Second chappie up! ;) Read on reader! Please give me a review? Oh thanks to my one reviewer… togssg16! I give you a virtual cookie! ;)

I looked down at the boys lying peacefully in the meadow. My eyes seemed to zoom in on the scene and I easily picked out Thomas and Chuck. I didn't hear any screams, so I guess that no one was awake to see me fly. My luck was holding out so far. I breathed a sigh of relief as I landed behind the main house. I quietly opened the door, and drifted inside. There had to be a place where they kept extra clothes.

The only problem was I didn't know where. I opened various doors on the first floor, but they led into vacant bedrooms and living areas. I inhaled deeply and went up the grand staircase. A small boy with dark haunted eyes and a frustrated face appeared from nowhere.

I couldn't get a good look at him because it was really dark. I doubted he could see more than an outline of me. I drew my wings tighter against my back, paranoia kicking in. "You're not allowed to be up here," the boy growled. I didn't feel too threatened.

"Well, I kinda need a shirt," I gestured to my lack thereof.

"I guess you do," he said, disgruntled, and averted his eyes from my chest. That was good. I didn't want to have to punch the daylights out of him before acquiring a shirt. He went into a room down the hall, and came back with a white tank top.

"I can't go around in a tank top," I said, trying to keep the anxiety from my voice.

"Too good for a tank top, Shank?" he sneered.

"No," I matched his tone of voice, pointedly ignoring the term Shank. I was too busy fishing for a lie. "It's just that that tank top is built for boys who don't have to worry about having," I hesitated and said, "certain things. That tank is cut low enough that you'll see more than I really want you to."

"Oh," he said and disappeared into that same room. I wonder how he would've acted if I'd said the word boobs. I thanked God that this boy was a prude. I was just so dog tired and didn't really want to fight anyone for trying to get a peak at my no-no rectangle.

He appeared with a blue tee and turned around as I gratefully pulled it on. It was baggy on me, but that was a good thing. It'd be easier to conceal my wings beneath a shirt as large as this.

"I'm Matt," he said softly. I looked into his dark brown eyes. I felt captured by those mesmerizing pools. They were just so dang familiar.

"Do I know you?" I asked softly.

"No, never seen you in my life…" he trailed off. A piercing scream made me flinch. Matt took off running. I guess he wasn't supposed to be up here. A few boys went running from one room to the room where the scream came from.

"What are you doing up here?" one boy paused beside me. He looked livid. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Uh…"

"Get your greenie butt out of here, and let the professionals do the work," the boy snapped. I laughed.

"Professional?" I snorted in a very un-girlish fashion. Heck, what did I care?

"We're all the Glade's got," he replied, and went into the room. The boy told me to leave. What do I do? I go into the room where the scream had come from.

A girl about fourteen years old lay on a bed, brown curls falling over her shoulders. Her eyes were shut lightly in the peace of sleep. She didn't look like she had been screaming. "I told you to leave!" the boy growled.

"Make me," I put my hands on my hips. The girl's eyes suddenly snapped open and fell on me.

"Where am I? Who are you?" she asked automatically.

"You're in the Glade. We're med-jacks. I'm Clint," the boy said. "Who are you?"

"Teresa," she murmured. Something on her arm caught my attention. Without vision as good as mine, I would've never seen it. In pen were the words 'WICKED is good.' What was WICKED? She swung her legs over the bed and stood up.

She began to walk towards the door. The boys tried to get her to lie back down, but she was adamant.

"No, I don't want to be in here any longer!" she growled at the so-called 'med-jacks'. I liked this girl's style. Her gaze fell upon me. "Who are you?" she frowned slightly.

"Max," I replied, sizing her up. I could take her if I really needed to.

"You shouldn't be here," she said, bewilderment painting her face.

"Well, I don't want to be here," I snapped.

"Well, leave," Clint pushed me from the room, "now."

"Can't I stay for the cake?" I asked as he practically dragged me downstairs.

"What cake?" he queried, befuddled.

"You weren't told about the ice cream cake they were going to have when Teresa woke up?" I gaped at him in shock, trying to hide a smirk.

"Okay, shank, get to bed," Clint said and shoved me out of the Main House very unceremoniously.

"My name is…" I began, but he slammed the door shut on me. Hmm, that went well.


"Max," someone whispered. I felt a hand touch my shoulder and I jerked away wicked fast. I was in a defensive position before I was halfway awake. "Whoa!" I blinked and saw Thomas rapidly retreating.

"Oh," I wiped my eyes and fluidly stood up. I didn't do apologies. I quickly glanced at the archways. They were completely open. It was as if we'd never been enclosed in the first place.

I felt most of my tension fade away from the previous night. I struggled to hold in a yawn. I hadn't gotten much sleep.

"It's time for breakfast," Chuck said as he came bouncing over. My stomach grumbled very loudly and the boys burst into laughter. I soon joined. 'Feed me! Feed me!' my tummy complained.

"Shank," I shot Thomas a pointed glare, and he quickly backtracked, "er, …"

"You've forgotten my name haven't you?" I bit my lip to withhold a smirk.

"I have," Thomas tried to smile apologetically, but I knew he wasn't really sorry.

"Well, I do see some blonde at your roots," I teased, carefully inspecting his hair. "It's Max."

Before Thomas could say anything else, Chuck took off towards a medium sized building near the center of the Glade. I was on his heels, eager to fill my belly. As we walked in, I realized the building was exactly like a cafeteria.

There were dozens of tables set up all. Most of the tables were occupied with Gladers who were eating and chattering away. On the far side of the cafeteria was a long bar.

The left section of the bar was designated for dirty dishes and the right was where you collected clean dishes. In-between the left and right section a boy was serving food from a huge silver pot.

I trailed behind Chuck and Thomas as they each grabbed a grey bowl and spoon. I mimicked their movements as they walked up to the boy.

"I'm Frypan," the boy grinned as he dumped puke into Thomas then Chuck's bowl. I think I was going to throw up myself. I nodded and let him dump the puke into my bowl. More Gladers trickled into the cafeteria, crowding it to near capacity.

I fought my way through the onslaught of people and darted outside. I was very claustrophobic and very hungry. Those two things don't mix well- at all. I hunkered down at the base of a tree, and, despite my misgivings, ate what turned out to be oatmeal in ten seconds flat. I was still hungry.

I didn't care how hungry I was. I wasn't going back into the mess hall. My knees popped as I stood up, and waited for the mess hall to clear out a little.

The boys took their good time, gradually filtering out and separating to do various jobs. I was about to go into the mess hall to discard my bowl when Alby came up to me. This was going to be fun (note the sarcasm).

"Why aren't you doing your job shank?" Alby barked at me. I felt my face harden, and Alby flinched slightly under my stare.

I adopted a patronizing tone as I said, "There's a little thing called a name, shank. Since you haven't heard me the last thousand times I'll say it again. My name is Max." I could tell I was skating on thin ice. What can I say? "And you haven't given me a job."

"Okay, let's see how you do at the blood house," Alby said as a red light flashed overhead. I bit my lip. I honestly didn't want to ask Alby what it was. "That's a beetle blade. We figure the Creators are watching us from them," Alby said casually, but his face was tense. I suppressed a shudder. I didn't like it any better than he did.

"Oh, right, the blood house," he showed me to the blood house.

Apparently, I'd be hacking apart some hapless piggy. Eh, it makes bacon and ham doesn't it? Okay, so that was mean, but still. The good Lord must've put pigs on this Earth for a reason. We've got to get calcium (or whatever it is you get from pig) somehow.

A boy about seventeen talked with Alby for a minute. Finally, he walked over to me with a skeptical look on his face. "I'm Winston, Keeper of the Blood House. I don't think you can handle…" before he even finished his sentence I snorted.

Before I could stop myself, I muttered under my breath, "Sexist pig." If he'd heard my snide comment he didn't show it.

"Okay, to skin a dead animal you have to…" he produced a knife and showed me a bunch of complicated ways to go about removing the organs. I zoned out after a few minutes. "Now, I'll let you try it on this pig. It doesn't have much meat on it's bones, so it won't be too devastating if you mess up."

I nodded and took the clean knife he handed me. I froze as I realized I hadn't listened to a word Winston had said. I was screwed unless I thought something up… fast.

I positioned the knife over the pgs stomach and instinct took over. I made a clean slit down it's stomach. The knife was sharp and only a little blood leaked onto my hands. I set the bloody knife aside. You don't need to hear all the gory details. I don't want you throwing up on me.

Winston looked impressed and had me do various odd jobs all day. By the time dinner rolled around I was starved. I'd had a ham sandwich for lunch. Apparently, my calorie intake was much different from the boys. As soon as Winston let me go for dinner I raced to the mess hall place.

I was almost the first there. Newt, Thomas, Chuck, and a few people I didn't know were already eating inside. I barreled to Frypan with a bowl, and he gave me a spoonful of soup. It barely filled the bowl halfway.

Were they trying to starve me? "A little bit more?" I asked.

"One spoonful per bowl," he said seriously. Alright… one spoonful per bowl… I grabbed another bowl and held it out for him. "You're kidding me… right?" he laughed.

"Nope," I popped my 'p'.

"Then let me rephrase that. No extras!"

"Fine," I said and took a sip from my bowl. I made a face and dumped it on his head before stalking off. Tonight was going to be fun.

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