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Chapter XXI

Something Going On

Days passed without anything very exciting happening. The highlight of my week was showing Dean around the Kitchens during his job trials, but he ended up being a Trackhoe after all. I couldn't help but sneak a peek in the direction of the Gardens every once in a while, worried about the younger boy. Zart seemed to take good care of him and I had to remember myself to thank him during dinner.

I chopped vegetable after vegetable mindlessly, my thoughts drifting off every once in a while. Tonight, I would be running with Minho again in the Deadheads. Inbetween Dean's arrival and today, we only had gone running once, and not even for long. Somehow, he still thought I had the ambition to become a Runner. That while I stumbled over every possible branch or tree root and had to catch my breath after only a few minutes. It was nice though, to have someone who had faith in you. A somewhat sense of safety rushed over me at the thought.

Frypan's voice shook me out of my daydream. "Whacha thinking about?"

"Nothing really," I said a little too quickly. "Just tired."

The Cook saw right through my little lie, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Minho was right. When are y'all getting married?"

I rolled my eyes, but only after grinning sheepishly. I had almost forgotten Minho's little announcement. I pretended to be thinking very deeply, leaning my head on my hands, and said, "As soon as he asks me."

"Shuckface hasn't asked you yet?" Frypan almost looked genuinely surprised. I didn't question it. "He's missing out." He sent a quick wink in my direction, before turning back to his task: peeling potatoes. I hated doing it, and so did most of the other Cooks, but Frypan said that he found it somewhat relaxing and easy to do. At the moment, not many Cooks were in the Kitchen. Those that were, were engaged in their own convesations.

"Stop it, asshat," I grumbled, though heat rushed to my cheeks. Even though it had become casual for him to jokingly flirt with me, it made me blush every time he said something like that. He was actually one of the nicest boys in the Glade, always making sure I felt comfortable. I really hoped we could be good friends.

"C'mon Harper, even that's shucking cute."

"What?" I asked, quirking up an eyebrow. I turned my head to look at him, nearly cutting myself in the finger.

"Asshat," he repeated, mimicking my voice and facial expression. "Do you even know how to swear?"

"Newt tried to teach me my first night."

"He had to teach you how to swear?" Frypan quirked up an eyebrow. "You're a strange one."

"I called Gally a shuckface, though," I said, grinning quietly.

Frypan furrowed his eyebrows together before bursting into laughter. "I remember that! That was hilarious."

"My broken nose wasn't so hilarious," I mumbled, subconsciously bringing my fingers to my face.

"True that. You're too shucking nice to forgive him."

"That punch was just his fight-or-flight response. I mean, flighting wasn't exactly an option."

"True that also," the Cook said, rubbing his chin while he thought. "He's a good shank." He suddenly frowned, before accusingly pointing his index finger at me. "We're off topic! Don't try to change the subject on me."

"What subject?"

A smirk crawled onto Frypan's face. "You and Newt."

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I spent the rest of the afternoon convincing Frypan that nothing was going on between Newt and me. In the end, he still didn't sound like he believed it, and I just let it be. What did I care if he thought we were together or something?

Actually, I kind of cared. Which is why I asked Minho about his opinion when we were walking through the Deadheads together. I didn't think anyone in the Glade knew Newt better than him, or knew me better. When we almost reached our usual starting spot, I turned to him and asked, "Do you think there is something going on between Newt and me?"

If I had blinked then, I would have missed the slight tense in Minho's jaw. My throat tightened, even though he hadn't said anything yet. Just the slight change in his attitude made me anxious for the answer.

He answered my question with a question. "Why are you asking me?"

"Well, Frypan was interrogating me earlier today about all that and I thought you would know because, I mean, you're Newt's best friend," I blurted out. "And mine also," I quickly added, just for the emphasis. If anyone knew, it would be Minho.

"Ew," he jokingly said, earning a punch to the shoulder from me. "Kidding, Harps." I waited for him to say more, but he stayed silent. For once, I wished I could read people's minds. What was he thinking about?

"Well?" I asked after a while, quirking up an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Well," he began, "You two are friends, obviously. And you like each other."

"Like, or like like?"

Minho turned to me, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Hell woman, I don't know. How am I supposed to know if he likes you? If you like him?" He turned his gaze back to the path and shrugged. "I suggest you ask the shank himself."

My teeth played with my bottom lip as I thought. Wouldn't that be weird? Extremely awkward? I didn't have to think long for an answer.

"How about you ask him?"

Minho frowned as he turned to look at me once again. "Do you like like him or something?"

I jumped to my defense too quick. "No, no, no. Definitely not." The boy quirked up an eyebrow in suspicion. "I'm just curious."

"Well, if-," Minho began, but quickly cut himself off and grabbed my wrist, pulling me off the path and into the bushes with him. I opened my mouth to protest, but the Runner sent me a cold look, from which I got that I had to shut my mouth and wait for him to tell me when I could open it again.

Ten, or maybe twenty seconds passed in silence, and I was about to ask him what was going on, when two voices came into earshot. This was kind of strange, because Minho and I were usually training in the deepest part of the Deadheads, where nobody usually came. I tried my hardest to make out what they were saying, but they were too far off. They slowly came closer though, and whevener a twig snapped or a leaf crunched underneath one of the boys' shoes, shivers went down my spine. I looked at Minho for any explanation or support at all, but he had his eyes closed, head towards the ground. He was trying to eavesdrop as well.

I tried to do the same as him, but squinting my eyes shut didn't make me hear them any better. Their voices sounded familiar though, too familiar. I furrowed my eyebrows together as I thought. And as I thought, the two boys came closer, until they were almost past the point where Minho and I were hidden. It was so easy to keep my eyes shut now, but my curiosity got the better of me, and I opened them.

The first thing I noticed were their hands. Their fingers were interlocked, which surprised me because I hadn't seen such closeness before in the Glade. I turned to Minho again, but he hadn't moved an inch, not even opened his eyes, which meant that I was on my own here.

The second thing I noticed were the way they talked. Not even what they were saying, but the actual way in which they spoke. There was such gentleness and softness interlaced within their words, I couldn't help but think they were in love.

The third thing I noticed was that the hands belonged to Christian and Lennon. I nearly fell over in shock, though it wasn't a bad kind. I averted my gaze quickly, suddenly ashamed that I was spying on my friends like this.

I tugged on Minho's sleeve before whispering as softly as I could, "Let's get out of here."

The boy shook his head. "They're not far away enough yet."

"Then I'll go without you," I said, and with that, I turned my back to the path and as quietly as I could, made my way back to the Glade. Within seconds, Minho was already by my side, grabbing ahold of my sleeve.

"You shouldn't just leave without me."

"We needed to get out of there anyway. Otherwise, we would have spent the rest of our training time quietly sitting in those bushes," I said matter-of-factly, tugging my sleeve out of his grasp. "Besides, didn't you see who they were?"

He stayed silent, but didn't meet my eyes. He knew.

"We should keep it a secret," I said.

The slightest of a smile tugged at Minho's lips. "Did you suspect that though? I mean, everyone knows that they're friends, but-"

"Secret," I repeated, trying to not get him too excited on the subject. From what I knew, Minho could be quite the blabbermouth.

"Yeah, whatever," Minho replied, rolling his eyes. He looked down at his watch. "We have spent half an hour of my precious time not running, so I suggest we start doing something now."

"First one to make it back to the Glade."

And with that, I took off.

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Hi guys! You know what I'm going to say already - sorry for the late update. No one is really interested in my apology probably, so let's get started on What The Hell Happened In This Chapter. Some Frypan lovin', because who doesn't like some good ol' Frypan? Then, Deadheads, and wait - what, Lennon and Christian are a thing now? Christion? Lennian? I got this idea a while ago, and was pretty excited about it, so why not bring it up as soon as I get the chance. BookRain, same here. Protective Newt is kind of cute, actually. Alby is just a first-class asshat. minstorai - *Minho appears out of nowhere* "I'm always flawless." *disappears again*. Green Eyes Wander, no worries, glad you're enjoying the story. I'm probably going to throw in some Minho POV as well, so stay tuned! percabeth9349, I have actually read the series. Long story short: I used to love it, then not so much. I think the world V. Roth created is pretty cool, but I didn't like how cliché some of the protagonists were. She's a good writer though, even met her last year at an event! (she's very nice in person as well, but I got super shy, so I didn't talk to her much). TheDarkGirl007, thank you, thank you. Let me know what you guys think of this chap in the reviews. Until next time!

- paperkite