It's been a week since then.
Me and Newt still haven't properly talked. As of recently, he started joining our table again but that was about it.
No eye contact, no sign of recognition. Not even a word.
I must admit it hurt me a lot. Because even if there hadn't been anything going on between me and Newt, he was still one of my best friends. I trusted him more than anything, spend most of my days with him close and dreamt of a future where we could all live happily ever after.
But then again, I most definitely deserved every bit of his resentment.
There was no doubt that I'd treated him badly. I'd led him on and used his feelings because I couldn't figure out my own, and even as a friend I simply shouldn't have done that.
So here we were now, with a long road towards healing our friendship ahead of us.
Or so it seemed, because right when that thought formed in my head the brown-eyed cause of my sleepless nights barged into the medjacks office.
In a split second, I misunderstood his sudden visit as being one for me.
Of course, I realized it was not when I noticed the unconscious boy he carried on his back.
But hey, a girl can dream can't she?
The loud thump that resonated through the room when Newt practically threw the boy on the bed in a frenzy made me come to my senses.
I made my way up to the boy, and studied his pupils. Jeff and Clint had heard the commotion from outside, and rushed in to see what was up.
Then I noticed the blood coming from his side, and bit back a gasp as to not worry everyone further.
'What happened?' I ask, not taking my eyes off the boy as I put pressure on his side and Jeff jumps in with a piece of cloth to stop the bleeding.
'He..' Newt paused, catching his breath. He was sweating, signaling he'd ran for the boy's life when bringing him in.
'..was fooling around riding one of the cows, and apparently it got tired of his idiocy and he was catapulted off' he says, once again pausing for a catch of breath.
'Fell right into some broken glass on the side' he finally finishes as he uses his shirt to wipe some of the sweat off his forehead.
I nod, 'explains all the blood' I mumble as I desperately try to ensure he doesn't lose too much of it. Fortunately none of the glass was left in the wound, so we didn't need to remove that.
'Clint, can you get me something hot?' I yell, realizing the wound needed to be closed quicker than it would naturally if we didn't want him to end up in the deadheads.
Clint doesn't hesitate and runs off somewhere, and when he's back with a frying pan I realize he paid a visit to the kitchen.
'Right off the stove, move!' he says loudly when he enters, and Jeff moves the cloth out of the way just in time for me to hold the gaping wound closed from the side before the burning hot frying pan pushes into his skin, filling the room with the terrible stench of burning flesh.
I thanked god the boy was already unconscious, because he probably wouldn't have held out for too long after that anyway.
Clint removes the frying pan after a few long seconds, revealing the sickening sight of first degree burns. Nevertheless, we all sighed in relief when we saw how the wound had been burned shut, at least stopping too much blood from leaving his body.
We all released some of the tension in our shoulders as the worst part was over, just leaving us to care for the burns. And of course, we hoped there weren't any internal bleedings, but figuring none of us had a medical degree and we were just doing whatever we thought was best, we couldn't really do that much if he had those, anyway.
I plopped down in a chair, the suddenness from it all momentarily overwhelming me.
As I stared in front of me, my brain slowly registering it all, Clint put some herbal medicine on the boys burns to cool them down.
A few minutes passed, and after all was done, Jeff and Clint went out to continue on with the other patients.
I sat, no longer overwhelmed by the unconscious boy but now rather overwhelmed by the very conscious boy that still stood there.
I cleared my throat, suddenly very aware of his presence and very, very uncomfortable.
I hear him sigh and feel my muscles tense as a direct response, painfully keeping my gaze focused on the floor.
'Well, that was… intense' his voice is about an octave lower than I'd expected it to be, but maybe that was just because I had barely even heard his voice at all for the past week.
I turn to look at him almost instinctively, so fast I later wondered why I didn't get a whiplash from it.
He notices my shocked expression, and offers me an -dare I say it- apologetic smile.
But that might've been my imagination.
I rush to say something in return, but the nervousness keeps me from forming any comprehensible sentences.
I just kinda stutter to make up for it.
One moment of him looking in my eyes makes realization dawn onto me rather quickly.
That he's no longer angry.
The hurt, that's still there. But the anger has disappeared.
So when he wishes me a good day before turning on his heel, leaving me to stare at his back, I swear I physically feel the burden lift from my shoulders.
Just the simple realization that there might be hope for us, that we might have room left to work on our friendship feels so liberating I'm sobbing into my palms before I can even register it.
It wasn't over yet.
Newt speaking a total of 8 words to me earlier that day allowed me to get some peace of mind.
The whole day, I'd felt strangely giggly, and when looking at it from a third person perspective, one might think my long-time crush had just confessed his undying love for me.
Which, obviously, wasn't the case.
I couldn't help but feel a little too happy about making up with Newt, and though I knew it wasn't completely behind us yet and that we'd both still need quite some time to heal and get rid of our feelings for each other, it was a clear step in the right direction.
I tried not to get ahead of myself too much, because I realized I was threatening to forget all about how I was supposed to keep my distance from him so we wouldn't go back to square one after all the trouble we went through.
That was pretty difficult considering how ecstatic I was after he'd merely told me to 'have a good day'.
For the first time in weeks, I looked forward to dinner. I wanted to see him, curious how the situation would continue to unfold.
So when my face planted right into a chest upon turning around on my way to dinner, I looked up in anticipation only to be slightly disappointed when I was met with a black haired boy rather than a blonde haired one.
Minho hadn't missed my hopeful smile and looked at me, amused with his left eyebrow pulled up.
'Something good happened?' he asks with a hint of tease to his voice.
I shake my head in denial, 'no' I say sheepishly and I turn to head inside, Minho (and Thomas, who I hadn't properly said hi to) following behind me with a ridiculous grin on his face.
After grabbing our food, I scan the cafeteria for an empty table but notice Newt was already sitting at one, waiting for us.
I head towards the table, trying to contain my excitement.
'Hi' I say with every ounce of courage left in my body as I sit down, and I'm silently grateful it doesn't sound as ridiculously high-pitched as I thought it would. This is the first word I speak to him after our intense encounter a good week ago, and I'm nervous I'd somehow misunderstood him being nice earlier and he'd continue to bluntly ignore me.
I had responded to him confessing his feelings with horrible and shameless denial of everything that had existed between the two of us, after all.
He looks up with a soft smile, and my heart skips a beat when I realize how badly I'd missed seeing him smile like that. Genuine. Sincere.
'Hi' he responds, and after he does I notice how both Minho and Thomas are staring at us rather confused. Until they break out into a stupid grin, of course.
I'm glad they don't decide to say something stupid like 'oh, you guys finally made up?' because although I was happy to speak to him, what had happened was obviously still a very sensitive topic for the both of us.
I would prefer to just pretend it didn't happen and slowly build our friendship back up from here, even though I knew that was terribly selfish of me.
I realize I haven't heard a word of the conversation that was unfolding before me, too lost in thought.
'Bud, I get being a runner looks incredibly shucking cool because let's face it - I wouldn't be able to resist a hot Asian stud willingly throwing himself into the Maze with monsters lurking behind every corner on the daily' Minho starts, and as he pauses I chime in with an exaggerated approving nod to go with his narcissism, 'so courageous'
'But you've been appointed to be a Builder already. Besides, not everyone has what it takes to become a legend like us' he finishes, Thomas not looking very satisfied with his words.
'But-' he starts, but Newt cuts him off, probably the first words he adds to the conversation, 'Yeah man, as much as I don't like you, we don't want you to get yourself killed out there with that undying enthusiasm of yours'.
His eyes glint as he teases the new Glader, sounding rather cocky although it was obvious he was messing around.
I wondered when he became so comfortable with Thomas, because how I remember it, he wasn't very fond of him just a week ago.
I decide to join in on the teasing, feeling nostalgic as I'm reminded of how we used to diss each other relentlessly.
'Yeah Thomas, I think you might need to come to terms with the fact that..' I pause dramatically.
'You're a bit too… simple… to venture into the hellhole that is the Maze'
Thomas stares at me in shock, and his eyes only grow even bigger in disbelief when he notices how the three of us are looking at him with fake compassion, pretending we just broke some terrible news to him.
Newt sighs deeply, putting a hand on his shoulder in support.
'We're so sorry' he says quietly.
It takes a good 30 seconds of seriousness before we all burst out laughing rather hysterically.
'You should've seen your face!' Minho screams, holding his belly as he almost falls of his chair laughing.
The shock disappears from Thomas' face and makes place for an amused face, kicking Minho in the leg to punish him for his exaggerated reaction.
As I laugh, I can't help but look at Newt as his laugh goes over in an amused chuckle.
It feels so good to be able to do this again, to just laugh freely and feel happy to be around each other. My laugh becomes a smile as he notices me staring, looking into my eyes for a moment.
I can tell he tries not to be too happy about it as well, but it still only takes a few short seconds for him to break out into a smile, dropping his head in an attempt to hide it.
And for some reason, that breaks my heart.
Because I feel so happy about being able to talk to my best friend again, but watching him hide his smile somehow reminds me of how badly I had played with his heart.
He was always so sincere. His actions had always clearly showed how much he cared for me, but still my tiny brain couldn't come up with a better way to turn him down than to tell him I'd never felt anything for him.
That thought made me a little sick to my stomach.
I start the next morning with breakfast with my favorite boys (although I'd rather die than admit that, especially to Minho).
Everything's become so much more comfortable now that the resentment between us has silently been resolved, so I actually enjoyed spending time with everyone again.
When breakfast was finished, I went my way to the Medjack's office and the boys went theirs, into the Maze.
The day went by quickly, I'd been a little busy for once and before I knew it, evening had come.
As I was cleaning up a bit from the last patient I treated, sudden hectic screaming made me drop everything.
I ran outside, trying to see for myself what caused the uproar.
As I ran closer to where the yelling came from, what they were yelling became more clear.
'CASUALTY!'
My thoughts immediately jumped to Minho and Newt, and my mind went blank in panic as I made my way closer. I half-ran through the Glade, messily pushing people out of the way as I did.
It was only then that I noticed how everyone was gathered around the walls in the distance, and I picked up my pace.
I couldn't really think as I made my way there. No, I didn't want to think.
I just hoped that the day I had been dreading since the day I set foot into the Glade hadn't arrived.
I prayed, and wished and begged that day hadn't come.
As I pushed through the crowd, I didn't see any wounded or dead people. Everyone just sort of stood there, discussing things in a frenzy, making up stories based on the few flashes they'd witnessed.
Consumed by fear when I didn't catch sight of any of the runners, I grabbed the nearest shank by his arm.
'Who is it?' I ask, failing miserably to stay composed.
What if…
No.
It wasn't.
It couldn't be.
The boy looks at me, taken aback by my sudden demand.
'Um.. no one really knows, I just heard someone say that someone carried back a blonde kid. That's all I know'
Fear washes over me, and I completely lose my mind because of it.
My vision becomes blurry as I'm consumed by complete terror and hysteria.
I cannot think clearly. Not one proper thought is formed in my mind, multiple scenarios flash through my brain at the same time, and not one of them looks good.
Newt.
No.
No.
It can't be him.
I know it's not him.
My head pounds as I run over to the first place I can think of.
They must be holding a meeting right away.
I don't even properly register how I get there. I just run. Run on instinct.
When I almost got to the door, I realized for the first time that I was crying.
Hot tears had left a trail to mark where I came from, and I could now feel them burning on my cheeks.
I didn't sob, they just silently kept on falling. I was panicking so badly I thought I was hyperventilating.
Without hesitating, I stormed into the room and the first thing I laid eyes on was the body in the center of the room.
I freeze.
I don't even properly notice all the runners in the room.
All I see is the body, covered with a blanket.
I hold my breath, slowly making my way over. It was only when a hand took mine that I noticed how badly I was shaking.
I looked up, tears rolling down my face.
Minho.
'Alex, are you okay?' he asks, his face marked with worry.
I look at him in shock, opening my mouth to scream at him for asking me something so ridiculous in this situation when I finally notice the boy standing behind him, looking at me with the same worried eyes.
Those brown eyes I could stare at for days.
It is only then that I finally break my silent crying, turning into a sobbing mess as I lunge myself at Newt and hug him tighter than I ever had before.
He gasps for breath from the impact and stumbles back a few steps in the process.
Thank god… thank god..
I tighten my grip on him even more, placing my ear to his chest, so incredibly relieved I could still hold him with a beating heart.
'I- I thought…' I start, voice raspy and trembling, 'I thought it was you' I admit as my tears soak his shirt.
I feel his breath hitch in shock, and after a few seconds he wraps one arm tightly around my waist and buries his face in my neck, as if he was holding on for dear life.
My pounding heart raced even harder at the contact as I resisted the urge to plant kisses all over his face, like a mother who was reunited with her lost child at the mall.
It scared me how much I had come to care for him.
I'd never felt more relieved just by being able to hold him, and as he used his other arm to hold my head into his chest like I'm the most important thing in the world I know I'm too far gone. I had been all along.
I realize that no matter how hard I try to resist, I will never be able to stop myself from feeling for him.
And maybe I was finally ready to admit that to myself.
