SONDER (IV): tmr thomas

002: I would forgive

Dawn 2

The rest of the days blur into a week, as time slowly passes around us. No one talks much. We sit around and let the silence soak into our brains. Minho hasn't tried to apologize to me, and I have only barely cast him a glance.

I'm surprised that during this week, I find my brain empty. They must've shocked the thoughts out of my head. Not that I had many to begin with, but still.

On the seventh day, the day I expect mutiny, WICKED let us change clothes when we wake up. Like, they roll out a clothing rack early in the morning into the girls' room, and when we wake up, we rush over to it. I grab a striped shirt and black pants, and another jean jacket, like the one I had in the Scorch.

The shirt is striped black and white. I don't know why I'm drawn to it, but I am.

After I shower, I stand in the mirror, staring at myself. I used to do this is the Glade; watch myself and then braid my hair. Each strand I would wrap delicately one over the other. Today, I leave it down, soaking my shoulders.

They cattle us all into an auditorium, with rows of seats reaching higher into the sky than I imagined seats could go. While the other girls discuss where to sit, I brush past them and find a seat in the back row. Michelle follows up after me. She raises an eyebrow but sits down next to me.

"Are you sulking?" She asks, a chuckle in her voice.

"No," the word spills out of me too fast.

"I didn't think that argument with Minho would last this long," Michelle rolls her eyes.

"You are one to give me relationship advice," I hiss.

She snaps her head towards me. Her cold icy eyes search my face as she bites down her tongue. "I think you have forgotten that my relationships ended because of death and illness, unlike yours."

Michelle stands up quickly, and moves down a few seats, closer to the front.

She brushes by Leo, who finds her way up next to me. She too scans my face, but I turn my head away.

Newt and Minho enter the auditorium later, with the boys. Newt turns to join us, but Minho grabs him and gestures for him to join Fry and the rest. Even Jay, who was definitely on my side, joins them.

"Minho knows you were right," Leo offers, leaning in next to me. "Newt wanted to plan a fight this morning, but Minho decided against it."

"He should have the guts to tell me his bloody self," I roll my eyes.

"You can't be angry forever," Leo tells me, as if she honestly thinks I can't. "You know that you'd been so heavily electrocuted that day-"

"That it's my fault?" I demand.

"Minho was also beaten severely a few days prior and told all his friends were dead because he wouldn't pick one to save," she tells me. "I'm actually pointing out that the fight was not your fault, nor his. Not exactly. The continuation of this argument, is to be quite honest, getting to be a bit much."

I look down at Minho. He is chatting with Newt, but when he glances up at me his face stills. I watch him swallow, refusing to break eye contact. His eyes are as dark as ever, as encompassing, and his face as soft.

"Would you shucking look at that?" Fry calls out, turning to the doorway.

I break eye contact with Minho, though he doesn't look away from me. My gaze follows Fry's fingertips, pointing out the front door.