"Be careful," I whisper as I hug him.

"Will be," Minho promises. "I won't die."

"Better not."

With a smile, he pulls away. "I'll be careful and I won't die."

"Good." I pat him on the head.

He scowls, an expression that makes his eyebrows knot together and lip jut forward. "Don't do that."

Shrugging, I laugh softly. "You'll have to grow taller for me to stop."

"I can't control that." He crosses his arms.

"Just eat a lot of spinach."

"Ew."

"Come on," Ben calls impatiently from behind Minho. "We have to go."

My friend waves him off. "Yes, yes. Coming. Bye, Pua!"

"Bye, Hei Hei!"

I watch them until they have disappeared behind the first corner of the Maze. Then I spin around—

"Woah! Jeff!" I jump backwards, startled.

The boy stands there, grinning widely and clearly enjoying my surprise. "Hi, Zee."

"Is there something... wrong?"

"Nope."

"Okay. Then I'll go... get to work?" I say slowly. "Do you need anything?"

"I need to tell you something, yeah."

I stop. Raise an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Look." Jeff sighs, placing a hand on my back so I start walking with him. It's warm against my skin. A weird feeling that I don't enjoy as much as Minho simply touching my hair so he can braid it. "I saw something."

"That's... not very extraordinary," I point out.

"I saw something I'm probably not supposed to tell anyone about but I can tell you because it was you who I saw."

"Oh." My cheeks grow red. There is only one thing he can be so secretive about. "Did you see Minho and I— you know?"

He stops. "Ohh, so that was it!"

"Huh?"

"Wow." He palms his face. "Now I understand."

"I don't understand, Jeff."

"I'll explain. So, Stan and I went frog hunting, when we suddenly saw you. You were standing against a tree, lips forward, eyes closed, as if you were kissing someone, you know? Except there was no one. But now you mention you kissed Minho, I'm thinking you were either daydreaming, are schizophrenic, or are delusional— which, now that I'm thinking about it, all comes pretty close to each other."

"What?" I gape at him. Blink at him. Stand rooted to the ground. "It wasn't real?"

"Oh." His face falls. "I thought you knew it wasn't real. I'm so sorry." Now both of his arms wrap around me. They pull me into a tight hug. "I'm sorry for being the one who told you."

"I don't... what— I don't think I understand. It wasn't real? I imagined it? Somehow?"

"I think so," Jeff murmurs, slightly sad. His eyes are wide with sorrow. "Maybe Clint can diagnose you. He will become our first ever doctor, did you know that?"

"No— I— what?"

There is no way. It felt so real.

But it's not like Minho ever really mentioned it after that. Not this morning, at least.

"I'm sorry, Zee," he says again. "Come, I'll try to cheer you up by... well, what food do you like?"

"Eh, I don't know— Jeff, you're not... are you joking?"

He shakes his head. "Of course not. I'm not that cruel. Let's go ask Fry for a dessert or something."

Confused, I follow him to the new kitchen. Half of it is inside the Homestead, except for a bar and some tables in front of it. That's where we stand in line for food. But this time, Jeff leads me inside the kitchen.

"Oh, hi, guys," greets Fry. "What are y'all doing in my kitchen."

"Zee needs something to heal her heartbreak. She imagined kissing Minho because she is so desperately in love with him and thought it was real. She might have schizophrenia, we're not sure yet. But she's devastated."

"That's a bit too extreme," I say. "I'm not devastated—"

"Aw, poor thing." Fry hugs me. "What food do you like? You know what, I have some leftover desserts. That will do it."

Jeff sits me down at the unsteadily built table. "It's okay. I'm sure you're not the only one who it has happened to. I actually think Alby had the same issue, except he imagined you!"

"What?"

"Yeah, man, he's in love with you," Jeff mutters.

Fry's head pops back next to mine. "Is he?" He asks Jeff.

"Mhm," Jeff hums. "Ask Stan. He knows all about it."

"Dang." Fry turns back to the fridge. "Do you like chocolate cake?"

"Yeah, but—"

It gets put down in front of me before I can finish my sentence.

"...thanks, Fry." As if will explode any second, I take it.

"Oh, and can't forget Nick. Nick told me he had a dream about him and Newt that he thought was real for at least two weeks! He got so upset when Newt somewhat hit him in the face for trying to kiss him."

"Oh. Poor Nick."

"Right?"

Fry sits down next to Jeff, the chair squeaking as he does so. "I didn't know that."

"I'm just the source of gossip, it's not your fault," Jeff assures. His eyes trail to the big gap in the wall, AKA the bar where Fry gives all the Gladers his food, and he straightens. "NEWT!"

I turn around to look. Quite some distance away from us, walks the blonde boy. He perks up when he hears his name, then starts making his way to us.

Soon, Newt is sitting next to me. "Eh, hi. What did you want to say, Jeff?"

"Just wanted to invite you on our talk. Zee is heartbroken because she imagined kissing Minho and it ended up being unreal."

"Ah, that's... sad," Newt says, frowning. It only grows deeper by the second. "But last night, Minho told me—"

"—that he loves you," Jeff finishes.

So he was doing that instead of giving me that really fast kiss?

"So Minho is in love with Newt?" Fry asks.

"Maybe." Jeff casts a look at me. "Sorry if that's the truth. Can I have a bite of that chocolate cake?"

I scoot it over to him. It's not even that nice—no offense, Fry. Immediately, Jeff devours the whole thing.

"Jeff, this is disgusting. Eat normal," Newt comments.

With his mouth full, Jeff replies, "Mama Newt."

His cheeks gain a little red at that. "I'm not a mama."

"What are you then? The president of the Glade? Gay—probably. The master of the Grievers? Or just a boy."

The small shades of red now turn into a whole red face. "Stop it."

"I'm just asking."

"Well, it was highly inappropriate to ask."

"Oh, you speak so dearly, Newt, the gay master of the Grievers and the president of the Glade!"

What was red before now turns into a deeper red. It's embarrassment and anger and everything at once. "What do you want me to do then? Curse you out like a bloody maniac?"

"Hm." Jeff wipes his mouth. "That'd be quite entertaining."

"Well, okay, then." Newt gets off his chair. "I don't know why you're calling me over here just to insult me and call me gay as some sick joke. Probably because you think you're funny, which you're not. You're pissing me off right now— no, all the time. Zee, you did not imagine kissing Minho. The only one who probably imagined something was Jeff with his delusional ass, kissing Clint, because oh, so, so hilarious that there is a chance he might be gay! The news of the Glade, let's put it in the paper. Now, Jeff, leave me alone and don't call me over anywhere for no reason again. Actually, just leave me alone in the first place. Everyone leave me alone in the first place."

And then he storms off.

Oh.

All three of us sit there, in silence, eyes wide, mouths half open in shock, trying to say something, but unable to find the right words.

"He got up on the wrong side of the hammock," Jeff whispers.

"I have never seen Newt angry— well, I have, but not this... personal," Fry adds, also whispering.

"I'm going to check up on him," I decide.

"Didn't he just say we all have to leave him alone?"

"It's another way of saying he wants a hug," I say.

"How is that..." Jeff trails off.

"I'll let you two figure that out while I talk to him!" Then I hurry after Newt. He's stamping towards the woods, fast-paced. "Newt!" I holler, sprinting after him.

He also speeds up. I catch up with him by the time we're already far into the woods, maybe even further than I was with Minho yesterday.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

Newt finally comes to a stop. Relieved, I gasp for air. "No," he admits.

"Do you want to talk about it? A hug? Just my presence? No one's presence?"

He shrugs.

"I like hugs. I can give you a hug." I reach forward. Newt doesn't decline, so I keep going, and stop when my arms are fully around him. "Is that nice?"

For a second, everything is silent, then he breaks down.

Quiet, but audible sobs. His hands clenching around my shirt. Knees buckling until I force us down to the ground, where he continues crying.

I rub his back for who knows how long.

Once he has stopped, his eyes are red and shimmery, cheeks stained with tears, and nose runny. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. We all cry."

"I don't think Minho cries," Newt says.

"Hm." That makes me think for a second. "He probably does. Just all alone, at night, in complete silence."

"Well, either way, no one here cries. And then there's me, who cries every second of the day. It feels like that, at least."

"It's okay to cry, Newt. I think I prefer boys who show emotions. Rather that than heartless ones."

"I'm not made for girls."

"I didn't mean it romantically."

Surprised, he looks at me.

"What?"

"You reacted very, very casually."

"To?"

"To what I said."

"Because you didn't say anything wrong," I say sternly. "How do you think I would've reacted?"

"Like everyone will."

I lift an eyebrow.

"They will laugh at me. Things like that. Just like they're doing right now."

"Jeff's jokes are kind of sick, I know, but I can assure you that no one will laugh when they find out it's the truth. I will make sure of it!"

He manages a small chuckle at that.

"And that outburst was kind of cool. I hope it made Jeff realize some things."

"I hope so, too," Newt sighs out. He runs a hand through his hair, then rubs his nose. "I just... feel sad. Like something is missing. This place is horrible in the first place, but I still can't stand the thought of staying here any longer."

"Sooner or later, Minho and Ben will find a way out."

Speaking of that, he never mentioned a secret path, and it's been past a month! Where are my promised desserts? Because I did slaughter a pig by myself.

"I bloody hope so."