FINALLY, AN EVENTFUL day arrived at the Glade.

Chuck had been peering at the silent Box from the moment he opened his eyes, wishing that the new Greenie would arrive faster than they usually would.

"Are you gonna be here when the Greenie comes?" He asked Frankie.

The answer was kind of obvious. She was already dressed in her complete running gears and Minho were packing their lunches a few tables away. But, in spite of that, she still answered him: "No."

"Am I gonna be his buddy, just like what Hank did for me? Who's gonna give the shank the Tour? I wonder what he looks like! Or could it be a girl, so you won't be too lonely here?"

Frankie let Chuck rambled on because she loved how his eyes lit up due to too much expectations.

"Can't wait to see the Greenie, are you, shank?" Minho interjected. He passed Frankie her backpack, which is already loaded with her usual utilities and lunchbox. She put the straps on her shoulders wordlessly and stood up next to her Keeper.

That sounded cringey.

But right.

"Yeah!" Chuck cheered.

"Well, since you're not the Greenbean anymore, you better take care of whoever comes in that Box."

"Good that," Chuck saluted, "Don't die in the Maze."

"Wow. Very motivating, Chuck," Minho rolled his eyes.

"Thank you."

"Come on, Frank. We better hurry up."

"Okay. Bye, Chuck," Frankie bid goodbye with a little wave then jogged to catch up with Minho. In no time, they were already running between two tall walls that made up the stony corridors.

Frankie took out her notepad every time Minho stopped to cut three vines and made an arrow shape with them. Truthfully, her notes looked more like a child's scrawls than writings. Minho tried to understand her notetaking method a few times before, but he gave up. He could only rely on his sharp memories to help Frankie with their map model every evening.

At noon, the two of them touched the last dead-end wall at the exact same time, chuckled a bit, then strolled towards the Cliff with their hands brushing against each other but not entwined.

"Nothing new, again," Minho gruted, stretching with both arms lifted up and back a little bent backwards.

"We'll get out soon," Frankie tried to provide him with consolation.

"Yeah. Just wondering how soon."

It frustated her, how dejected the Keeper of Runners sounded.

"You can't give up, Minho."

"I'm not giving up," Minho frowned, "Who said anything about giving up?"

"Your tone."

"Well, I'm not, slinthead."

After that, they walked silently.

Frankie stepped once to the left so there was some noticable space between Minho and her.

When the Cliff was visible from where they stood, Minho reached out his arm and grabbed her balled fist. "Sorry. I'm just tired of this shucking Maze."

Frankie said without tearing her eyes off him, "Okay."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too," Frankie paused as she sat down by the edge of the Cliff, "I can't have you being hopeless when everyone's looking up to you."

"I'm just being honest of my feelings with you. Only you."

"I know. That was my word of advice."

Minho raised his eyebrows and scowled, "Advice? Sounded more like a warning threat to me."

"It came out wrong," she said apologetically. He grinned back in amusement.

They pulled out their boxes of five strips of bacon, a huge scoop of mashed potatoes, and a mount of sauteed vegetables.

"Looks like Frypan packed us a shucking feast," Minho grinned.

"Maybe he's feeling generous today," Frankie smiled back, "By the way, Nick told me once that there's always something new every day."

"Yeah? New day, new month, new Greenie —he told me that, too. Truth to be told, anything not in the Maze is new."

Frankie thought twice for a few seconds before she pecked his cheek. She looked down on her lunch, blushing and hoping it worked. "That's new in the Maze, right?"

"Ew," Minho said teasingly, but he couldn't stop smiling hugely, "You got pork grease on my cheek."

Yes, it worked.

"Shut up."

"Can I try something new, too?"

Frankie looked up. He looked giddy in his seat and there was something in his eyes. No, it wasn't mischief. What was it? Expectancy? Eagerness? But he was patient enough to wait for her consent.

She didn't know if nodding was a good choice, but she was too curious to let him get away without telling her what he was up to.

Minho's hand sneaked up to the side of her face. His calloused fingers stroke her jaw, her cheek, her hair, then he pulled her head closer just as he dipped forward. And their lips met.

An endless firework show erupted within Frankie's chest, electrifying every single nerve. She was caught by surprise. Second by second, though, the warmth of the firework and Minho's steady hand spread throughout every cell in her body. Her eyes fluttered close and she moved, syncing hers with his.

It felt like forever when they pulled apart for air. Yet both felt like another forever could never be enough.

〰️

THE GREENIE'S NAME was Thomas.

He was unfortunate enough to be welcomed by Alby the snappish, immediately got on Gally's bad side, met Ben during his unfinished recovery, and had Chuck the Immature Blabber Mouth as his buddy.

Frankie observed him from afar during the Celebration. She sat against a rogue log with Minho, facing the flickering campfire, while Thomas were hanging out with Chuck and Newt right across of them.

"Slicer, right?"

Frankie looked at Minho, "Huh?"

"Looks like he has good posture and strong arms. The shank is probably a Slicer, right?"

Frankie didn't answer first. She looked at the brown haired boy with extra scrutiny, and noticed some gait she found somehow familiar.

"Should I guess?"

"Of course. That's why I ended the sentence with a question 'right?'"

"I say," she had one end of her lips raised knowingly, "He's a Runner."

"Is that a bet?"

"Okay."

"So, if I win, can I get another kiss?" Minho smirked.

Frankie slapped his bicep, smiling, "Shuck off, klunkhead."

"Then it's a deal. Slinthead."

They laced all their fingers together, like the strong bond of praying hands, and spent the rest of the night holding on to each other.

She plopped onto bed that night with the feeling of his warm hands still etched on her fingertips and his handsome (but don't tell him that) smile printed in her mind.

Then she closed her eyes.