1. Welcome to the Glade.

The first of my senses to have been attacked, in my very first memory, was smell. Everything felt and smelled squalid. It took me a second to realize how dark it was, so much that I couldn't even see my own hand in front of my eyes. I was about to stand up when I heard numerous triggers and metal clanking.

And before I could try to recognize the sounds, the cage —it felt like a metal cage— started rising at bullet speed, kind of like an elevator. I chose to stay put, rather than risking a fall with my organs all down my butt. My heart was hammering in my chest, my mind was racing, I felt like I was about to throw up. I could feel my body quaking in fear and anticipation.

The ride felt like it was going on for twenty minutes, and the initial shock started fading by then. Instead, I was impatient to be over with it. The clanking had started to feel like it was happening a millimeter from my eardrums. I started seeing when a red light turned on at my destination. It was still yards higher but I could finally use my eyesight. I wasn't the only thing being delivered, as I saw boxes and fabric bags on the other three corners of the elevator.

I had made up my mind to go and check what the boxes contained when the elevator stopped suddenly, sending me nearly a foot in the air, and triggering an ear-splitting, alarm-like roar. I hadn't noticed that the lighting was intensifying until the journey stopped. I stood up and dusted what I could of my clothes before getting startled at the light suddenly turning off and turning back on in green.

Next thing I knew, a blinding light shot inside the cage and the alarm-like, blaring sound stopped. I shielded my eyes with my forearm as they tried to adjust to the sudden change. At first, I caught a male chatter but as what I guessed were the doors opened further, the talking stopped. I blinked several times to give my eyes the opportunity to adapt before risking a look outside.

All around the square opening stood boys. Not younger than twelve and not older than perhaps twenty. They had looks of awe— maybe shock? I couldn't quite place the emotion in their eyes. I subconsciously took a step back. They all looked like they had never seen a girl before, and that made alarm bells go off in my brain. One of them, a dark-skinned boy— easily the oldest, shushed the dawning and unintelligible murmurs before throwing a rope toward me. I subsequently saw the hook it had instead of an end, and eyed it suspiciously.

"Put your foot in the hook, we'll pull you up," one of the other boys spoke in a British accent.

I frowned. I most didn't want to find myself among twenty teenage boys.

"D'you think she understands?" Another dark-skinned boy wearing an apron asked.

My frown deepened in annoyance as I took deliberate steps toward the rope and did as told. My heart hammered incessantly in my chest as I felt them heaving me up to wherever they were. I tried remembering when was the last time I had been the only girl among so many guys, but found I couldn't. I tried remembering anything at all, but every passing thought escaped me like water rushing down a sink. I was overtaken by a slight panic as I saw the grass all around. I sat on the edge of the opening and stood up as quickly as I could, before any of them deemed me unable to stand up by myself. The last thing I needed was one of them to lay a hand on me.

I took a useless look around, as my vision was still hazy. Stress was slowly but surely taking over me as I started walking away from the compact group of boys, ignoring every sound that came from them. I struggled to keep all fear off of my expression when I was finally away from them.

The oldest, dark-skinned boy walked toward me slowly, his hands raised as though to reassure me. So I did look scared, "Hey, it's okay to be afraid. But we're not gonna hurt you, okay?"

I asked the first question that came to mind, "Are there no other girls?" Before squinting at my own idiocy. I could've slapped myself. Out of everything to ask, really?

He came closer to me and I took a step back, he stopped, "Er no. No, you're the first girl to come up the Box."

I frowned and took a hesitant step toward him, to show I wasn't completely terrified of him, "Where am I?" I asked, trying my hardest to keep my composure.

He gestured around him, "This, here, is the Glade, okay? I'll explain everything in your tour."

I pressed my lips into a thin line and nodded. Before I could ask further questions though, I felt a rush of movement to my right. I turned sharply to see a black dog running toward me. My first reflex was to shuffle on my feet, but then I saw it wagging its tail and something told me not to be afraid of it. I waited until the animal reached me and started sniffing me. After a tense minute, the dog wagged its tail again as it threw its harm legs on my chest in an attempt to play. The first smile I ever remembered having crossed my face as I caressed the dog's head, between its ears.

"Well, looks like we ain't the only ones happy to finally get a girl," one of the boys spoke, immediately wiping that smile off my face.

"Shut your hole, Fry! She's scared enough as it is," the dark-skinned boy scolded.

I had millions of questions rushing through my head, so I tried pushing the dog off of me. It stood on its four legs for a moment before jumping at me again.

I let out a breath of a chuckle as I started murmuring to it, "All right, down now. We'll play later, big boy."

Something told me the dog was male, as active as it was in its adult size. I tried remembering where I had learned that, but like everything else I knew, I couldn't figure out when or where. Surprisingly though, it obeyed me and stepped back a few steps, still wagging its tail. I decided to turn my attention to the gaping boys then. I had to deal with them, at some point, as badly as I wanted it to be over with.

My lips parted but I didn't quite know what I ought to say or ask. I instinctively folded my arms over my chest and spoke to the guy, "What's your name?"

"My name is Alby," he replied calmly, "what's yours?"

I opened my mouth and inhaled sharply to answer, but found I couldn't. What was my name again? I frowned at the grass before blurting out, almost unwillingly, "Elizabeth."

Alby smirked, "Welcome to the Glade, Elizabeth."

"Yeah, welcome!" Another guy tossed, raising his hand.

"Where's she gonna sleep?" A third one piped up, but I couldn't distinguish who it was.

"Slim it! Get back to work, you slintheads! The supplies ain't gonna unload all by themselves," Alby shouted at them authoritatively. Everything about him screamed: «Leader».

"You're the leader?" I asked, without exactly thinking about it beforehand.

"Yeah," he grunted frustratedly. What the heck was this sudden mood change?

Three, rather well-built guys jumped inside the cage— what did he call it, again? The others slowly separated, each taking a different direction, their eyes never leaving me. I shifted my weight on my left leg and tapped my right foot on the ground repeatedly. Alby walked closer to me, nearly in my personal space. He was soon joined by another who skipped toward us with a staff he used to lean on. His right leg was heavily bandaged, too.

"Aye Greenie," I recognized his voice as the British guy who was the first to speak to me. He extended his hand toward me, "I'm Newt, by the way."

I shook his hand with a tight smile, "Eli."

He had the same smile on his face he would've had on Christmas morning, which took me aback. What was there to smile for? It wasn't like I was going to raise them from perdition or anything. If anything, I knew less than everyone in the Glade.

He spoke again, addressing Alby, "I hope you know those shanks won't get any bloody work done today, don't you?"

Alby scowled, "They'd better work like always if they don't wanna spend their next nights in the Slammer. Watch her while I get them moving."

"All right," Newt muttered with a smirk as he saw Alby leave in heavy steps. He then turned to me, "You're gonna spend a hell of a first few days in here, Greenie."

I squinted at him, "Huh?"

He smiled wider, "You're the first girl we've ever got. Shanks will certainly need time to adjust, and get used to you."

"No but, what did you call me?" I clarified, looking up at him. He must've been around nine or ten inches taller than me.

"Oh that. Greenie, that's what we call the newest additions," he explained as he started walking slowly. I followed him.

"It's weird," I commented between my lips as I folded my arms again.

He surveyed me for a second before adding, "You don't ask many questions, do you?"

"It's to avoid the information overload," I replied automatically.

My eyes started looking for the horizon, but I didn't find it. Instead, the Glade was fenced in by four gigantic, concrete walls, each having an opening. I couldn't see much of what lay beyond, though I wanted to.

I turned to Newt, "Where are we?"

He frowned at me, looking like a confused child as he did so, "We're in the Glade..?" Newt trailed off, unsure.

"Yeah, but where is the Glade situated? In which country or city?" I asked before pointing at the openings, "Where do these openings lead?"

His frown intensified, turning into one of worry and probably something like bother, "We'll take this slow, all right, Greenie?"

"My name is Eli," I spoke calmly, "and I believe it's slow enough to tell me which country I'm in."

He snorted, "All right, Eli. I'm afraid I can't tell you which country we're in, no one knows. As for the Doors, we'll explain later."

"Why not now?" I asked back, pursing my lips.

He chuckled at my impatience, "All in good time. Come on, gonna show you where you're gonna be sleeping until we find somewhere more suitable."

I blinked, "More suitable for what?"

He surveyed me from head to toe, "I don't know if you've noticed, but you're the only girl among thirty lads. Bound to be problematic if we're thinking long-term."

"Oh... Is there a place where no one sleeps?" I asked timidly.

"I'll show you to a room, for starters. Then we'll ask Gally to build you something more suitable. He's the Keeper of the Builders, it's his job," he added quickly when he saw how embarrassed I felt about having to ask someone something.

I still had my pride, if nothing else, and having to ask someone for something felt like trading my soul for it. I'd have to learn the ropes of the Glade quickly so as not to owe anyone anything.

Something in what he said rose an interrogation within me, "His job?"

He nodded curtly, "Alby will explain everything on the tour. Just be patient, all right? Today, you just relax and try and get used to the place."

I scoffed, "Right. I uh... I'm kind of hungry," I murmured, hoping he wouldn't hear me.

Of course he would. He gave me a sympathetic smile and put his hand on my back, "Let's see what Frypan's got for you, then, shall we?"

I refrained from removing myself from his touch as we made our way toward a building, so badly assembled it was a wonder it was still holding up. It looked as though throwing a pebble at it would bring it down entirely. I grimaced as I saw a boy in one of the upper levels and Newt must've caught it.

He chuckled, "Don't worry, the Homestead is sturdy. Has been for years."

That had me wondering, "How long have you guys been here?"

This seemed to bother him some, "You really can't wait tomorrow, can you?"

I cringed. If his smile was gone, I must've pissed him off, "Sorry."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "No, it's all right. It'd be bloody weird not having you ask so many questions anyway. Let's get you something to eat first."

"Okay," I murmured and decided not to speak anymore unless asked a question.

Newt brought me to a wobbly picnic table, "You wait for me a minute, I'll be back, all right?"

I nodded and sat on the bench at the table. I kept receiving curious glances from every single boy walking by me. At some point I wondered what exactly they were looking at— I didn't remember what I looked like, I hadn't even taken notice of what I was wearing. I took a look down my sat body and saw that I was wearing combat pants with removable legs, and a white, short-sleeved t-shirt. I scoffed, White. Not for much longer, I thought as I leaned back to check my footwear. Black combat boots. And quite comfortable ones at that.

It had been five minutes of deep thinking when I saw a tray with a plate and a metal cup on, placed between my elbows on the table. I looked up to see Newt smiling again. I glanced at the plate and saw a sandwich on it. I lifted the top bread to find fried chicken, some salad, and a melted slice of cheese. And in the cup was clear water.

"Thank you," I murmured. It hadn't been an hour and I was already tired.

"You're welcome," he grinned as he sat across from me.

I waited no longer as I grabbed the sandwich and dug in. It didn't taste bad and, at that point, it was all I cared about. I finished the meal in close to fifteen minutes and then drank the water.

*

Two hours later found me inside the Homestead, in one of the rooms I suspected belonged to Alby or the one just below him in authority. There was literally nothing inside but one hammock hung in the bottom right corner, a desk and a chair on the opposite corner; and a window between the two.

"So you're gonna sleep here until Gally builds your place," Newt explained with a lazy wave toward the room.

I nodded. It was the second time I heard about Gally, yet still didn't know what he looked like. "Okay... Whose room is this?"

"Mine," he announced somewhat proudly.

I frowned, "Oh... I'm sorry for intruding—"

"No, no. It's all right, really. I'll sleep in Alby's room," Newt brushed off my apology, his voice breaking mid-sentence.

I pressed my lips together, "Won't it disturb Alby, though?"

"He'll deal with it. It's two weeks at most, then you'll have your own place," Newt tried reassuring me but I still felt bad about depriving him from privacy.

"I'm still sorry about that, Newt," I apologized, wringing my hands.

He smiled down at me, "It's all right. He owes me one," he lied.

"Thank you," I murmured.

He tapped my shoulder lightly, "You're welcome."

I got into the room and sat on the hammock, swaying. "This is nice..."

He smiled softly, "Yeah... Oh, by the way, a trunk meant for you got in. Alby asked someone to bring it up her—"

"Newt this thing is heavy and violently pink, I can't believe—"

"Will you stop bloody complaining, Clint?" Newt growled with a frown.

Clint dropped the truly very pink trunk right beyond the threshold and panted, "That's it. I'm not moving it an inch farther."

I wrinkled my nose at the color, "Ew, pink..." I stood up from the hammock and smiled at Clint, "Thanks, I'll take it from here."

"She's polite, I'll give her that," he commented as he leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms.

"She's here, you know?" I retorted, making Newt snort and Clint raise his eyebrows.

I dragged the trunk right in the middle of the room and sat cross-legged, facing it. I undid the clasps and raised its lid to find neatly stacked clothing on the right of the wide trunk. I couldn't get a good look at everything inside so I started pulling the items one by one and commenting on them under my breath.

Pulling out a black tank top, "Well that's a cheerful color..." a beige flannel shirt, "Nice, nice..."

This went on for another minute with safari shorts, a black pair of combat pants, and a white tank top. I folded every item I pulled out on the floor, next to the trunk, and saw a medical kit. I pulled it out and Clint seemed suddenly interested. I opened it to find a set of bandages, scissors, rubbing alcohol, and three pill containers: one black, and two silver. I read the label of the black one: «Birth Control— Once a Day.»

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, setting it aside.

"What is it?" Clint asked, brow knitted together.

I tossed him the small box and he easily caught it, "Useless, that's what it is."

Clint squinted at the label before turning a light shade of pink, "I'll keep this in the Medwing. You holler if you ever need it."

"Okay," I agreed distractedly as I read the labels on the silver ones: «Cramps— Twice a Day.» "These, I'm keeping."

"What is it?" Clint asked again.

"What are you, some kind of weird junkie?" I asked with a frown, making Newt laugh and Clint scowl, although he soon snorted.

"Clint's a Med-jack," Newt explained.

I squinted at the term, "Am I supposed to understand?"

"Like a doctor," Clint reiterated.

I raised my eyebrows and nodded slowly, "Ohh, okay."

"So what's in the second one?"

"Pills for cramps," I shrugged, looking further inside the trunk.

"Doesn't sound exclusively feminine," Newt frowned.

"Period cramps," I specified, making him flinch as though I'd just hit him.

"All right, never mind," he muttered under his breath.

Next thing I saw was a bag of toiletries, which reminded me that I sort of stank. Inside, there was shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, a bar of soap, a comb, two razors, and the best for last: a dozen hair ties. Those, I would need. I hadn't realized I was smiling from ear to ear until I felt the boys' heavy gazes on me.

After pulling out the bag of toiletries, I noticed something important was missing: underwear. What was more, the trunk looked bigger from the outside than on the inside. I then had the reflex to knock on the bed of the trunk and it resonated. I inspected the neat, silver bed of the outrageously Barbie pink trunk for something to help pull out the bottom lid. I found somewhere I could fit two fingers and pulled. Under my eyes and those of Newt, who had been sitting at the desk since I started pulling my things out, was a set of female underwear.

Fashionable bras, sports bras, boxers, knickers, and even small, tight shorts. I pushed between two piles and saw period necessities— except for chocolate. I closed it again, not feeling the need to get those out just yet.

I spoke as I started placing my folded clothes in the trunk again, "So that's it. Um say, where can I shower?" I asked, looking up.

Newt stood up, "I'll show you, come on."

"Not just yet, I want to make sure no one else is using the showers while I do," I requested as I shut the trunk's lid and clicked the clasps.

"Why?" Newt asked and I scowled meaningfully at him.

Clint simultaneously announced, "I'll be in the Medwing. Later, Greenie!"

He was gone before I could tell him my name, "How long will my name be 'Greenie' for?" I sighed as I stood up.

"Until the Box sends another Greenie, sorry," Newt chuckled, walking closer to me.

I went to the window and looked over the Glade, "I don't know if I forgot a set of words on my way up here or if you guys have a really weird way of talking."

He laughed again, "We have a special dialect is all. It's quite easy to catch on, really."

"Teach me that dialect of yours," I asked, trying and failing to imitate his accent.

He laughed, his eyes nearly closing, "You know, it's not very kind to mock my accent."

It was my turn to laugh, "Oh I wasn't. I'd love to have the same, to be honest."

"Oh, I'm sorry, was that a compliment?" Newt looked mock-scandalized. I had been cold and emotionless ever since I came out of the Box, so I figured I took him aback just by being nice.

I nudged his shoulder, "Don't get used to it..."

Newt was gonna answer when someone called him from downstairs. He grimaced, "I have to get downstairs a while, you gonna be all right in here?"

I nodded, "Sure, go ahead. I need to think anyway, I don't mind alone time."

He gave me a small smile before disappearing through the doorway. I set to looking out the window again, my thoughts racing. I needed to come to terms with the fact that I was going to live in the Glade. I was still rather curious as to what lay beyond the openings, but I decided to be patient until tomorrow. Hopefully everything would be explained.

My mind wandered to random topics when I saw two guys jogging from the outside of the openings. I focused on them and found one was a tall blond in a white shirt, and the other was an Asian boy in a blue shirt, his black hair spiked up at the front. One of the younger boys ran to them and started talking animatedly. They seemed to pay him no heed at first, but one of his words seemed to catch their attention. They both stopped their jog and looked to where he pointed. And then I realized he was pointing at Newt's window. I chose to act as though I hadn't noticed them, simply because I was too nervous to acknowledge them. I needed to find a way to get over my social anxiety, somehow.

I suddenly heard stumbling steps coming closer, ending in a breathless boy of maybe fourteen coming at the door, "Hey, you need to get downstairs. Alby said you mustn't see it happen from here."

I blinked confusedly at him, "See what happen?"

"You'll see. Alby will explain," the boy then looked past me, across the window, and added, "it's gonna happen soon, come on."

He disappeared without giving me any other indication, much less his name. I followed his path quickly and found myself at the foot of the Homestead in no time. I looked for Alby and found him talking to the Asian boy in a blue shirt. I hesitated on whether to go towards Alby directly or to wait for him to finish talking with the other one. I picked the option which fit my social anxiety best and stood, lost, waiting for things to happen.

"Hey Greenie!" A voice I wasn't familiar with called me.

I turned to find the tall blond who came in with Blue Shirt earlier, "Hey," I replied unenthustastically.

"Figure Alby called you down for the Closing," he grinned before extending a hand, "I'm Ben, by the way."

I shook his hand, "Greenie, apparently, but you can call me Eli."

His smile widened as he gestured to the Door he came from, "I'll be your guide for this, then."

I frowned then, "I was sent for by Alby. Isn't there some sort of protocol to be followed..?" I trailed off, unsure.

Ben was about to brush it off when we heard a deep throat clearing. Alby appeared behind him, "Don't you have a section to map, Ben?"

Ben lost his swagger then, "Yeah, t'was what I was about to do..."

Alby pointed toward a safely guarded, concrete room not far from the Homestead, "The Map Room's over there."

Ben smiled at me sheepishly, "I'll see you at dinner, Greenie." And he jogged toward the said-Map Room. Why did I even bother giving them my name?

"Shuck-face doesn't lose a second," Alby seethed before checking his watch, "come on, Greenie. It's almost time."

"What's gonna happen?" I asked as I followed him towards the nearest Door.

He glared at me, "Don't ask questions."

I shot him a scowl he brushed off but didn't say another word. We walked until being a few yards from the Door. He faced me and everything about his expression was strict.

He placed his left hand on my right shoulder and caught my gaze, "See the Door behind me? It's gonna close for the night. Now what you need to remember is that we're on the safe side of that Door. If someone stays beyond it after it closes, he just signed his own death warrant— or she, for that matter." He added the last part raising his eyebrows.

I frowned at him, "That gigantic wall... moves?"

Alby checked his watch again, "One more minute. I'll ask you not to panic."

"Er okay," I fidgeted, uneasy.

Boom.

It was brief, but shook the ground and vibrated in my bones. I took a step back and my jaw fell open as the right wall started moving toward the left, heaving dust and creating sparks on its way. I turned to the other Doors and they were all in sync. I couldn't believe what I was watching was really happening. My breath hitched and I was certain my face showed fear.

Approximately two minutes after the moving started, another "Boom" was heard and the four Doors were sealed.

The first words to escape my lips were, "Well shit..."

"Now you go back to what you were doing. The Tour is tomorrow, I'll explain everything then," Alby spoke before leaving.

I turned around to follow him with my eyes for a few seconds before turning back to the Door. I sat, cross-legged, facing a gigantic concrete wall. My mind started wandering to the bigger picture. Why would being here considered "safer" than outside?... What's out there?

I had been subconsciously pulling out grass when I heard someone clearing his throat, "Zart isn't gonna be too happy about the new Greenie vandalizing."

I turned to find one of the tougher guys, "Sorry... I'm— I guess I'm just trying to cope with all of this."

He crouched next to me with his elbows on his knees, "You're doing better than most Greenies, already."

I turned to look at him, "Thanks."

He gave me a lopsided grin, "You know, everyone's talking about you right now."

I scoffed, "Humor me..." I leaned back on my hands and sighed, "All I really need right now is a shower and time to think."

He imitated my position and chuckled, "Oh you'll get that. Today and tomorrow after the Tour with Alby. Otherwise, you're gonna spend a real busy two weeks with the tryouts."

I frowned, "What tryouts?"

"Haven't you noticed everyone has something specific to do?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, "No exceptions for Greenies. Even girl Greenies..."

I nodded, "Yeah I guess it's fair enough. What's your job?"

He laughed lightly, "I don't think being a Builder would fit you."

I sat back straight, "Oh right. I'm supposed to meet your— your boss or however they call it around here, to discuss the building of a place away from everyone else."

He smirked, "My boss, huh?"

I pushed his shoulder playfully, "I still have difficulties with your way of talking, okay?"

He laughed and sat straighter as well, "Well for your information, Greenie, the leader of each group of workers is called their Keeper."

"Well then your Keeper," I reiterated, tilting my head at the word, "and I have to meet tomorrow after the Tour."

"Ah," he grimaced, "there's a little issue though."

I blinked, "What is it?"

"I don't have a Keeper," he replied, "since I am the Keeper of the Builders." He extended his right hand toward me, "I'm Gally, Greenie."

I shook his hand, "Hi Gally. I'm Greenie."

He chuckled, "You don't remember your name?"

"I do. I just won't bother telling anyone about it until there's another person to call 'Greenie'," I explained, receiving a grin.

"Good that," Gally mumbled before looking behind us, "and there comes the limp."

"The who?" I muttered as I turned around to find Newt coming toward us.

He was a few yards away when he stopped walking, "Clint would flip to see you running, Newt." Gally warned.

I stood up to join Newt and Gally followed, "What happened to your leg?" I asked, immediately creating tension.

For a fraction of a second, Newt and Gally exchanged a worried glance until Newt spoke, "Fracture. I fell."

My brow knitted together, "Oh... It's getting better though, right?"

Newt frowned before nodding, "Yeah. Yeah, I can walk again. First few weeks, I was on permanent bed rest... Anyway, I came to tell you the showers are free now if you still want one."

I perked up at this, "Oh right, great! You're sure no one's there, right?"

Newt chuckled, missing the questioning look Gally gave him, "Sure. Minho must be done, he's the slowest."

"I gotta go, I'll see you two at dinner," Gally said as he left, "see you, Greenie."

I raised a hand, "Later, Gally." I turned to Newt, "Wait for me here, I'll be right back with my stuff so you can show me to the bathroom, yeah? Thanks."

Without waiting any longer, I trotted back to the Homestead and made my way to Newt's room. I flung open the outrageously pink lid and grabbed the toiletries, the beige shirt, the black combat pants, and underwear. I went back downstairs and found an amused Newt sitting at one of the picnic tables.

"You're the most thrilled person about a shower that I know," he spoke with a smirk.

"I'm the only girl that you know," I countered, "now tell me where I should go." Newt made to stand up but I raised my free hand, "No, it's alright. You don't have to move around so much for me, I can follow indications."

Newt, of course, wouldn't have any of it. He lead me to a sauna-like room with individual shower cabins and towels hung on hooks. At the end of the room was the one thing I haven't thought of wanting.

A mirror.

And a full-length one at that. Newt was giving me indications but I stopped listening. I walked slowly toward the mirror, suddenly extremely anxious about discovering what I looked like. What if I didn't like my appearance? What if, from now on, I had to bear a face that didn't fit who I was?

Getting closer to the mirror, I could already distinguish straight, dark brown hair and tanned skin. I wasn't fat but I was still sort of meaty— not really thin. The closer I got to the mirror, the more I could distinguish my features. My face was slightly square, with a hint of cheekbones and a visible jaw line. My nose was a little large for my liking but it molded with the rest of my features. I had round, dark brown eyes. And my lips were in a rather nice shape, which made me smile as I thought of it.

"Liking what you see?" Newt broke the bewildered silence with a snicker.

I let out a chuckle and saw my eyes light up. I bit my lip and murmured, "I don't hate it and that's more than adequate."

"Good that. Although there's nothing to hate, really," he said from where he stood. He cleared his throat loudly, as though desirous to change the subject, "well umm, I'm gonna let you do your thing. You holler if you need anything, I'll be outside unless Alby calls for me."

I nodded, reluctantly taking my eyes off of my reflection, "Okay. Thanks Newt."

He left, and I waited to hear the door close before choosing a shower cabin. I closed the door and peeled off my clothes. I hung them on the towel hook and realized I forgot to get one. I pondered over whether to call Newt for that but then decided that I'd get it after showering. He said everyone had showered so I wouldn't be disturbed... would I?

I washed up quickly and wrung my hair. I extended my hearing to check whether I was really alone. I couldn't hear a thing close by so I risked treading out of the cabin to grab one of the towels. I took the first I saw and dried myself starting with my hair. When I was dry enough, I tied it at my chest and realized how short it was. It only reached the quarter of my thighs and I felt monstrously exposed until I caught a glance of my legs in the mirror. Wearing the combats hid the real shape of my legs and I had to say I was quite proud of those.

I was so taken by my own reflection, as narcissistic as it sounded, I didn't hear the door open and the two or three steps the person took for me to be in their field of vision, "Well shuck..." an unfamiliar voice breathed out.

I whipped around to find— "Oh my God."