She ran in the woods.
She was getting stronger, faster. But she didn't run to be fast. She ran to vent.
She had learned to love the adrenaline, the blood pumping in her ears, her head feeling hot and her legs screaming for her to stop when she took it too far. It was like therapy in a way.
Eleanor was more than glad she had asked Minho for advice because it really did work. And it also didn't hurt to have something to be proud of for once in her life, or at least the amount of life she remembered.
It was surprising that no one had noticed her escaping to the safety of the forest and coming back hours later red faced and drenched in sweat.
Eleanor had thought someone would have noticed it by then, but they were boys. They wouldn't notice something different with her even if she'd grown another head. And the only ones who ever paid little to none attention to her were the Runners, and they were still out in the Maze. Well, and Newt, she guessed. But he was usually pretty busy. She knew Zart wouldn't even bother to think about her. He was more than glad to forget about her as soon as she left her working place.
That day, running was specially exhilarating. She felt like she really needed it. That was why she had taken the chance to sneak into her safe spot as soon as possible. She didn't even care if someone saw her that day. She needed her therapy.
It was a lot easier for her to ingore the fact that someone had sent children to a secluded unsolvable puzzle with electronical monsters lurking around when she was in the middle of the woods. Those things didn't exist when she ran. She was free when she ran. She decided her route. She controlled her life. Although, she knew that illusion would inevitably vanish as soon as she stepped out of the trees.
It probably wasn't the healthiest thing to do either, to pretend something wasn't real. But it helped, so lying to herself was good enough for Eleanor.
She was in the middle of her last lap when she noticed it again. The glint of gold.
She had seen it a few times before but always attributed it to a trick of the evening sun rays.
But this time she was sure, she had seen it.
Before she had time to make a decision, her feet were already carrying her over.
She almost screamed as she felt something on her boot but quickly caught herself when she realized it was a simple Beetle blade. It was a stupid name, that was for sure, but glader slang was never know to be very original. She guessed it was a fitting name, as good as any. At least that's what Minho called them. To her, they looked more like cockroaches than beetles, but the blade part was definetly right. She had a scar on her finger to prove it.
She was quick to continue her search for something gold. She didn't like those things one bit and she was more than happy to put some distance between her and those little robots.
That was when she heard a rustling in the leaves.
She had been so focused on what she was seeing, she hadn't stopped to listen.
It sounded like someone walking, or running most likely.
She didn't hesitate on changing her path and speeding her pace. The mysterious golden glimmer forgotten.
She forced herself to go faster but the footsteps were always one step ahead and too far to distinguish anyone.
She tried to get her legs to move faster, but they were already screaming for her to stop after her long run.
She had no doubts however, it was definetly someone. So she did not stop.
Just when she knew they had almost reached the limit of the trees and the stranger was going to dissapear into the busy glade, she saw it.
A glit of gold.
Except it wasn't gold.
The same reflection she had been seeing for weeks was not something. It was someone.
All this time wondering what the gold light was and she had never considered the possibility of someone being there, someone watching her, watching her run.
The realization made her stop in her tracks for a moment. Someone had been spying on her.
When she plucked up the courage to continue her search she knew it was too late.
If she hadn't caught up to him before she would definetly not catch him then.
Her legs felt weak and she had to hold on to a tree to keep balance.
She knew whoever it was had already faded into the crowded Glade.
She felt violated, and embarrased.
At least she knew something for sure. He was blonde.
Almost two months. It didn't feel like that long.
In two days, a new greenie would come up, but Eleanor could have sworn only a couple of days had passed.
Her first month in the glade had been excruciantingly long. She'd thought it would never end. It had been an eventful month aswell, with the new environment, the new people, Minho, Gally...
But then, she had gotten used to the place, as accustomed as one could get to a place like that, she supposed.
Nothing extremely out of the ordinary had happened on the second month: no way out found, no accidents, no more Griever's attacks...
So, when Newt had announced over dinner that theywere going to get a new Greenie soon she was surely surprised.
It was one of those rare occasions on which the Second-in-command joined her for dinner.
It had been a long day of work for her, which meant she had to work after everyone was done with their dinner; which Eleanor was sure it was just the product of Zart being annoyed at her. Eleanor hadn't felt like arguing so she'd followed his orders obligingly.
Newt had showed up with a small smile and tired eyes, talking about a reunion with the Runners and no dinner.
She didn't really mind his reasons. She was glad she didn't have to eat on her own.
He is very talkative today, she noted.
That was weird in itself. It wasn't that Newt never talked, but he didn't chit-chat. He was usually the one to voice short but useful imputs. He was never one to ramble, at least not with her.
Eleanor observed him carefully.
He looked far too invested in the conversation, managing a smile every time he stopped to catch his breath.
Eleanor reaturned the smile as sincerely as she could but it was hard to focus with the odd picture in front of her.
She chewed and swallowed her food, trying to pay more attention to his speech.
"And then the hen broke loose and you can't imagine how long it took for us to catch it." He laughed, rather loudly.
She tried to smile in return.
Newt rarely laughed, specially not so openly. Smirks? Sure. Chuckles? Yes. But laughing was another story.
That was when her sight drifted down to the fork on his hand. His food was merely untouched, his hand gripped the utensil, squeezing. She followed the marked veins on his hand and arms that gave away just how much pressure he was actually applying.
She had been so focused on trying to find something in his expression that she had barely noticed he hadn't eaten a single bite since he had sat down.
"Are you okay?" She asked suddenly, surprising the pair of them.
Newt's laughter stopped and his smile faded completely for a second.
"I'm sorry." She spoke again, "You just seem... tense."
She guessed 'tense' was a whole lot better than 'weird'.
"No." He said, "No... I mean, yes. Yes, I'm fine."
He sounded sincere enough, but the younger girl was not convinced.
His face was the definition of innocence, only Eleanor knew better.
She dropped the fork she was holding and shot her hand forward, covering his own. Her fingers wrapped around his holding the fork.
"The fork is innocent." She said, smirking slightly. "You might want to let it live."
She could feel his muscles relax under her touch once he had processed her words and the surprise from her acts had died down.
The metal clattered on the table as it was released.
Newt let out a short nervous chuckle.
"Honestly, I'm alright." He spoke again, "Just a bit stressed, that's all."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
It was obvious he wasn't telling the truth. It didn't take a genious to figure that out. But she knew Newt well enough to accept she wasn't going to get a straight answer out of him.
He had strange ways of coming clean and none of them ever involved an interrogatory.
However, she didn't tear her gaze away from him, as if by staring she would be able to descipher the boy in front of her. But that technique had never worked for her before, so she should have known it would not work then.
Newt avoided her stare, visibly uncomfortable.
Only when his hand twitched under hers did she realise she was still touching him.
She swiftly pulled her hand away, crimson red invading her cheeks uninvited.
Why could she never act normal infront of that boy? It was infuriating.
The blonde boy then looked at her, and it was her turn to look away.
Her fingertips still tingled, remembering the warm touch from moments ago.
She willed herself to stop getting distracted with minor details.
And then, as if an angel had dropped from the sky to save her from the awkwardness, someone arrived.
He certainly made a loud arrival, dropping down next to Eleanor, making her almost jump up.
"Hey Shanks, how's it going?"
Eleanor turned to look at Minho. He had spoken very cheerfully, which was odd in itself. But the cheerful greeting was a contradiction to the expression he wore.
He looked... angry.
He dedicated her a big smile as he saw she was looking, but still did not look happy in one bit. Then he turned to look at Newt.
With Minho's eyebrows raised at him, the Second-in-command looked visibly uncomfortable.
My god. Thought Eleanor, These boys are as good at concealing their feelings as Zart is.
If Eleanor didn't know any better, she would have thought the Runner was trying to intimidate Newt. She knew better.
Minho and Newt were not as close as Newt and Alby but they were undoubtedly friends. She couldn't think of any reason why Minho would be crossed with his friend.
In fact, no one was ever crossed with the Second-in-command. He was always the good guy.
It was true that Minho wasn't exactly a pacifist but she was sure he couldn't hate Newt. Hell! Not even Gally could hate Newt!
"Hey, Min." She said, trying to act normal, "Have you eaten?"
He looked back at her. She wasn't sure if she was imaginning the twinkle in his eyes that she had only seen on one occasion, when he was picking a fight with Gally at Pablo's bonfire.
"Yeah." He replied, "Ben fetched us some sandwiches when we got back."
She tried to ignore the feeling in her gut when she realized their shoulders were touching.
She blamed those stupid dreams again. It had been weeks since her first one and since then, she'd had two more.
She really despised those dreams because they made her look at the Runner in a completely different light.
Minho, above all, was her friend. She did not wish for that to change.
She tried to distract herself and noticed how Newt's eyes followed their interaction, his expression still odd.
She smiled at him, trying to make him feel better; even though she knew nothing of what the blonde Glader was thinking. Newt managed to produce a small smile in return.
When Eleanor looked back to Minho, she found his eyes were squinted in suspicion as he regarded them.
What is up with these two today, seriously? Eleanor thought.
They were both acting specially weird.
In Newt's case that was normal for her, but Minho was always like an open book.
"So..." She said, not liking the awkward silence. "What was the meeting about?"
She then caught Newt gulping, even though he had yet to touch his food.
She had hit bull's eye. Something about the meeting had him acting tense and jumpy.
"What meeting?" He asked in an almost perfect innocent tone.
She frowned. "You said you and Alby had a meeting with the runners."
"Did I?" He said so convincingly, she almost believed him. "Well, it wasn't a meeting, really."
It was perfectly clear he wasn't going to talk about it and she didn't want to push her luck.
"Okay." She said, deciding to turn to her friend next to her for answers. "I suppose you won't tell me what it was about either."
Minho laughed.
"Oh, El." He said, throwing an arm over her shoulder. It was such a familiar gesture that she didn't even think twice about it. "You know me so well."
What she did not miss was the look he dedicated to Newt, smug somehow.
She sighed. She had had enough of their weird behaviour which they obviously didn't want to talk about.
"You two are acting really weird right now." She said boldly, and then added, "Well, weirder than usual... I'm leaving"
She took one last bite of her food dramatically, trying to make a statement and stood up. Minho's arm fell from her shoulder in the process. She only got more odd looks that she couldn't make sense of.
Eleanor kept thinking about their strange behaviour the following day.
Newt still looked on edge about something and he kept being extremely nice to everyone, which wasn't anything weird in itself but Eleanor knew something was up.
Judging the way he had resumed on avoiding her, she knew she was right.
Some of the other boys seemed on edge as well, but Eleanor atributed it to the arrival of the new Greenie on the evening to come.
She thought about Minho's odd acting too. However, since he usually left too early in the morning for her to see him, she hadn't been able to check if it had been just a one time thing.
Whatever the reason behind their moodswings, Eleanor was kind of glad it gave her something to think about.
It was a particulary hot day and anything that could distract her from her job, and from the fact that she had been there for two months, was more than welcomed.
Except Zart, she much rather he did not talk to her at all. She was actually surprised he hadn't complained about her yet that day.
She looked for him through the field wondering if maybe her Keeper had fallen prey to some unknown sickness, but she spotted him working as usual and sweating... a lot.
It didn't take long for her to stop staring. A sweaty Zart was not something she enjoyed watching. She couldn't blame him; she, herself, was sweating strongly.
She cleared the hair out of her eyes as she resumed her wroking, hoping to at least take it away from the sweat but it was impossible. The rest of the track-hoes seemed to be going through the same thing as she was.
Eleanor, distracted from her task again, wondered how Newt wasn't melting as she observed the older boy. He was always so warm, he must have been boiling.
Only when her eyes spotted honey did she realize Newt was looking back at her. Before she could look away, he did, with a nervous tremble of his lip. As the bright sun reflected in his golden locks, she froze.
She had seen it, the glimmer.
But no, it couldn't be.
She couldn't very well accuse Newt of spying on her just because he was blonde.
Also, why would Newt spy on her? It made no sense. Sure, the boy was weird but he wasn't a stalker or anything like that. Plus, he rarely paid any attention to her on a day to day basis so why would he be insterested on her schedule after work.
But who else could it be? She thought as she began working once again.
There was Zart, but the taller boy could barely stand the sight of her while she was wroking. She couldn't imagine him creeping up on her behind a bush.
He was definetly out.
Clint was out as well, the med-jack could never go anywhere without his Keeper. She swore sometimes Jeff and him looked like they were attached at the hip like two school girls. She wouldn't be surprised if some day she'd find them swaping friendship bracelets. She supressed a giggle but kept working.
Who else was blonde?
Ben!
No, Ben couldn't be. He always came back from the maze after her runs. And even if when he arrived earlier, he had to be in the map room. Also, she could not picture the cheery boy following her into the forest.
She could not picture Newt either but, on the other hand, he had looked very nervous around her lately. But what about his limp? Could he outrun her with his bad leg? The truth was, she had never seen him run so he might've been able to.
But why on earth would he watch her run? For weeks even!
The boy was odd but he wasn't creepy.
Also, would nobody notice if the Second-in-command was missing everyday?
It made no sense. Then again, she couldn't make sense as to why anyone would want to spy on her.
She hadn't planned on running that day, scared of someone observing her, but it was clear that she couldn't ignore the situation.
What a better way to solve a mystery than to go back to the scene of the crime?
A few hours later, a tired and sweating brunette young girl made her way through the clearing towards the shower; scorning herself for thinking whoever had been watching her would do it again after being caught.
She had stayed in the woods for longer than she was used to in hopes of catching the mystery person. So she had missed dinner, again.
She tried shaking her mind off of it. She wanted to get to bed early. The following day would surely be eventful.