"𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨"

𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙠𝙚 arrives back at her hammock, sitting down with her elbows resting on her thighs. Her hands clasp together by her mouth as her leg bounces. The girl's face etches with worry and confusion as her thoughts wonder to the greenie.

𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘴? 𝘐𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?

Her foot stills as she tries to push her thoughts away. Blake wasn't good with change, usually—she would open the greenies with open arms and not be so closed off, but this one is different. Once they had shaken hands, Blake got her first memory back.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸?—𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘮?

A twig snaps to her left, making the girl whip her head around to the boy— who the small girl had just been thinking about.

"You okay?" Thomas asks in a soft whisper

The brunette girl fixes her posture and clears her throat. "Yeah, just drank too much...." Blake says as her eyes flicker from her hands to the greenie. "Why are you here?—Shouldn't you be, I don't know...celebrating?"

Thomas blinks at the girl's sudden mood change—she's aggravated for some reason.

"I uh..just wanted to make sure you were okay; saw you walking off..." Thomas says as he shifts his feet.

"Well, I'm fine, 𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙨." The girl says, turning her head to the boy with a blank expression. "I'm going to sleep— so if you don't mind...I'd like to do that."

"Yep, got it," Thomas says as anger boils in his stomach.

Turning on his heels to leave, he quickly whips around to face her. "What's your deal with me?"

Blake shifts on her hammock as she turns her head toward the boy, scrunching her features. "Nothing—I just want to get some sleep." She says, shifting back over—away from the boy.

Thomas stands awkwardly in the same spot as his hands fall on his hips before running a hand over his face in agitation. Realizing the girl might be tired, he turns back on his heels.

That night, Thomas lays in his hammock, staring at the hut's ceiling as his eyes turn to peer at Blake sleeping.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦?

The following day, Blake wakes up at her usual time, grabbing her set of clean clothes and heading to the showers.

It was a Saturday, meaning most gladers had the day off. Alby gives them one day per week to rest and help around the glade. They used to not have any days off, but Alby had noticed a handful of runners growing exhausted and ending up injured because of it. So he ordered the runners to relax for a day to avoid getting injured or worse. After all, they need as many runners as they can get.

Blake walks into the showers as she hears one of the faucets running. 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘰

The girl goes to grab one of the fresh towels. She throws it over one of the stall doors, placing her clothes onto the hook for her to grab—once she is done. The girl opens the stall door and turns the knobs to her preferred temperature—before realizing she forgot her brush.

"Shit," Blake curses to herself as she darts out of the stall—running over to the sink, she grabs her brush. Turning on her heels, the girl sprints back to the shower but slams into a...wall?

Blake's eyes widen as she realizes it, in fact, isn't a wall. Her eyes slowly rise to see the greenie staring down at her as his hands steady her waist.

Blake's eyes grow wider as she scans over the brunette boy in front of her. 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵.

Although Blake wasn't particularly fond of the greenie, she couldn't deny how attractive he was.

Thomas stands in front of her only in a towel with a light smirk, tugging at his lips as he looks down at her. His brown hair falls over his forehead as water beads trickle down his face. Blake gawks at the towel hanging dangerously low on his waist.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Thomas teases with a smirk as he brushes past the girl.

Blake blinks, her gaze falling into a glare as she brings her eyes back up to his, scoffing at his newfound confidence: 𝘖𝘩, 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰.

"Who clunked in your cornflakes this morning?"

Her remark only amused Thomas as a slight smirk tugged onto his lips again. "Nobody, but it seems someone shit in yours last night."

Blake scoffs before she turns around and walks back to her shower, shutting the door.

"Fuck off, greenie," Blake says, anger flickering in her voice as she strips her clothes off.

"Why does everyone keep calling me that?!" Thomas grunts in agitation.

"Because you're the newbie." Blake explains as she throws her clothes over the stall door.

"Yeah, well—why doesn't everyone just call me by my name?" The boy continues, not able to hide the annoyance in his tone.

Blake laughs at the boy's agitation. "Well, greenie, technically, you just remembered your name last night."

Silence fills the room as Blake steps under the water, sighing as the water meets her skin.

"True, but why do you keep using 'greenie'?"

"Because I can... 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙚. Now, please shut your shuck hole and let me shower peacefully."

Blake lathers her hair with shampoo as she hears the bathroom door slam shut, smiling to herself as she finally gets some peace.

Later in the day, Blake leans against a tree as she watches the boys bicker over a game of 'glader ball.' The boys all stand in a group arguing, most shirtless and sweaty from running.

Blake spots Gally yelling at Zart—who apparently made a "shit call." Giggling at the builder's agitation, Blake's shoulders rise up and down as she notes Gally's veins pop out of his forehead, throwing his hands up in question as he continues to yell.

Alby had decided to give the rest of the gladers the day off to celebrate the new greenie as some of the boys started the game.

The boys made up the game one day when one of the gladers found a ball that had come up in the box—It had started just throwing the ball around, and then— it turned into tackling. Soon enough, the boys made rules to play the game and even pulled some of the other gladers into refereeing to make the game 'fair.'

It was somewhat of an escape from the feeling of being trapped. It was a way to get everyone's mind off of the chances of not getting out and to have some fun.

Blake feels the breeze lift her curls away from her face as she spots Minho walking over with a smile etching his face.

𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰...Blake smiles, rolling her eyes at her best friend.

"Hey princess, wanna come play some glader ball?" Minho asks as he stops in front of her with his hands on his hips.

"Not right now, Min. I'm relaxing."

"Oh, come on. A bunch of guys with their shirts off, and you don't want to be near them?" He teases as he throws his hands out in exasperation.

Blake rolls her eyes at his attempt. "It's way too hot, Min. I'm just chilling for now," the girl says with a pause, "and besides, I can observe the abs from here." She continues, smirking.

"Who? Thomas' abs?" Minho asks

Blake glares at the boy before her, "Min, really? I can barely stand the guy."

"You were literally gawking at him all yesterday! As soon as he came up from the box, it looked like you wanted to—"

"Minho! Don't you dare finish that sentence!" The girl growls

"What?" He smirks, knowing he hit a nerve.

"I don't like him like that, and besides, I'm just—stressed, okay." She says as she lifts her hand to brush her fingers through her hair.

"Want me to help? You know—release some tension?"

The girl's hand instantly freezes, and her mouth hangs open at the boy's comment, blinking rapidly in shock.

Blake grabs the shoe off her foot, throwing it at the boy in front of her. "Get out of here, Min! Shoo! You shuck face!"

Minho laughs as he dodges the shoe, his hands flying up in fake surrender as he turns on his heel to run back to the game—The runner notices a certain greenie glaring in their direction. Minho's smile instantly grows bigger, knowing he caused the frown on the greenie's face.

Later that day, the dinner bell rings throughout the glade, signaling to the gladers dinner is ready.

Blake gets up from her spot to make her way to the kitchen, spotting her favorite boys chatting at the table, well, all her favorites—except for the greenie.

Grabbing her plate, she slides down in her seat next to Minho. Newt sits diagonally from the girl, with Chuck on his left and Thomas on his right—leaving the greenie to sit across from the girl.

Blake rolls her eyes as she shoves food into her mouth. Minho holds in a laugh at Blake's agitation, knowing she isn't too happy with the newbie sitting at their spot.

"How's the day been treating you, princess?" Minho teases the girl as he breaks the silence, bringing his fork up to take a bite.

Blake glares at the boy, smirking; she opens her mouth to retort back at Minho's comment but sees Thomas holding in a laugh. Blake feels rage flow through her body as she tries to refrain herself from attacking him.

"What are you laughing at, 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠?" Blake scolds

Thomas' laugh fades into a slight frown as his eyebrows raise. "I don't know what's got your panties in a twist, 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨."

Anger bubbles inside the petite brunette as she narrows her eyes at the boy in front of her. In a split second—she darts over the table, grabbing the greenie by the collar of his shirt, making him stand up with her as she brings his face inches from her own.

"You don't get to use that nickname, 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙚. Now sit back down and shut your fucking mouth before I do." She says, gritting her teeth. The small girl pushes him back into his seat as he tenses in shock. Thomas was taken off guard at that comment and honestly a little flustered.

Across the table, Minho can't help but chuckle as Newt sits beside the greenie, hiding his laughter. Thomas' jaw clenched, and his gaze hardened as he glared at her from across the table.

"How about we tone it down a bit—Shall we?" The British voice causes the girl to huff as she continues devouring her food.

Newt shifts his gaze between the two as they stare each other down. "What's the deal with you two anyways?"

"This shank is my deal." Blake snaps

Thomas' eyes burned into Blake's as the tension grew thicker—Blake flashed the greenie a quick smirk to push him even farther on edge.

Minho glanced over to Blake, scanning her features. He knew exactly why Blake was acting out.

𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥.

Thomas hasn't done anything to upset the girl...but the memory she got back scared her—even though she would never admit it.

"Well, you two need to make amends before you both end up in the pit." Newt says, cutting through the tense silence. "I don't know what happened—or why you don't like each other but—"

"I have my reasons." Blake cuts in, breaking eye contact with Thomas as she quickly grabs her plate, standing up.

Blake ignores Newt calling her name as the boys look between each other, confused.

Thomas' eyes lingered on Blake, every step she took until she disappeared from view.

The boy sighs exasperated as his arms folded over his chest, leaning back in his chair.