You woke up the next day thinking the same thing. 

When will I get a new job? Will anyone pick me?

Newt stirred beside you in his hammock and you couldn't help but smile. He opened his brown eyes and smiled at you.

"Okay, shanks, let's get on with it and not stare at each other's shuck eyes." 

Ugh.

Minho.

You rolled off of your hammock and glared at the runner as he smirked, leaving the tent.
Newt also got up and left, leaving you alone to change and get ready.

------------------------------------------------------------~+~---------------------------------------------------------------

That morning, Frypan made eggs and bacon, which was soggy as usual, but tastier than his soup, which was just nasty. You are up quickly and went to work with the medjacks. Clint and Jeff never seemed to be rude to anyone, except Gally, but who isn't?
You happily skipped through the homestead, opening the door to the medjacks section.

"Hey Clint. Hey Jeff." 

You half-yelled, not seeing either of the two within hearing range.

"Hey Y/N. What's up?" 

Clint answered from another room. He walked in with a cloth, wiping blood off of his hand.

"Oh, I'm okay, but I might be a little uneasy now, seeing that."

Clint chuckled and handed you the towel. 

"Could you maybe put this in that pile over there? Thanks."

You picked it from his hands, using only two fingers, and threw it hastily into a pile of dirty rags and towels.

"So, what am I doing today?" You asked.

Clint looked into the other room for a second, then came back.

"Winston needs care. The shank almost cut his arm off. Dangerous job to be a slicer."

"Oh yeah, I know that. Surprised I didn't end up here."

The truth was, you didn't really like being a slicer because of the slaughtering, not the actual danger of hurting yourself. And not to mention, Winston kind of freaked you out.

----------------------------------------------------------~+~-----------------------------------------------------------------

At the end of the day, Alby had called a meeting, and at the moment, you were sitting with Sam, a kid who was nice and not involved with the meeting. 

"So what's your job? Track-hoe? Slicer?"

Sam shrugged. "It's not really important. What do you want to be?"

You raised your eyebrows at his awkward short answer.

Why is everyone so vague?

"Um, I might want to be a Track-hoe or maybe runner, just to be away from people, but I'm not really sure." 

Sam nodded. He pointed towards the meeting hut.

"Do you know what the meeting is for?"

You shook your head. Honestly, you didn't really care, but most of your friends were there, so you only had Sam to talk to.

"They're picking you for a job right now. The keepers, the one that picks the Greenie, or you, is your new boss, kind of. If Zart picked you, you would be a Track-hoe under him. If, ugh, Gally chose you, you would be a builder under him. And if Minho chose you, you would be a runner. And be secluded from us all day."

He added with a very fake looking smile.

You giggled, but almost choked on your own breath when an arm grabbed your shoulder from behind.

"Sam, who is it?"

But he only pointed behind you with a scared expression. The arm pulled you and turned you around, so you were met with dark and intense eyes. 

Minho. That shank.

Sam started laughing behind you and Minho started to smile, then laugh out loud. Your face was soon flushed red with anger at the two and you slapped Minho. 

"You scared me half to death, you shank!" 

But you had to admit, both of their laughs were contagious, and you soon laughed. But as you turned to walk away, you saw none other than Newt, sulking and walking to the homestead.

You ran to catch up, and grabbed his shoulder.

"Newt, what's the matter?"

He turned and looked you right in the eyes.

"Greenie, they've made you a runner."