CHAPTER 11

'What do you want?' I say to Newt, walking to the stairs. I need to give Thomas his water.

'I just need to talk to you, okay?' he says.

'Okay,' I concede. 'Fine. But I have to run this upstairs to Thomas first.' I gesture at the cup of water in my hand.

'Alright,' Newt says. 'I'll wait for you outside.'

I climb the stairs and enter Thomas' room.

Damnit. It appears that Thomas listened to Jeff and me when we told him to change… the only issue is he's doing it right now. He's wearing nothing but black underwear, and I just accidentally walked in on him.

I try to leave the room quietly, but I run into the door frame. Stupid.

'Grace!' He turns, startled. 'I, um… well, that was quick…'

I turn and leave the room, closing the door. Damn… those abs were defined. What was that, an 8-pack?!

A moment later, Thomas (fully clothed) opens the door with a mortified expression on his face. 'Uh… hi.'

'Hi,' I say. I can't help it… I start laughing, which only makes him look even more mortified.

'Stop laughing at me!' he says with a sheepish grin. 'Ugh, that was so awkward.' Thomas shakes his head.

'Oh, come on,' I say, handing him the water. 'It's not that big of a deal. Besides, you have nothing to be ashamed of.'

Thomas blushes even more.

'I'll be right back, okay? Clint and Jeff will keep an eye on you for a bit.'

'Where are you going?' he asks.

I hesitate. 'Um… well, Newt asked to talk to me.'

'Oh,' Thomas says. There's a trace of jealousy in his voice, but barely. He shrugs off whatever jealousy was there and says, 'Okay, I'll see you in a bit!'

I smile, wave goodbye, and go downstairs. I yell, 'Hey Clint?'

'Yeah?' The response comes from the back room. I pop my head in and see Clint and Jeff playing a card game.

'Can you guys keep an eye on Thomas? I have to talk to Newt. I'll be right back.'

'Yeah, go ahead. See you later.' Clint says.

A few moments later I'm walking around the Glade with Newt. I realize that he's leading me to the Deadheads… the place where he told me about his suicide attempt. The place where he told me he loves me.

'Look, I'm just gonna say it,' Newt says. 'I thought I was important to you. I thought I meant something to you.'

Sure enough, we're walking through the Deadheads, straight to the large stone that marked where he fell.

Newt continues: 'I wanted to bring you back here, because this is where I felt it the most. The only person who knows the truth about my jump is you. Alby doesn't know I wasn't planning on jumping. He doesn't know I was looking for a way out. But you do. Because I told you. Because I trust you. Because I love you.' Newt takes my hand and looks me in the eyes. 'And I think you love me, too.'

I pull my hand away from him. 'You think what?'

'You feel it, too. You know we have a special connection. You know that it's us, not you and Thomas, who should…'

'Hold up,' I say. 'Let me stop you right there. You don't get to decide if I feel the same way or not. And you definitely don't get to decide who I end up with. Haven't you stopped to think that maybe I don't want to be with anyone right now? I mean, I'm stuck in a Maze full of creatures that can kill us or Sting us or whatever. And I'm the only girl in a group of like twenty guys. I've been here four days. I can't remember my life. I'm half convinced I'm going insane. And you have the nerve to tell me that you think I might love you? And that I belong with you? And that you are better than Thomas? And we're gonna live happily ever after… even though we are stuck inside a Maze with no way out? Are you kidding me? And to top it all off, you don't even apologize for overreacting. You blame me because Thomas told me he loves me, because for some reason that's my fault. And then you ice me out, refuse to talk to me, but all of a sudden at breakfast you're smiling and asking if you can sit by me, and we have the most awkward breakfast I've ever had, that I can remember at least. And I stand up, and I say that I have to go to work. My job. My role here in the Glade, the one thing that is giving me purpose, but no. According to you, I'm going to work because I want to go see Thomas. Not because I love helping people, but because I want to go see Thomas.' I breathe heavily. Newt stares at me with his mouth hanging open. He looks shocked, speechless.

Before Newt has the chance to say anything I storm off and head to the hut. I can't believe it. This is unbelievable. Newt… he was so nice and welcoming just a few days ago.

I re-enter the hut and almost run into Jeff.

'Grace, I'm so glad you're back. Grab a bucket of water and some cloth towels and hurry up to Thomas' room. He's seizing.'

'He's what?' I ask, but I don't need an answer. I heard what Jeff said. I try to stop thinking about the conversation I just had with Newt so I can focus on Thomas. I grab the bucket, fill it with cold water, and find a stack of clean towels. Then I race upstairs, careful not to spill, and enter Thomas' room.

He's shaking uncontrollably. His arms and legs thrash out in random directions, occasionally kicking Clint and Jeff, who are both struggling to hold him down.

'Guys!' I yell. 'Let go!'

'You're crazy!' Clint yells back. 'He's going to hurt himself!'

'No,' I say. 'You can't hold down a seizing person. You could cause him to dislocate a shoulder or something.'

Clint looks at Jeff. After a second, they let go of Thomas. I approach the bed.

I reach across Thomas. My mind tells me to put him in a recovery position.

I pull him so that he lays on his side with his head resting on an arm, and the seizing becomes less violent.

'This will keep his airway clear for now,' I say. I have absolutely no idea how I know that. Then I gasp. 'Could this have happened because he was moving around too much? Before I left we were messing around and hitting each other with pillows. You don't think it's my fault, do you?'

'No,' Jeff says. 'We see this all the time. We call it the Aftershock. After the Changing, sometimes there are a few more episodes. Sometimes the episodes make you remember more things. Other times they don't do anything. We haven't figured it out yet. But no, it's not your fault. Don't worry.'

I sigh, relieved. 'Thank goodness.' Thomas stops seizing but remains unconscious. I place a wet cloth on his forehead.

Clint touches my shoulder. 'He'll be okay.'

'Can I sit here with him alone for a bit?' I ask.

Clint nods, and they leave the room.