CHAPTER 6

'You know… you've only been here three days and you're already irresistible,' Newt jokes, nudging my shoulder. We're walking side by side, hand in hand, to what looks like a miniature woods.

'What do you mean?' I ask, laughing.

'Well just think about it. Me, Clint, Jeff… we all can't help but fall for you.' Newt stops walking and turns to face me.

Flustered, I say, 'I wouldn't say anyone's falling for me… Clint and Jeff are my friends. They're like…' I hesitate before continuing, '… family to me.' I take a deep breath and meet Newt's eyes. That friendly sparkle is there.

'Yeah?' He moves closer. 'Well what about me?'

I blush. Unsure of what to do, I play along. 'What about you?' I pretend to think. 'Hmmm, that's a good question.'

He throws his head back and laughs. I can't explain it, but his laugh makes me feel like there's electricity coursing through my veins. He places a hand on my waist, and all the electricity seems to flow directly to where he touches me. For a moment we just stand there, his hand on my waist, looking into each other's eyes. Then he pulls away, takes my hand again, and we keep walking to the woods.

'Welcome to the Deadheads,' he announces. 'This is where we get a lot of our wood, and there's a graveyard way in the back over there.' He points off in the distance. 'That's kinda why we call it the Deadheads. We tend to avoid that area. Too many bad memories.'

We walk in silence for a while, just taking in the scenery. The Deadheads are gloomy, eerie, but they have a sort of spooky beauty to them. The deeper into the Deadheads we go, the more creepy it gets. Some of the trees have fallen over the path, making it difficult to walk through. Other trees are growing sporadically, with branches going all over the place. It's chaotic, uncanny, and beautiful.

All of a sudden we come to a large, ivy-covered Wall. Newt takes a deep breath.

'This is where I landed.' He motions to a large rock. 'Alby and I put this rock here after I recovered. It used to frighten me to think that I did… what I did.' He walks over and sits on the rock, motioning for me to sit next to him. I do. Newt pauses before continuing, choosing his next words carefully. 'It used to frighten me. But now it reminds me of an obstacle I've overcome. I was weak when I jumped. But by surviving through it, I'm stronger.'

I look up at the Wall and notice a large amount of ivy that looks as though it was ripped off the Wall, about 50 feet up. Newt notices where I'm looking and sighs. 'I slipped when I was climbing. I thought I was going to fall right there. I wasn't scared, but it was a little startling. The ivy tore from under my feet and I was hanging on by my fingers. I… I pulled myself up and I kept climbing. When I got to the top of the Wall, my heart sank.'

I don't remember reaching for Newt's arm, but I'm gripping his bicep, leaning into him, holding him close to me as he tells his story.

'My intention wasn't to jump. I had seen a lot of my friends die. I didn't believe it when people said they had tried everything. So I climbed the Wall, tried to see if I could spot a way out, see if I could get everyone out. Needless to say, I couldn't. It's just Walls, as far as the eye can see. All around us. I felt hopeless. So, I turned around, and jumped. I wasn't thinking. I just jumped.'

I don't know if it's my place to ask, but I do. 'The…' I gulp. 'The walls must be 200 feet tall. How…'

'How'd I survive?' He smiles sadly. 'I have no bloody clue. I remember hitting a couple trees on the way down, I'm guessing they slowed my fall. It's not like I made it out without a scratch, though. I broke both my legs, my arms, most of my ribs, I had a horrible concussion. I told you before, Alby saw me jump and came after me. Clint patched me up real good, Alby took care of me. But I still have that limp.' He looks at me. 'I've never told anyone about this before.'

I nod. I knew that he was going to bring me somewhere that meant something to him, but I didn't think he was going to tell me something so personal. He's making himself vulnerable, whether on purpose or not, and I can't help myself. I touch his cheek, and look at him. He meets my eyes slowly.

'Grace,' he whispers, 'there's something else I want to tell you that I've never told anybody.'

'What is it?' I ask.

'I love you,' he says, touching my forehead with his. He takes a deep breath. 'I know we just met, but I can't shake the feeling that we were close before we were sent here. As soon as I saw you in the Box, I knew. You're different. Remember this morning when I told you that? You're different. And it's not because you're a girl, or because you ran into the Maze without thinking, or because you seem to stand out in a crowd. It's because I look at you and my heart flutters, and I can talk to you and tell you things. I know that I've never felt this way about anyone before. You… you make me crazy, Grace. I can't put words to it. But you make me crazy.'

'I…' I start, but I can't find words to complete my sentence. I'm speechless. Did he really just tell me he loves me? I've known him for three days. But… his words don't surprise me. What surprises me is that I… I think I feel the same way. Or at least, I could someday. I'm about to tell him this, but as I open my mouth the dream I had of Thomas flashes through my brain. The hallway. Holding hands. The almost-kiss. I could love Thomas, too.

And so, because I can't tell him I love him or I don't, I do the only thing I can think of. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into a warm, tight embrace.

No one brags that they had the most magical "first hug" ever. It's not even our first hug. Newt has hugged me before, once. But that was for comfort. This time, it's a hug initiated by emotions. His lean but strong arms wrap around my waist as I nuzzle my nose into his shoulder. He holds me tightly, close to him, and my heart leaps. The electricity I felt in our earlier embrace is back. For the endurance of the hug, I forget his story, I forget Thomas. It's just me and Newt, and yes it's just a hug, but sometimes embraces like this are more than words or any other type of embrace.

Newt and I walk around and talk for the next few hours. Around 4 o'clock we are walking back toward the Homestead, to Clint and Jeff's hut. We are stopped by a desperate shout.

'Newt!'

I turn. Minho is running toward us. But something is wrong. He's holding something. And he's running slowly.

I don't realize until Minho gets closer that he's not holding something. He's holding someone.

Thomas.

He's been Stung.