CH. THIRTY - NINE
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Surprised, Joan looks up from her notebook. She hadn't expected Minho to join her up this tower. Neither did she realize someone saw her climbing up.

"Hi," he greets, sitting down.

She nods. "Hey. What's up?"

He shrugs. No 'the sky' reply or anything, just shrugs with some kind of sadness on his face. "Jim and Dan quit running today. Just me, you, Ben and Michael left."

Three more Runners to stop.

Yet the sadness on his face uneases her. She feels like a monster. Betraying them like this. Telling them there's Grievers everywhere and when they check it out, sending the Grievers at them but making sure they don't harm.

But they can't escape. They're safer here. It's for their own good.

"Oh," is all she manages.

"I don't know what to do," he says quietly. "I'm a useless Keeper. Takes me two years to figure out there's not even a way out. Then the Runners are just vanishing one by one."

"You're not useless," she says. "The outcome might not be good, but it's awesome you even managed to figure the whole Maze out, Minho. Exit or not, you did that and that's really good."

He shrugs. "Things have changed. No one seems as destined to find a way out anymore."

"Maybe there isn't," she mumbles.

There not being a way out has been the only theory that's wrong so far, but it still feels right.

Unless the Changing is just all fake and they make them remember fake things.

Oh, god— that would be an awful plottwist.

They sit in silence for a while, both staring at the boys below them. Some are walking around, some sitting as they speak, some heading off to bed... kinda entertaining to watch.

"Question," Minho suddenly says. The sadness in his voice has vanished completely, and so has the sad look on his face. In fact, he's grinning as he turns to her.

She raises an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"How's Gally, the annoying ass, in bed?"

"Minho!"

❀

"Oh, fuck! Camil, run— I mean, wheel!" Quickly, the girl pushes him forward, away from Gally and Alby.

It's a few months after she figured everything out, and the Greenie will arrive in a few hours. Except Camil and Joan decided to get back to the good old pranks.

"Dying my clothes pink is one thing, but attempting to get me to wash my hair with pink hair dye goes too far!" Gally yells from across the Glade, followed by Alby's yell, "Posters of my head as a bowling ball?!"

Laughing, the two sneak behind the Homestead. Joan lowers herself until she's the same height as Camil (meaning she only has to bent a little bit), then waits in silence, trying to hold back more laughs.

"I'm out!" Camil suddenly screams, right when there's a splash and she feels something wet drip down her neck.

Turning around, she sees the pink dye drip onto her clothes.

Gally's eyes wide in realization, he slams a hand to his mouth, and takes a step back as if he didn't do that on purpose.

Might be the glare she's currently giving him.

"You did not—"

"I'm sorry!" he peeps. "I wasn't thinking— well, your hair is dark anyways, it wouldn't be colored without bleach— but I'm sorry!"

"I am going to kill you—"

That stops him. "You won't," he says casually.

"I will."

His gaze gets a bit unsettling. "Okay, you sound pretty serious about it," he mutters, taking another step back. "But how come you're allowed to dye my hair but I'm not allowed to dye yours?"

"You're a man, I'm a woman."

"What? With all the respect, but that doesn't really make sense—"

"Sexist," she spits. "You're a sexist."

"No, I'm not. All I said w— Camil!" The scared, yet amusing look in his eyes turns into anger. "Oh, you're absolutely dead."

The boy wheels away before Gally gets the chance to even wipe the mud off his face, which Camil just threw in there.

"So you two can take a shower together!" He adds, already far away.

Well, that stopped Gally from killing him. "Hm. Smart-thinking. I agree for once. And you, woman?"

She crosses her arms. "Alright. Sure. But come closer, I just need to wipe that mud off your face."

He doesn't hesitate to show up in front of her. With her eyes fixed on his, she slowly cups his face and starts wiping the mud off... then grabs the bucket full of cold water, tosses it over his head, and runs away as fast as she can.

"Shower for Gally!" High-fiving Camil, she follows him into the kitchen, where they meet Ben and Fry.

Camil puts on an innocent smile. "Oh, hi guys."

Ben furrows his eyebrows. "What are y'all trying to ruin my day off? Also, what's in your hair, Joan?"

"It's a hair mask. Makes your hair super silky," she explains. "Wanna have some? I kind of put too much."

He gives a suspicious nod. "...sure."

With a grin, Joan smears some of the dye in his blonde locks, knowing this will set in for sure. "Perfect! Leave it for about an hour, then shower, and you'll even impress Minho the Hair Master."

"Hm." He rubs his chin. "Alright. Thanks? I guess."

"You're very welcome," she grins. Just then, the Box alarm blares through the whole Glade, catching everyone's attention.

"Ten dollars it's a boy!"

"We don't even have dollars, Fry!"

"Ten pancakes!"

"Nope!" Ben shakes his head. "It's definitely a boy!"

It would be very nice if it is a girl, though.

Joan is one of the firsts to arrive at the Box. But soon, plenty of boys have gathered around it, all waiting impatiently.

"If it's a girl, I call dibs," someone whispers.

"Yeah, Gally did it last time, so—"

"Dude, shut up. She's giving you a death glare."

"So what? She's even smaller than Hank."

"Careful what you say," another one murmurs. "Leo didn't really enjoy the bugs he found in his hammock after he said shit like this."

"She's crazy—"

"I can hear y'all," Joan announces. "And yeah, I'll put bugs in your sleeping bag if you don't shut up."

Gally seems to have finished washing the mud off his face, because he appears next to her. "Any problems here?"

The boys lower their heads, and Joan scoffs.

Before anyone can say anything, a click announces that the Box is ready to be opened, which Gally does. She tries not to blush at how good his arms look as he does that, and just waits for him to say whoever is inside the Box.

"Uh," he starts. "Gosh, this is disgusting. Newt, you can get him out."

"Hey, not so rude!" She yells down at him. "What is it?"

"He klun—"

But Newt shushes Gally before he finishes. "Nothing. It's just a boy again. Y'all can go back to work."

Joan jumps down the Box too. Immediately, a smell that's not the greatest enters her nose, yet she ignores it.

On the ground sits a boy, who's shaking. His bottom lip is covering the top one, silent tears run down his face, and there's a big wet stain on his pants. Brown curls on top of his head, big brown eyes, chubby cheeks.

But the worst thing is that this kid looks thirteen, if not twelve years old.

So young.

A small gasp leaves her mouth. Without hesitation, the girl bends down in front of the kid. "Hi, there."

Confused, he looks at her. "H-hey?" Before he bursts out crying again.

Joan sits down next to the kid. Wraps an arm around him, which makes Gally pull a face and Newt frown a bit, and lets him cry until he has ran out of tears.

"I think it's time for me to leave this," Gally murmurs. Of course he's the guy that doesn't know how to handle kids, or he's pretending to.

Newt finally joins besides Joan. "We'll give him the Tour together."

"Good idea," she agrees.

Another look at the boy, and the pieces connect. She has seen him, too. This kid is named Chuck!

But if she says that right now, it'll cause a lot of suspicions, so she decides not to.

"Welcome to the Glade, Greenie."

❀

"Here." After the whole Tour, Joan hands Chuck a jar of moonshine. Newt's eyes wide, and he shakes his head, but she ignores him. "Try it. Some say it'll make a man out of you."

After peeing his pants a few more times, the kid seems to have accepted his fate here.

"So you didn't drink this at all," he tries to joke. His hesitant tone proves he's not the most comfortable. At least he's trying, though.

She laughs. "If only it were like that. Come on, have a sip!"

Carefully, he puts the jar to his lips. His nose scrunches at the smell, and after a second, he already got the drink spitted out. "Ew! Whoever made that should stop doing it!"

"My boyfriend made that," she states.

His eyes wide. "Oh— sorry! I didn't mean it like that, just... I don't think this drink— it's not really my taste."

A chuckle. "Don't worry, Greenie. The drink indeed kinda sucks. And you're free to insult my boyfriend. Only you, though. Because I like you."

"Remember when you drank like eleven jars? Also, you don't like me?"

"I do like you, Newt, but you have no right to insult Gally because I say so! Only this kid can, and I can, but no one else," she decides. "I'll fight them."

"I think it's better if he defends himself instead of you doing that," Chuck peeps. "Isn't he that really tall guy?"

"But my way of defending is better," she grins. "I cut hearts in underwear, put bugs in sleeping bags, dye people's hair pink, ruin clothes... way better than fighting."

His eyes light up. Then he starts giggling. "Indeed, way better! Can I join doing that sometime?"

Progress!

"Of course," she promises. "We'll scare Gally when he's sitting on the toilet. That's gonna be awesome."

The thought already makes her grin.

Speaking of Gally—she turns her head towards him—he's fighting in the ring again, looking pretty awesome and strong, even though she always finds the game a bit... cheesy. Boyish. Weird.

Yet she also enjoys joining in.

Not today, though.

"He's grumpy," Chuck comments. "And you're kind of the opposite. He keeps giving me dirty looks while you gave me a whole tour! And you're really lovers?"

"Mhm," she hums. "But I'm not nice to every Greenie. I'm nice to the ones I like. Some boys are decent enough. I hate the rest."

"In her first weeks, she punched quite a few ones," Newt whispers.

Joan slaps him on the arm. "Shh! Don't scare the poor kid."

Chuck snickers. "I'm not scared of you!"

"Oh, yeah? Let's have a competition who chugs one jar down," she challenges, smirking. But obviously, Chuck shakes his head. "Be scared, or I'll dye your clothes pink too."

"But pink is quite nice."

"You!" She gasps. "Yes! I like this kid for sure, Newt. He likes pink, so I automatically like him."

"You'd think you'd hate pink to not seem girlish towards the other boys," Chuck says.

She shrugs. "Nah. I like to show my feminine side in every way I can. They've learned. Hate on pink? I'll dye your—"

"JOAN!" Entering the Bonfire with a bright red face and bright pink hair, Ben stumps towards her. "This is not a normal hair mask!"

Triumphant, she turns to Chuck. "See?"

With a pissed-off, yet little amused look, Ben joins their talk. "How long 'till this washes out?"

"It's not permanent, so it'll be gone in a month or so," she says. "It kinda fits you, Ben! Really brightens your eyes."

He rolls those eyes. "I'm sure it does. Pass me a drink?"

She hands him a jar. "Don't empty it. I want some more, too."

"Didn't you think it sucks?"

"Yeah," she looks at Chuck, "but it somehow is nice. After a year and a half, you get used to it and enjoy it even with the awful taste. I'm convinced Minho and Ben actually like the taste by now."

"True," Ben confirms. "Wanna get drunk together, Greenette?"

"Not gonna say no to that."

Even with last time's events, she doesn't mind. Sober, she barely has shame, so it won't make much of a difference when she's drunk.

Unfortunately for Ben, someone bumps into him, causing his drink to spill all over his clothes. "Ah, man! Now it's wasted."

Joan raises an eyebrow at Gally, who might have meant to bump into Ben, then crosses her arms. "What was that for?" she asks.

"It was an accident," he says.

"No, it wasn't," Chuck joins in. "You were already staring at us for a while. Kinda creepy. And then you bumped in on Ben on purp— okay... I think it's better if I keep my mouth shut."

"Gally!" She gives him a soft kick, stopping him from giving Chuck death glares. "Be nice."

"I'm only ever nice to you and there's no exceptions," he grumbles.

"You're nice to Fry."

His mouth opens, then stays open for a while. Gives her the chance to talk more.

"Ha, you got a soft spot for Fry!"

"I do not!"

"Yes, you do."

Newt rolls his eyes as Chuck watches Joan, then Gally, then Joan, then Gally, then—

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"I've only got a soft spot for you."

"In what way?"

Newt chokes on his drink. Reaches to cover Chuck's ears almost immediately, but the kid pushes him off.

"Both ways," he confirms easily.

Okay, he definitely had some drinks.

"Oh, yeah?" She asks, wiping her mouth. That was her third jar already, so perhaps she's a bit tipsy too. "Well, me too—"

Newt groans. "Can y'all stop?"

"It's been quite a while since we heard that. It's mostly don't stop."

While Joan laughs, Newt sighs. "Never thought I'd see a drunk Gally," he mutters to Chuck. "Don't listen to them. They've had too much to drink, and they're a bit... I don't even know."

But Chuck is enjoying the show with big eyes, so Newt gives up.