You shucking hated his, smug, sarcastic, arrogant shucking face. You were sick of Minho constantly putting down your work as a track-hoe. You weren't a runner, so freaking what?! You couldn't all be I'm-so-athletic-look-at-me-I'm-a-shucking-Runner-worship-me, could you? But no, it was always "aww, look at the slow little track-hoe", "if the Grievers came for you you'd be shucked", "too bad you can't use your legs for anything but transporting dandelions". Next time he said any of that klunk, you were slapping him. No, actually. You'd kick him in his bloody holy-ground shins. See how he shucking runs then.

As it happened, you got your chance the day after you'd promised yourself that. You were in the deadheads, dumping the weeds you'd annihilated that day, and you heard a branch snap behind you. You turned around and saw that handsome, arrogant klunkhead smirking at you. Wait, what? No. He wasn't attractive. Ok, maybe physically, but on the inside he was definitely a rotten apple. Definitely.
"What do you want Minho?" you asked, sounding exasperated.
"To piss off my little slug of course! Get it? You're found in the garden, and your reeaally slow." he chuckled back. Slug? Slug?!
"I'll show you how fast this shucking slug can go!" you hissed at him, and jumped forward, nailing him in the shins, just like you wanted to.
"Shuck you!" you stalked off, back to the Glade. That should teach him.

LJ x