He always comes back around thirty past five. I've been bouncing from my toes to heels for twenty minutes straight, waiting, when he finally appears.

I stop bouncing. Cross my arms. "Why didn't you tell me bye?"

"Hello to you, too. Thanks for the compliments on how well I ran today, in the burning heat with sore muscles and a bruised face." He jogs past me. "I was in a rush," he then hints.

"But you always tell me bye," I repeat for the millionth time.

"Well, I'm very sorry that I didn't, okay?" Sighing, he wipes sweat off his forehead. He's walking so fast that I have trouble catching up. "I need water."

"You need to tell me bye everyday," I decide.

"I've been doing that."

"No, you haven't. Today, you didn't."

Minho spins around, annoyance all around him. "Zee, it's not that big of a problem! I've been running the whole day and barely got any sleep. Let me rest, gosh."

Before he can continue walking, I attack him with a hug. "You can't leave without saying bye," I sniff.

It takes a few seconds for him to soften in my arms. Once he does, he pats me on the back. "Okay," he says quietly. "I won't."

"You don't understand how scary it is to watch you go in there every day—"

"I think I do. It's not like I have no fear of not making out there alive," he says dryly.

"Yes, okay, but you don't know how worried I am every day." I roll my eyes. "So don't leave without telling me again, even if it takes waking me up early in the morning."

"But you become grumpy if I do that."

"Worth it." My arms tighten around him.

After a short minute of silence and holding each other, we let go. Minho tucks one of my braids behind my ears, eyes locked in with mine.

I take the paper butterfly from my pocket. It's a bit crooked and wrinkly by now, but I still press it in his hands.

He smiles so brightly that his eyes light up. "Thank you, Pua."

"You're welcome." The heat flows to my cheeks. "Okay, we'll get you water now. You should pack two water bottles from now on."

"Too heavy."

My eyes trail up and down, all over his body. "You're slowly growing taller, though. One day, you'll manage."

"Oh, trust me, I will. In a few months, I'm way taller than you," he says dramatically.

"Way taller goes a bit far," I point out.

"Definitely not. And I'll be stronger."

"On certain topics, not on all of them. You won't ever slaughter a pig."

"And you won't ever step inside the Maze again, unless you're forced to."

★

I only notice the smile that has grown on my lips when Minho gives me some kind of look that hints at it; his eyes trail up and down my face, and his eyes gain the same sort of twinkle Jeff had.

"What?" I mutter.

"Nothing."

"What's 'klunk', by the way?"

He leans closer to say it in my ear. "What makes a klunk sound when it falls into the toilet?"

"Poop?"

"Shit, in fact," he says. "Just say shit. Klunk is dumb as fuck."

"Got it." I nod.

He smiles at me.

I smile back at him.

★

"Hei Hei," I say, my eyes sparkling with delight. I can't help but bounce on my feet, holding back the laughter that threatens to spill out.

"What?" he blinks.

"Did you get the joke?" I peep, hopeful.

"No, I did not."

"I said 'Hei Hei.'"

"Yes, I did get that. The chicken from Moana, apparently my nickname. What's so funny about it?"

"I said 'Hi, Hei,' which could also be seen as the chicken 'Hei, Hei,' though technically, I should've said 'Hi, Hei Hei,' but then the joke no longer counts. So 'Hei Hei' also means 'Hi, Hei,'" I explain proudly, my smile wide.

It takes a moment for his brain to process that, and once it does, he frowns. "Worst joke ever."

My heart sinks a little. "I think it's pretty clever."

"I don't agree."

"Are you grumpy today, or are you always like this?"

"Neither," he spits out. "Leave me alone. I'm going to eat. Alone. Why are you even here?"

I look down, feeling a pang of guilt. "You seemed upset. I wanted to make sure you were okay because you seem to be my only real friend so far."

"We're rivals. Remember the deal?"

"But I don't want to be rivals. I want to be friends," I say, my voice softer than before.

I watch him lean against a tree, thoughtful.

"I thought a guy like you would want as many friends as possible," I add, trying to understand.

"I'm glad you think so, but no, thanks. I mean, I don't have to try to be popular; I just am, but I don't need a million friends that I don't even care for."

I squint at him. "First of all, why are you so arrogant? Second of all, why do you have trust issues or something? We've actually communicated a lot in the two days I've been here. That's not nothing. We can simply become friends."

"Yeah, okay. Fine, we become friends." He takes a bite of his vegetables and grimaces, his face twisting in disgust.

"You're rude."

"I just said we'd be friends. That's not rude."

"You said it with disgust."

"That's just the broccoli."

"Those are beans."

"Whatever. Both awful. Your point?"

"You don't want to be friends with me," I state, crossing my arms.

"What's that going to do? Break your heart and let me live in guilt? Change the whole earth?"

A scowl begins to form on my face. "Okay, no friends, then. You really are arrogant and rude."

I turn to walk away, feeling my shoulders slump. I can almost feel his gaze boring into my back. With every step, I quicken my pace, arms crossed tightly against my body.

I thought he'd want to be friends. He's pretty cool. Chiller than most guys here. They're annoying and stinky and weird. He's fine, I guess. Can joke around and understands sarcasm. Just goes overboard with... everything.

"Wait!" I hear him jog after me, and I turn to face him. "I do really want to be your friend. I don't know what made me hesitate."

"Yeah?" My face lights up.

"Yeah."

I relax, feeling the tension leave my shoulders. "Okay, awesome, Hei Hei. From now on, there is nowhere you could go that I won't be with you."

"Another Moana quote," he states dryly. "Am I going to be hearing those for the rest of my life?"

"I ate my grandma!" I mimic. "And it took a week because she was absolutely humongous!"

At that, I see the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. "I like that one."

"Of course you like that one."

"I'll consider actually doing it, as this food is horrendous. Fry might be humongous, but you know—meat's meat."

"You are horrible," I reply, but I can't help the bright smile that spreads across my face.

He shrugs. "There's just no telling how far I'll go."

"The song! You know it." My excitement bubbles over as I grip his shoulders. "Awesome. We should ask for a radio so we can play it while working. I'll slaughter that pig and sing, 'Every turn I take, every trail I track, every path I make, every road—'"

He quickly presses a hand against my mouth. "Yes, okay, Pua. Enough with the singing, you're embarrassing me."

"And you're boring. Don't you want to listen to music while running?"

"And attract whatever made George go crazy? Yeah, sure."

A giggle slips from my lips. "Just imagine running away from whatever it is with some motivational music."

"Fun until it becomes clear it also motivates that thing," he replies.

I grin. Then, we walk in silence, and I steal some of his food before looking back down at my plate.

★

"Where do y'all cut your hair?"

Alarmed, Minho straightens. "Don't you dare cut your hair off."

"Unless you find a way to properly style it, I will," I sneer. "You don't understand how annoying it is."

"I can understand," he defends.

And he crossed his arms to toughen up.

They should really stop doing that. All it does is make them look foolish because they're all the same.

"No, because you have short hair with no curls. You will never fully understand."

"You can take braids," Jeff suggests, unbothered. He's reading the back of a cereal box.

My face lights up. "Yes!" Then... down. "Where do I get my hair braided? Who can braid?"

"I can try?" Minho offers.

I look up and down at him. "I don't know."

"You don't trust me?"

"Not really, to be honest."

"What can go wrong?"

Ben swallows his food away before he says, "A lot."

"Thanks, a lot," Minho mimics. "I will ask the Box for a manual or something. I will learn. And then I can braid your hair. In real braids. Like... dozens of them, so you can keep it in for a long time."

"You'd do that?" I ask, flustered. My stomach is twisting in... I don't know— excitement, or something.

He nods. "Yeah, I would."

Wow. He's not all tough about it. And so far, I have learned that he means it whenever that happens. 

"Thank you!" I jump up to give him a hug.

"AAA!" Jeff throws the cereal box at my head.

"Hey!" I rub my temple. "I just healed from a concussion."

Minho climbs on top of the table to smack the boy on the back of his head. "Yeah. What was that for?"

"Her organs are falling out!" He panics.

"What?"

Minho trails his eyes over my body— "OH MY GOD— get Nick!"