leo lifted his head suddenly, unzipping his bag again. He took out another towel, and Samson found himself wondering how he managed to fit three towels in his bag. He handed it to Samson and who tilted his head in confusion.
"There aren't any towels in here," Leo shrugged.
"Oh. Thanks," Samson said, hugging the towel to his chest. Leo nodded to him and then headed out the door without another word. Samson sighed to himself, smiling. He shook any and all of his thoughts away and headed to the back of the room towards the showers. He longed for the feeling of being clean.
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author's note!
this chapter is super short only because i had to cut an entire scene from the original bc it didn't fit w samson's story, so sorry about that...
anyways, i'm so happy leo has been introduced, i think you guys will like his character :) let me know what you guys think so far, and don't be afraid to comment! i want to know all your thoughts, opinions, even questions!
