IF FRANKIE WAS having or getting mixed up in any problem and she wasn't in the mood to tell, her friends would just sit next to her and blabber totally unrelated topics to get their minds off it. Because once she set her heart, mind and will to not talk yet, she really would not talk.

And this time, she was determined to not talk with Minho.

Everyday, the Glade began to wake up at half past five. She was usually one of the the firsts to move into the shower (perks of being a girl and a respected Council), came out at six, grabbed her gear in the Map Room, had breakfast at six-twenty, packed her lunch, and still had enough time for a bit stretch before the Maze welcomed her with open doors.

Minho, being in her company since day one, of course knew her routine by heart. He stood in front of her designated bathroom stall at exactly five-fifty nine, though still clad in his sleeping attire, hoping for a chance to talk.

The door clicked open to reveal Adam, a Runner, who jumped on his feet in surprise.

"What the shuck— Dude, creepy!"

Minho frowned, "Where's Frankie? This is her bathroom."

"Didn't know there's a name to this stall," the Runner raised an eyebrow, "It was empty, so I showered here."

"Did you see her anywhere?"

"No. Oh, I heard about it," Adam grinned, "You're shucked, man. Breaking Frankie's trust."

"Yeah."

"So, are they really a thing?"

"What?" Minho furrowed his eyebrows.

"Frankie and Newt. She shed tears for him, right? Are they officially together now?"

"What?! No!" Minho didn't know why, but hearing Adam's suggestion actually caused anger to bubble up in his chest faster than he would ever run from a Griever, "They're friends!"

"I don't think so. She's a girl, after all." Before Minho could retort something back, Adam continued, "I'm gonna head to the Map Room."

The latter left.

With a troubled mind, Minho took a real quick shower and dashed into the Map Room. A few Runners were there, including Adam who raised his eyebrows in amusement ("Wow, he just entered the shower, like, two minutes ago."), but Frankie was not in sight.

Then he scooped whatever he needed for today's run and dashed towards the kitchen. Frypan greeted him with a smile and a plate of sausages, beans and scrambled egg.

"Fry, have you seen Frankie?"

"She'd had her breakfast. Came real early in the morning, looked ready to run. I think she went to the Grove with Newt."

"Oh. Thanks, shank."

"Nice job, Minho."

"Huh?"

"Setting her with someone, finally," Frypan smiled, "She keeps too much to herself, I was afraid she's gonna do what Newt did. Hope they help each other out."

Now his blood was boiling.

"They're friends. What the klunk are people talking about around here?" He spat and left the Cook stunned.

Gally, Clint, Nick, and Alby were at the table when Minho came by.

"Heard a rumor this morning," Gally muttered, "Builders were talkin' 'bout Frewt."

"What fruit?" asked Nick.

"No. Frewt. Some shank decided that Newt and Frankie had tied the knot together behind our backs for years. The others like the jacked idea enough to spread it around like wildfire."

"Crying over someone doesn't mean they're together. We cried over those we lost, doesn't mean we're shucking gay," Clint reasoned.

"Exactly!" Minho exclaimed suddenly, surprising everyone, "Thank you!"

"With us trapped in a Maze, a buggin' experiment, I don't think Frankie is looking for a relationship. Moreover, it's Frankie."

Minho puckered his lips together, arranging words to say.

And then Nick announced, "I'm going to see how they're doing. Minho, you coming?"

"Huh?"

"You were looking for her, right?"

He had been rendered confused and overwhelmed by foreign emotions multiple times today. Plus, people had been cutting through his response by leaving the vicinity too many times. But until he made terms with these raging feels himself, he felt grateful for the interruptions.

"Sure." Minho drove the last of his breakfast into his mouth, placed his plate over Nick's, and trailed behind the leader.

He peered at his watch. Six-fifty.

From far, he could see Newt sitting under an apple tree with a half-full basket beside him. Frankie was up on a branch, about five feet over the ground, picking the fruits and throwing them into the basket.

Frewt.

The rumor was they were together. The current view was they were (picking apples) together (in a very picturesque position as well, much to Minho's dismay). The two matched.

"Newt! Frankie!" Nick hollered.

"Mornin'!" Newt hollered back.

"Have you heard of the rumor?"

"It's not true, is it?" Minho said, "Need a Gathering, warn everyone to mind their own business?"

"I spent the whole morning demolishing the buggin' news. Still spreading, though. Frankie told me it'll pass in a few days, so I don't bother anymore."

"Frankie?"

Frankie swiftly went down the tree, grabbed an apple, and took a bite. "See you later, shanks. Newt. Alby."

"Hey, what about Minho?" Minho called out.

Frankie acted like there was nobody else around and took another bite from her apple.

"Oi! Frankie, I'm sorry! Frank—"

Frankie jogged faster towards the South Door.

"You're supposed to run with Ben! Hey!"

"I know I'm not supposed to laugh, but you're shucked. So shucked!" Newt gurgled.

Minho glared at him scrutinizingly, "This is shucking unfair. You're the slinthead who told everyone! Why is she mad at me?"

"You're the one who bloody told me!"

"I told you it was a shucking secret!"

"Did you?" Newt scrunched up his nose, seemingly in deep thought, "I don't remember you telling me that."