Holy shuck. This definitely wasn't how Cleo envisioned her morning making its debut.

Clint had never been very good at social timing. Maybe his jokes were alright, but the week prior he'd skipped out on helping birth a baby goat to go work out in the woods again. This left Cleo as head nurse for the miracle of life, which she found to be vastly different that stitching up an arm split open.

She was too busy gagging afterwards to skin Clint alive.

Which is why when Jeff came bounding into the med-jack hut panting about how "Clint did it, he told them," Cleo was considering that flaying idea again.

"Who did he tell, Jeff?"

The boy's chest heaved again, a runner he was not. "I think he only tried for Alby at first, but Gally heard the word builder and butted in."

Cleo resolutely tugged her gauntlets back off and tossed them aside as she asked, "So what's happenin' now? Has a riot formed yet?"

"Dunno. I just came to tell ya that whatever's gonna happen with all this is happenin' today."

The hut was usually her fortress, walls of bamboo behind which she could retreat to if she needed a moment away from the Glade's issues. But damn the Creators if she was gonna sit like a helpless princess behind them for this. It was time to roll with the punches, even if they felt like roundhouse kicks.

Jeff had just taken a seat across the room when Cleo bolted up and dusted herself off, touching a hand to her cheek bruise where it was now only vaguely brown. "Well I'm gonna see what's going on out there before they make any decisions without me."

There was no time to make good on her declaration, however, before the door swung open and Newt leaned in against the doorframe. He laughed before he even spoke, shaking his head free of some disbelief.

"I, uh, a council meeting has been called and I've been sent to get both of you. But you," he swung his finger at Cleo, "you're the one in the hotseat."

She simply wagged her eyebrows at him. "Is this where I say that I was born ready?"

"This better not be draggin' me into the trouble, too." Jeff huffed.

"Hey, you already declined from takin' over in this switch. I'm thinkin' it's all gonna fall on me and Clint."

Newt interrupted their tiff. "Oh and Cleo, I think I heard Gally demanding something about you bringing the stool that Clint said he built."

She smirked at him and muttered under her breath, "It's like we're going to a shuckin' courtroom."

With the sturdy wooden seat tucked under her arm, Cleo ushered herself and Jeff out into the daybreak. Dew like mud stuck to their shoes and eyelashes and even Newt's hair got a little fluffier.

"So Clint just up and decided he didn't want to be a med-jack?" Newt's tongue snaked out to punctuate the question leaving his lips.

Cleo hummed in agreement. "Apparently. Some mid-life crisis for a sixteen year old."

"And what, he figured Gally was a jolly good boss as any?"

"Is this meeting gonna focus on the past or what's ahead?" Cleo shot back, a small but unwelcome bundle of nerves mulling around low in her belly. "Cause I'm hopin' that me becoming keeper is on the agenda, too."

Newt swiveled on his good leg to walk backwards and face her. "Look, Cleo, I'm just tryin' to understand cause this is the first I've heard of any of it. I'm not doubting you at all."

She nodded her thanks but it was too early to get all soppy over his vote of confidence. Newt was faced forward again by the time they reached the meeting hall where it was stashed in one corner of the Glade in all its rickety wooden glory.

"Well," Jeff moved up to flank Cleo, "this is about the only time I'll be in on a council meeting, I guess. I'm lookin' forward to my insider peek."

Cleo was going to tease him about what he was wanting a peek at, but she noticed Newt's back straightening when they walked into the hall and did the same. The more seriously the council took her, the easier the whole ordeal would go.

The door creaked closed behind them to effectively isolate the boys from the men, if you could call any unfortunate soul in the Glade a real man. The inner group was a crew whose faces Cleo knew well, and she couldn't tell if that was a comfort or a concern. Instead she focused on finding an empty beam to lean against.

"So who's gonna give the rundown on whatever the hell this is?" Alby broke the silence.

Clint and Cleo shared a nod before he spoke. "The short version? I'm tired of being a med-jack and so want to become a builder. We'd be leaving Cleo as Keeper."

Gally's arms were crossed ironclad against his chest and his wild eyebrows were knitted. "Anything we'd be missin' in the long version?"

"All the training and prep that's been done!" Cleo couldn't help the defense flying out of her mouth. "Clint's been workin' out in the woods for weeks now and Jeff and I have taken care of most of all the medical work."

There was a sense of secrecy and insubordination to their actions, Cleo knew full well. It's what was bothering Alby and everyone else. So she fought through it, willing it to not cloud their minds so far that her hopes for change amounted to nothing.

"Look, I swear Clint's good at it, and –"

"Let's see the handiwork then." Gally's hand was held out, a greedy palm demanding ransom.

Cleo handed him the stool and watched as he scrutinized the screws and the sanding and all the other random klunk Clint had been yammering about for weeks. Without looking up from the inspection, Gally tossed another question at Clint.

"Why'd you wanna stop the med-jack stuff?"

Clint dragged a hand down his face. "I'm tired of it, man, the stuff we gotta see and –"

"You can't just get tired of doing your job." Devil's advocate was a necessary position in any worthwhile debate, but the way Gally was handling it made Cleo's skin prickle.

Apparently Newt felt the same. "Are you gonna bloody let him finish?" His hand was dawdling at the leather strap taut against his chest and he ushered on Clint with a firm nod.

"Look," Clint began again, sweeping a gaze at the row of other keepers on the closest curved bench, "you don't know what it's like to have someone injured or die on your watch. It can really take a lot out of ya and I don't wanna see it anymore."

Cleo clenched her jaw as she felt a few glances turn and study her, no doubt wondering if she would soon be affected the same way. She hoped the grim line of her lips would show that she was better at handling it than Clint.

A deep sigh hissed out of Gally and he faced Alby with wide, defeated arms. "It's on you for this. Explaining to everyone why we're suddenly goin' haywire with who works where is gonna mess with the order we've got."

"Let's give Clint a test drive for a week or so with you," Alby placated, "but I think it'll be a good fit."

Clint nodded, relief showering his features because his end of the deal was sealed. On the flip side, Cleo's nerves were rushing toward the sheer drop of a cliff as the next conversation rounded over to her.

"So now that I've got Clint the builder," it was Gally again, spearheading the hostility, "we're just gonna let them choose their own med-jack keeper? Is nothing sacred about how the council is supposed to have the last say?"

"Lay off for a tick, Gally." Newt stepped to where he could be directly across the room from Cleo and shot her a knowing gaze. "This whole thing has definitely made a mess of our order and I think Alby'll agree that we can still do our deciding now."

Minho finally looked up after finishing the mass of breakfast he'd hauled in, eager to input with all the manners of a bull. "Hasn't she basically been runnin' it like a keeper already?"

"But keepers have more responsibility, her vote would count for something in the council." Zart spoke up despite avoiding eye contact with the pushy runner.

Back and forth it went with the remaining keepers as if Cleo had petals with Loves Me, Loves Me Not waiting to be plucked off. Can she, can't she, is it right to do this, what about the order. Always about the shucking order. It was great for keeping them from fighting and starving, but when it came time for change the order stood in the way.

Cleo's leg kept a bouncing pace that would make a swing band proud. The waiting and second-guessing was gnawing at her while the doubts swirled. How could they be taking this long? Was it her ability, her attitudes? An invisible seniority barrier? Or god forbid, the fact that she didn't have a dick to swing around?

Cleo slammed her palm into the bench with an exasperated grunt and the voices stopped immediately.

"What's with this? Think I can't be a keeper cause I'm a girl? Bunch of sexist slintheads. Didn't I make the best damn drug we've got? I'll bet y'all think –"

"Cleo!" Newt's voice iced her words in their path. "Slim it good and tight."

With eyes still trained on Newt, Cleo screwed her jaw shut and twisted a finger around a loose thread of her shirt. Her reckless outburst was suddenly embarrassing.

Newt continued, tone still hardened but gaze softer. "This isn't about you being a girl and for sure not your abilities. Shuck, you're one of the best workers we've got. Just let us finish, alright?"

The deliberations thankfully didn't take much longer, though Cleo still paced for their duration until Alby's deep voice called to her.

"If you're done with the marching," he quirked a smile, "I'll have time to tell ya that yeah, you're good to go. The vote was in your favor, Keeper."

A grin tugged Cleo's mouth wide and Jeff slapped his congratulations against her shoulder. More responsibility dawned on her horizon and she couldn't be more ready.

"Thanks, guys. And I s'pose I should say sorry."

Alby waved her off. "We've got a few hotheads already, one more won't hurt."


Cleo sought out Newt after the gathering held later that afternoon. The rest of the boys had been filled in and Eliza was ecstatic for the newest keeper, though the majority of the Gladers were unaffected by the new decisions and gave no more than a thumbs up.

She caught him en route to the gardens for a last few hours' worth of work. He slowed his long stride to acknowledge her with a smirk.

"Now don't get in your head that you can take over my position just cause you've moved up in the ranks once, okay?"

"Oh c'mon," she drawled as a breeze blew by to cool their sweat-dotted necks, "you didn't think they were ready to hand me a crown in there?"

"Not when I was the one savin' your arse," he laughed.

"Yeah, I wanted to say thanks for that, by the way. And the compliments were a nice trick for shuttin' me up."

A warm smile lit from his eyes to his mouth and infected her. "See? Told you I didn't doubt ya."

Jeff's voice cut clear across the meadow through the conversation. "Hey Cleo! You mind helpin' me close up shop for the day, keeper-lady?"

Newt's was a swift goodbye and Cleo dashed to her hut, a flurry of dust and sunshine in her wake. The suture thread had twisted itself into a handful of nasty knots that Jeff handed her when she stepped inside, to which she tossed back a dry "Thanks".

Jeff had just put away freshly cut strips of gauze when he nonchalantly spoke to Cleo's turned back. "So, uh, you listened to Newt real quick today."

"We all live and talk in the same square mile every day, man, you're gonna have to be more specific."

"In council this morning, when –"

"When I was bein' a dramatic shank?" she finished, turning around but keeping her eyes trained on the last stubborn knot. "Yeah, he was shushin' me before I blew my own chance."

Jeff shrugged, obviously trying to downplay whatever he was chattering on about. "Look, all I'm sayin' is that I can see you're comfortable with the guy. That's gotta be nice, right?"

Cleo slowly put down the thread. Having Jeff who for all intents and purposes was a brother was cool, right up until it turned into his irritating matchmaking games.

"Alright, lay off, you're seein' stuff again." Cleo lazily brushed at the air between them in hopes of driving him off. He'd thought she was starry-eyed plenty of times before.

He shrugged again but kept a peculiar stare. "I don't know, he's a good guy. Maybe this time my psychic abilities will work."

"Have you psychically seen yet how I'm gonna shove my foot up your ass?"

"Just lemme know if this one works out. One of these days I'll get you set up nice and right."

Cleo thanked the heavens somewhere high above them when Jeff left her alone in the hut, but try as she might to distract herself with reorganizing a crate of oils, the feeling in her gut didn't go away.

The feeling that Jeff was right.

Newt was an easy and trustworthy friend and she'd noticed it, too – that her ears were tuned to listen to his voice in a crowd and she was most content when lounging next to him on slow nights.

Whatever all that meant, she couldn't let it slow her down now. She focused back on the thrill of her new title and breathed an easy sigh into the empty med-jack hut that was now officially her dominion.