Before Thomas {A Maze Runner Fanfiction}

S2-Ep9: When You're Bored

Tyn was practically unapproachable after the incident, and Elizabeth kept her distance to save herself from further embarrassment. She missed talking to him, but...it was awkward. It was awkward with some of the others, too, P.F. and Dalton teased her whenever they could during Running. For some reason it made things that much more entertaining for them. She tolerated it in the beginning, and then it just got old.

"I don't see how it's a big deal," she told them one day.

"Of course it's not," Dalton replied, "not really, anyway."

"But that doesn't mean it can't be," P.F. had added with a snort.

Really. It was pretty immature. She let them get away with it, though, because she understood that being cooped up in a Maze for a year meant things were always the same. It was so boring nowadays, even with the dying crops and pigs. Even when said maze was wasn't much to do other than bet on wrestling matches or walk through the Deadheads as if you hadn't explored every inch of them before. There was only so much Glade a person could take.

Elizabeth and the other Runners weren't the only ones feeling restless. Frypan had started more experimentation with his alcohol-which involved mixing baking soda and sugar-water together for "taste." Jeff and Winston had started crafting together a mannequin made of wood, pillows, and anything else they could find to practice on. Nick declared he was leaving the Runners and Track-hoes and started flitting around with the other jobs. He wasn't any good at cooking or with the Slicers, but he found he appreciated building more than he used to. Unfortunately, he and Gally but heads a lot. According to Newt, there was many-a-time that their arguments could be heard throughout the whole clearing.

"USE THIS END TO POUND, YOU STUPID SHANK!" Gally.

"DON'T SHUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO DO OR I'LL BASH YOUR HEAD IN!" Nick.

Honestly. Elizabeth wished another girl would be sent up by-either by accident or on purpose-one day. There seemed to be only so much testosterone she could take. Even Newt got on her nerves sometimes, and she loved him more than she could explain. She loved all of them in a different way, of course. They were family. But Newt...well, of course he would be different.

"What'cha thinking so hard about?" P.F interrupted her thoughts. She realized she'd been holding her sandwich for quite some time now, without eating it. They'd stopped for lunch and were leaning against the side of the Maze. Minho was on lookout, though he had his own, half-eaten sandwich between his fingers instead of his Griever-sword.

"Daydreaming about a certain Track-hoe again?" P.F. snickered and Elizabeth felt her face go hot.

"I was not!" She totally had been. "I don't think about him as often as you think I do!" She totally did.

"Girl, you're lying through your teeth," Dalton said. P.F. nudged him and they giggled together some more. Elizabeth found herself rolling her eyes.

"Bloody hell, you're acting like schoolgirls. Most of my daydreams are about, you know, girl stuff." She was just digging a deeper hole for herself. And since when had she started saying bloody hell? Newt's face popped into her head and her blush deepened. They laughed harder like they could read her mind. She wasn't going to hear the end of this.

"Would you shanks stop bothering her?" Minho suddenly said, "I'm getting tired of all that Newt crap because of one time they kissed and we heard about it."

Thank you, Minho, Elizabeth thought.

"Find something else to laugh about," Minho stuffed the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. Elizabeth smiled smugly at Dalton and P.F. whose expressions had turned sheepish. She was about to gloat, but then Minho cut her off with a glare.