Both Pasty and Minho were up early the next morning, and raring to run. Pasty was eager to get going but Minho rolled his eyes at her.

 “You need to be prepared. Do you think you can go running in The Maze without any weapons, or food, or water, or decent running shoes? Come with me.”
 Pasty followed him to a small room, full of stuff. There were weapons hung up on the walls of all different shapes and sizes. Slingshots, knives, swords, bow and arrows, axes and maces, glittering in the dim light of the room, smiling at her. She ran her fingers over them in awe.

 “Can I have anything?”

 “Yup. Just make sure it’s something light that you can carry. We don’t use most of this stuff, it’s too heavy to run with.”

 Carefully, Pasty lifted a curved knife that looked like it would be good at killing and attached it to her belt. Then she tested the strength of a slingshot and decided it could be handy. Surely if she lost her knife in battle, there would always be something in The Maze she could put in the slingshot.

 “Come and help me search for some shoes. I don’t think there are any small enough for ya.”

 Pasty found a set of eight drawers, all named. She came across the one labelled Minho and opened it without a thought. She snorted at the sight of a pair of stretchy white underpants. She waved them above her head mockingly and Minho blushed beetroot.

 “You didn’t mention underwear, Minho,” she said through laughs.

 “Well, you don’t need em. These are only for guys, ya know…to keep us nice and comfy.”

 Pasty howled with laughter, doubling over and Minho snatched them from her grasp in embarrassment.

 “Slim it, sister. I ain’t going to be teased. We have work to do. Here, try these shoes on. They are the smallest we have.”

 “What are the smallest pants you have,” Pasty snorted. Minho couldn’t help smiling as Pasty tried the shoes on. While she wasn’t looking, he watched her closely. Since they had held hands the day before, his mind was totally occupied with thoughts of her. A risky thing, and he knew it, but he tried to push that to the back of his mind. And of course he didn’t let on. But it didn’t stop him loving the way her hair was hastily pulled into a ponytail, the way she tied bows on her trainers, the twinkle in her eyes when she was making jokes about pants. When she stood up he pulled her into a hug and didn’t let her go for quite a while. Eventually, he managed to pull himself away.

 “What was that for?” she asked.

 “I’m scared today is going to go horribly wrong.”

 She took his hand, and he felt his pulse raise “Don’t worry. I know I’m safe with you.”

 She leaned slightly closer to him, and for one tiny moment, he thought she might kiss him. But then she dug him in the ribs playfully.

 “Come on, shuck face. Let’s get a move on.”

 They arrived back early that evening and hit the Map Room. When they had done that, Minho went to go shower, but Pasty decided to explore a bit. She retraced her steps back to the Door which her and Minho had entered the Maze earlier that day. The walls loomed over her scarily and she knew better than to think she was safe. So when Gally tapped her shoulder she almost klunked her pants.

 “Gally! What the hell are you doing, shank?” He rewarded her with a scowl.

 “I was just going to come over and say hi.”

 Pasty raised an eyebrow, but decided it would be best to be on good terms with Gally, or at least not bad terms. However, she was surprised to see that he looked a little nervous, like something was bothering him.

 “Umm…want to come sit with me?” he asked.

 “Uhh…kay.”

 He awkwardly sat straight down in the middle of the path and Pasty crouched down beside him.

 “So I hear you are a Runner now?”

 “Sorta. I’m training with Minho anyway. What is it you do?”

 “I’m a Builder. I feel sorry for you. Having to hang out with that prick all day.”

 “He’s not a prick. He’s my best friend here,” Pasty frowned.

 “You don’t know him. But I guess you would see it that way. The shank fancies the pants of you.”

 “What?”

 “Yeah! I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Making gooey eyes all the damn time. You ain’t interested, are ya?”

 Pasty was shocked, but tried to cover it with a shrug, suggesting she wasn’t fussed.

 “What about…what about me?”

Crap, Pasty thought. What is he hinting at here?

 “I…I’m not sure what you mean.”

 “You know exactly what I mean.”

 Pasty fidgeted.

 “Well…um…you’re…I’m…I mean, you’re…you’re not…you’re not.”

 “Not good enough for you?” Gally snarled.

 “No! I mean yes! I mean…that’s not what I meant…”

 “I should have known better than to think you would ever like me. You think you’re too good for me, just because you are a Runner. You think you’re so special. Well, you know what? I can be a Runner too.” He scrambled to his feet and ran out into the Maze. Before Pasty had had time to react, he was at the end of the long corridor. He waved mockingly at her from afar.

 “Come back, Gally, please!” Pasty begged “You got the wrong idea, I’m sorry. It’s not safe. The Doors are going to shut soon!”

 “And what would it matter? The Grievers seem a better option at this moment in time! I can’t even look at you, you make me sick, Pasty!”

 He looked like he might say something else, but was cut off by the sound of whirring. It was metallic and a completely klunk-in-your-pants terrifying noise. Gally’s eyes widened in fear.

 “No,” Pasty whispered.

 Grievers.