I don't think I've ever been more anxious or tense.

I'm afraid to even talk to Minho. I'm afraid I'll mess it up and that he'll get me banished anyway. Afraid to ruin the chances I have of him becoming my friend again.

I'm afraid they'll find me. I'm afraid of facing them again, as they pretend to be my friends. That they'll hurt Minho for trying to sneak me away.

The mere idea twists my stomach into knots. The thought of him suffering because of me is unbearable. I can't shake the image of them dragging him away while they accuse him of harboring a murderer. I would never forgive myself if something happened to him because he chose to protect me.

Each moment feels like an eternity. I wonder how long I'm able to hide. Lying here, below his bed. The walls of this hut feel like they're closing in, and everything presses heavily on my chest.

The whole night, I have been shaking with fear and cold. After Minho gave me his sweater, I warmed up a little, but the floor was cool and my socks were wet from walking through the grass. I understand he didn't want to give his blanket or pillow. I'm still the girl he hates.

"Stay here," he says in the morning. "Don't move. If anyone comes inside, also don't move. And if they get a little too close to the bed, spread your arms and legs beneath my bed."

"Like Matilda? When Miss Trunchbull—"

"Yes, like that."

"Okay. I will. I promise." Was that too much? I need him to rely on me.

My voice is a little hoarse. Cold sweat drenches my clothes. Minho won't be in his bed anytime soon, so maybe he now will give me his blanket. Or anything to cover the hard floor with.

"Whatever just happened, blame it on the pig," I encourage before he leaves.

He stops. Turns around. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Moana." I crack a tiny smile.

"Right..." Minho doesn't really express how he feels about that. "Bye."

★

What if something happens to him in the Maze and he never comes back? My thoughts are beginning to turn into that because it feels like I've been hiding here for a little too long without him.

But eventually, the door opens and I recognize his shoes.

By now, a blanket is wrapped around me. Not physically, but a suffocating one. My whole body has become hot now, but it feels cold on the inside. My bones feel heavy, and so do my eyelids, but I can't sleep because of the hotness and coldness that I'm feeling at the same time.

"I've locked my door," he whispers, so no one around can hear. "You can stretch for a minute."

I have the urge to groan as I work my way on my feet, but I don't want to annoy him. For a second, everything shakes and I feel an unbearable heat, then I have a ton of cold shivers.

He looks me up and down. "You good?"

"Just feeling a little... not so good, but yes, I'm good." I nod as heavily as possible. Don't want to annoy him.

"I brought some water." He hands it to me like it's a bomb and very obviously makes sure we don't touch. Because I'm still the girl he hates. "This was all the food I could get." He throws an apple in my hands, along with a granola bar.

I gratefully drink the whole bottle of water, then the apple, and nibble a bit on the granola bar. Minho sits down on his bed in the meanwhile.

"What did they say?"

I heard the Doors close a while ago, so they must know I'm missing by now.

"I told Ben we would be running alone again. I hid in the woods all day. About an hour before the Doors closed, I grabbed your clothes and hair out of the Slammer. Then I snuck inside the Maze. Ripped your hoodie apart, splashed some blood onto it, and lay it down on the ground. Did the same thing with your shoes, but in another section. I left the pieces of hair in random places, like the ivy. You can see one of them if you look close enough by the Doors."

"Wow. Smart." I try not to physically show him how smart I think it is. Try not to smile too much. "Where did you get the blood, though?"

He pulls one side of his pants up a bit, revealing a bandaid on his leg. "They will never have to know."

I don't know what to say for a moment. Thanking him will sound weird. But I don't want to sound worried because he'll think I'm clingy and he'll hate that. "You shouldn't have cut yourself for me, but thanks," I say— a mix of both options.

"Yeah, better thank me forever," he replies. "The second I got out of the Maze, they asked me if I had seen you. I told them no. I believe they're still searching for you. Means the Runners haven't found your clothes yet. But they will, and then they'll believe you're dead." 

I nod, throwing the empty package of the granola bar in his garbage can. "I don't know how to properly thank you."

"Whatever." He waves it off. Gets up. Walks past me. Fumbles with some things on his desk.

"Can... can you please tell me why you're doing this, though? You hate me. More than any of the other Keepers."

"Correct," he says, to my disappointment, but expectation. He turns his back to me as he continues fidgeting.

"No explanation?"

"I don't have a proper explanation. I just... thought it was too cruel, I don't know. Couldn't live with it. I'm afraid I might regain my memories someday, and that I'll regret sending you to death. And I got a note from the Creators, telling me to save you."

"So... you have hope?" Even though I still feel dizzy and cold, my mood brightens a bit. "That you'll regain your memories and we can fix things?"

"I didn't say that," he responds, suddenly harsh. "I didn't say we can fix things. I'm just saying I don't want to take any chances."

"Sorry," I mutter, almost inaudible. The walls laugh at me. "I'll go lie back down. I'm tired."

He turns back around. "Tired after a whole day of laying down?"

"Can't help it."

Minho looks me up and down once again. "I think you have a fever or something."

"Not much we can do about that." I don't want to be a pain in the ass. "I'll go lie back down."

"You do that." He grabs a notebook off his desk as he sits down on it. I watch him, just for a moment, taking in the sharpness of his once chubbier face, the change in his voice, change in his height— then disappear back under the bed.

"Do you still think I'm obsessed and pathetic?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Alright. What about a ghost?"

"Certainly."

I shut my mouth only to open it a second later, "We should get an extra blanket. Hang it around the edges of your bed so no one will look below it on accident."

"Clever," he comments lazily. "I'll see what I can do."

I move, hissing slightly at the way the floor stabs my shoulder blades. My legs. My butt. My head. It's anything but comfortable.

I can see Minho's legs. He's sitting on his desk chair now—

A knock on the door.

He stands up fast. The chair nearly flies through the air. He grabs his sheets, pulling them down so that they covered the gap revealing me, just in case.

Then the door opens. "Hi, Newt. What's up?"

I almost sigh out in relief. I think Newt is the last person I have to worry about.

"We, eh..." Newt sounds upset. "We found a few of her hairs, stuck between the Doors. Then Ben came out of the Maze. He got her hoodie. It was ripped apart and bloody."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Newt's a bit too high-pitched. "I don't know when, but she must've escaped. Went out in the Maze herself and got killed by a Griever. But this morning, she was still there!" He sounds even more upset. "She was lying there. I hope she was asleep and not ignoring me. I told her that I felt sorry and that I wished things had gone differently. That I'd wish to get her out of there and replace her with everyone who voted yes."

He starts sniffing. The bed squeaks when they both sit down, like the buzzing I still hear all the time, and before I know it, Newt's crying out loud.

Because of me. I feel so bad that I just want to reveal myself and hug him. I silently hope Minho will break and reveal me. Would Newt betray us? I don't think so.

On the other side, it's really nice to hear that he's crying. Means he cared about me.

Did Nick even care about me? Or did he just hang out with me because he was bored as the leader, and decided the most fun person would be the less sane one? I think he was genuinely trying to help when he suggested the banishment, but it still hurts.

He knows all sides of me. He knows a big part of how I think, how I feel— that's why he suggested it. He knows I'm unfixable.

"It's all their fault," Newt sniffs. "She would've been alive had they not voted yes. We could've helped her. Now it's too late."

Minho remains silent. I hope he's at least comforting Newt.

"I don't even know why I'm crying to you." Newt is still half-crying as he says it, but he sounds hateful as well. "You despise her. You voted yes. You won't understand."

Minho doesn't reply again. I try to imagine his face expression.

"Why can't you let go of it? Why are you so obsessed with some made-up version of her? You know damn well it isn't real. We've been telling you since the beginning, and you refuse to listen. Why are you so pathetic?"

You're obsessed. It's pathetic.

And now Newt's calling Minho those exact things.

Is Minho feeling the same way I felt when I got told I'm obsessed and pathetic? I hope not. I was deeply hurt. I don't want Minho to feel like that, not even this Minho.

"Well?" Newt asks.

"She's dead now anyway—"

"It doesn't matter that she's dead now!" Newt seems to jump up from the bed. "You should put some respect on her name now that she's dead, that's what matters! You need to understand!"

"Why would I cause myself the pain of remembering now that those memories can never be recreated again?"

"Because- because..." Newt stammers. "I don't know! You should just do your best to remember or at least listen to us! To me. To Ben. To Fry and Gally. We all want Zee to be remembered in the best way! Because she was the best. For everything. And she was perfect for you. The only one who could make you quit insulting others. Only one who could make you apologize for things. Only one who could give you freaking butterflies!"

Minho gets up, too, now. "How do you know about the butterflies?"

"What do you mean, the butterflies? I'm talking about butterflies in your damn stomach— you told me you got those. Do you remember that? You came running to me after you kissed her in the woods because she wondered if you actually had the balls to do it!"

Silence falls. I notice a lot of silences fall lately, especially during tense moments. Even the walls are silent.

"No, I don't remember that," Minho says. "I'm tired. I'll see you tomorrow."

Newt stands rooted to the floor.

"I said I'll see you tomorrow, Newt," Minho repeats with more force.

After another second, Newt walks away, slamming the door behind him. Minho locks it immediately.

I feel the shivers return now that I'm less invested in my surroundings. That fever he was talking about may actually be there, indeed.

"You okay?" I ask, more worried than awkward.

"Fine," he replies. Even though he sounds snappy, it's not as snappy as I expected.

"Alright. Good night." I turn away, so I can no longer see him.