Chapter 10 – The Track-hoes
"Sable, you're doing it wrong." An exasperated voice calls from behind me.
I wipe the sweat from my brow and glance behind me in disbelief at Newt.
Was he aware of how difficult this job was?
He's staring with an amused and annoyed expression at the sight of me attempting to hack at crops.
I roll my eyes.
"Well then show me how to do it, genius." I call back. Newt unleashes a grin embellished with challenge and saunters over to me with a sexy swagger.
"With pleasure, love." He calls out seductively.
I kinda sorta almost drop the tool I'm holding.
He comes up behind me and I clumsily swivel my gaze to the front to the plants at my feet.
I can feel Newt's warmth as he moulds his body to my back and holds the tool with me, his hands covering mine.
I cough.
"You need to use a smooth motion to cut them, not a bloody manic murderer one." He demonstrates by raising the gardening instrument, which causes my body to rub against his.
He hisses in a breath.
We pause for a moment, then simultaneously remember what Alby had previously said to us.
Get the job done.
He sighs with pain; apparently coming to the same conclusion as me.
So he swings down the tool fluidly, slicing the crops in one, swift movement.
Then, Newt removes his hands and detaches himself from me, and I can sense an underlying reluctance in him doing so.
"You know what to do now, love?" Newt says with a husky tone.
"Yeah, I think I do now. Thanks." I say. I glance over my shoulder at him and give a sensual wink. His eyes widen and he catches his breath as I do so. Then, I return to cutting the crops.
After a long couple of hours, I decide that I do not want to be a Track-hoe. Like, ever. Even though Newt was one, and he did make the job far more interesting by far, I still didn't like it.
Let's just hope that the Med-jacks have a fun job.
I heard that if you're not good at any job, you become a Slopper or a Bagger.
I shudder in revulsion at the recollection of being a participant in those jobs.
Poor Chuck.
I'm currently sitting in the Homestead with all of the boys, and we are devouring Frypan's cooking like we may never see food again. Newt is sitting next to me, and he's laughing hysterically at something another Glader across from him had said. I smile at him with amusement as I watch his face relax when he laughs. All the tension in his face disappears, making him look years younger.
Newt glances at me, still laughing, and I hastily look down and drop my smile, not wanting to ruin anything for him. His hand comes into view a few moments later, and he grips my chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look at him. I stare at him sheepishly and he resumes smiling again.
I think my heart literally does backflips in my chest.
He grabs the fork from my hand and spears a piece of meat in the stew, then exaggerates the action of moving the fork towards my mouth until it just rests at my lips. I smile and eat the meat off the fork, and Newt prepares to repeat the procedure.
I rip the fork out of his hand.
As adorable as he was, I didn't want to take my time eating my food.
I'm starving after doing all that work as a Track-hoe.
Newt laughs again as he watches me devour the stew and he begins eating Frypan's amazing dinner again.
Frypan is the one who cooks all of the main meals for the Gladers. When I was being a Cook for a day, he was super nice to me and showed me how to do everything.
I decide then that if I don't like the Med-jacks, I'm definitely becoming a Cook, even though I don't really enjoy it that much. I'd rather work with good people and do lots than work with bad people and do nothing.
Just as I'm finishing another bite of lamb stew, the door to the Homestead creaks open. How I heard this sound over the consistent chatter of everyone, I don't know. I look up and around, but no one else apparently heard the door; the talking is still louder than ever.
I glance up at the door to the Homestead and see Emerson slowly peek half of her face beside the door, clearly shy and nervous to come in. I whip my head down sharply as her gaze scans the Gladers. I can feel her stare halt on me, and I do everything in my willpower not to look up.
I hear footsteps sounding from the area near the door and assume that she's walking somewhere.
Klunk.
I realise everyone's chatter is slowly dying as Emerson makes her way through the room. I see her feet walk near me, stop briefly when in front of me, then keep on going after a moment. I hold my breath until her feet have completely disappeared from view, then I glance up again.
She's at the food-serving table, using a ladle to scoop Frypan's stew out of a pot and into a bowl. Everyone has ceased talking and is staring at Emerson. She clearly notices that they're watching her, but ignores them anyway. Her back is to everyone and once she finishes gathering her serving, she turns back around to find somewhere to sit.
Everyone's heads quickly snap back downwards as she glances around and some embarrassed Gladers even attempt to scratch their heads in ignorance.
Emerson rolls her eyes at them and marches over to our table.
I look beside me and realise that the only empty seat is next to me.
Typical.
I return my gaze to my food, picking at it.
I'm suddenly not that hungry anymore.
She places her bowl next to mine and hesitantly slides into the seat next to me. Her hands rest in her lap and she fidgets around awkwardly.
In unison, everyone resumes their rambling like nothing had happened and Emerson clears her throat shyly beside me.
I deliberately turn my head away from her and look up at Newt. He's watching me carefully and he reaches out to clasp my hand. Our fingers mould together and he mouths an "Are you okay?" at me.
I give an imperceptible nod and look at everyone on our table but Emerson. Minho, Thomas, Gally, Alby, Chuck, Frypan, Newt and a Med-jack called Jeff are sitting at my table as well as Emerson.
Most of them are finishing their stew awkwardly; they were the only ones not to resume their talking once Emerson sat down. Minho is the only one who is not eating. He is staring at Emerson so intently that I become quite frightened. I wait until Minho glances at me before I raise an eyebrow at him.
He glares at me and returns to eating his meal, but still stares at Emerson from the corner of his eye.
I look back down at my food and think to myself.
Should I talk to her?
About what happened? About how she is? Whether she experienced what I did? Hell, maybe even just a "Hey, how are ya doin'?"
I think for several moments more before I glance at Emerson from the corner of my eye. She is picking at her food and tears are welling in her eyes, but they aren't falling. I sigh wistfully and turn to her.
"Hey." I say to her. Newt squeezes my hand and I know that he was paying attention to my every movement.
Emerson glances up in shock and blinks at me like a deer in headlights. I raise my eyebrows expectantly at her and she fumbles around for a response.
"Um, hi." She mutters to me. She keeps her gaze drawn downwards and I realise that she's worried about having another memory.
"You can look at me you know." I say to her.
She hesitates, but carefully makes eye contact with me, and I flinch slightly as I finally look at her sapphire-coloured eyes. I visibly relax as nothing happens, as does she.
"I just didn't think you'd want to. I mean, I know you went into shock and I didn't want to hurt you after what I saw in the memory so…" She trails off.
Minho's head snaps up.
"Did you say memory?" He snaps.
Aw, klunk.
Emerson realises her mistake; we haven't told anyone – with the exception of Newt – that we had a memory.
Emerson blinks a few times, unsure of how to play the situation.
I think frantically for a response. If I wait too long, he'll know I'm thinking of something.
"Um, no Minho." I quickly say. Everyone at our table looks at me.
"I think that it's quite clear she said 'my tree'." I say confidently. Newt stares at me and covers his mouth with his other hand as he raises his eyebrows in amusement.
I blush.
"What?" I say to Newt. I look at Minho.
He's not buying it.
Damn.
"What is it with you and trees, love?" Newt says to me humorously.
I turn back to Newt and grin.
"Oh you know, they're just so green." I say to him before bursting into giggles. He joins in and a few others at our table do as well.
Minho stands up sharply, his chair skidding backwards. Our laughter dies.
He glares at me, then Emerson.
He jabs a finger at Emerson.
"You, outside now." And he marches off and out of the Homestead without another word.
Emerson stares at his retreating figure.
"Um, excuse me." She says politely before making her way out behind Minho.
I sigh and slump in my seat.
"Well, she's a goner." I say to Newt. He turns to me and grins.
"Yeah, she's gone with love." Newt says, exaggerating "love" in a singsong dreamy voice. I giggle again and the mood begins to lighten again at our table.
We joke around until we have to clean up, in which Newt and I offer.
Alby performs his signature roll of eyes.
"Just –" He says.
"Get the job done." Newt and I recite in unison.
He smirks at us and our sync.
"Good then." Alby says. Newt stops him.
Alby raises his brows at Newt in question.
"Actually Alby, it's 'good that'." Newt informs.
Alby smiles in amusement and corrects himself.
"Okay then, good that."
Alby makes sure that he exaggerates every syllable.
Newt laughs and shoves Alby out of the Homestead.
Newt and I clean the dirty dishes and put them away. We wipe down the tables at the Homestead and give the Kitchen a thorough clean. Soon, both areas look brand new. Admittedly, it probably took longer than it should have thanks to Newt and I stopping every once in a while to… well, you know.
But, we got the job done.
I bid Newt good-night and begin to walk back to the Homestead to room, before Newt grabs my arm and spins me back around again. He grins at me. He's being doing that a lot and I like it.
"I didn't get a good-night kiss, love." Newt states teasingly.
Teasing him back, I give him a quick peck on his cheek before turning to walk off again.
He turns me around again and backs me against the wall of the Kitchen, bracing his arms at my temples.
I lean up slowly and give him a soft kiss against his lips, and he kisses me back, attempting to turn it into something passionate. I pull back teasingly and hold a finger against his once again smiling lips.
"Nope, only slow-dancing today." I say to him and he laughs softly.
"Slow-dancing it is then." He says
He leans down and gives me a slow, sensual kiss that practically makes my heart melt into a puddle of love. We stay like this until reluctantly, I pull away and just hug him instead; he's too much of a temptation.
He hugs me back and I just spend a few moments breathing him in. He smells like flowers and sunshine.
I give him another kiss on the cheek and we both head back to the Homestead together, where he bids me a proper good-night, and smiling at him I go into my room and collapse onto my bed, falling asleep instantly.
Author's Note: Hey hey hey! So, stuff's getting real w/Emerson. Finally! Nable are cuter than ever and maybe Minho's got a little *wink wink* for a certain someone that starts with E and rhymes with Emerson! What's Minho hiding I wonder…? Comment! Shouts again: "SUCHFUNCAKE" Hun, YOU ARE AWESOME. "NewtnTMR" love your comments and I've started reading some of you're stories. OMG amazeballs writer you are "NewtnTMR". Thanx for all the reviews and follows/favourites you guys mean the world!
~GladerGirl621 xx