Chuck. Where is Chuck.
I scanned the Glade, looking for "the only person shorter than me". And I wasn't that short. They're all really tall. Well, compared to me anyways. But I didn't have any other description of Chuck, so I was going on what Nick gave me.
Suddenly, someone ran past me. I jumped back. The boy sprinted away towards a tree, the one that had a platform at the top. The lookout. He hid behind it, then disappeared, presumably climbing a ladder to the top. You had to get up there somehow, I guess. But he was in a hell of a hurry.
"Greenie!" A voice shouted at me. I looked around for the source. A tall boy with dark hair marched towards me. I froze. His face was contorted into a snarl as he approached, and I glanced around the area nervously. No witnesses.
"Where is he?" He demanded. I stared at him. He glared back.
"Chuck." He spat. "Where'd that fat shank go running to?" So that was Chuck. Not wanting him to beat up the poor kid, which he was clearly thinking of doing, I pointed towards the Homestead. The boy grunted and stalked off towards the rickety shack of a building. He was gone, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
I watched the dark haired boy enter the Homestead, then ran towards the lookout. If he came out again, I didn't want to be here when he got back. Reaching the tree, I found the ladder. As I'd suspected it was on the other side, hiding anyone who decided to climb it from the rest of the Gladers. Carefully, I climbed up and pushed on the wooden hatch at the top.
"It wasn't me, I swear!" An unexpectedly high voice defended itself. A short, chubby boy with brown curls of hair was holding up his hands in defense. His eyes were squeezed shut, like he was waiting to be attacked. Clearly, he was expecting the boy who had shouted at me. I snickered. I felt bad for the kid, but it was a little funny. Chuck (presumably) open his eyes cautiously.
"You're not Gally." He said, confused. I shook my head. Gally must've been the one looking for him. I'd heard the name before. According to the others, his reputation reflected his terrible personality. Chuck breathed a sigh of relief. Taking this as a good sign, I climbed the rest of the way out and shut the hatch behind me, sitting across from Chuck.
"You're the Greenie, aren't you?" He asked. That word again. I nodded. "I'm Chuck." I held out a hand. We shook.
"I like you." He decided. "We're gonna be friends." I smiled.
"Chuck!" Even at this height, I could hear Gallys voice booming across the Glade. Chuck's eyes widened in panic. Slowly, he leaned over and looked down into the Glade. I followed his example and saw Gally storming across the grass. Quickly, we leaned back out of sight.
"That's Gally." Chuck told me. "He's just mad cause I scared him." I raised an eyebrow. If that was true, Gally had a problem with overreactions. Chuck looked sheepish.
"Okay, I screamed through the window while he was in the bathroom." Chuck admitted, giggling. "His face was pretty funny. But I didn't know it was Gally in there. I would not have done that, he's gonna kill me." Chuck glanced over the side again and I followed suit. Gally had disappeared from sight.
"I think he's gone." Chuck whispered. I laughed quietly. He grinned. "See, you're fun. You laugh super easy. Nobody else likes my jokes." I frowned. Chuck was nice, why didn't the other boys like him? He saw my confusion.
"They all think I'm annoying cause I talk a lot." Chuck confessed. "You don't think that, do you?" I shook my head.
"Good. Cause we're gonna be buddies."
I sat with Chuck at dinner, despite the many other offers I'd gotten. If they weren't going to be nice to Chuck then I wasn't going to sit with them. And I couldn't leave Chuck all by himself, now could I? Gally's been glaring at both of us all through dinner, he's probably figured out I lied to him earlier. Wonder how long that took him.
"...and then you're supposed to try out for stuff. But I dunno if they're gonna make you try working with Winston, he's a Slicer. They're kinda creepy. I don't think girls like blood and all that stuff. You don't, do you?" Chuck finally stopped and took a breath. I'd been starting to get worried for him, he'd been talking for a while. I shook my head, agreeing with him. Chuck shoveled food into his mouth, practically inhaling the rest of his dinner.
"I didn't think you would." He said. He glanced at me pushing my food around. "You eat really slow, you know that?" I eat slow because I have actual table manners, I thought. I shrugged. Chuck stood up. "I'm gonna get more food." He walked back over and stood behind the other boys, all of them getting seconds or thirds. Impossibly, they hadn't run out of anything yet. I'd heard jokes about the cook, Frypan, but they were proven to be just that. His cooking was amazing.
The sound of the door banging open was louder than everyone's voices, leading most of us to look towards the door for the cause of the noise. Newt, Minho, and a handful of others I didn't recognize trudged to the line.
"Alright, I know y'all are gettin thirds, let em past." Frypan told the others. The boys who had just arrived (Runners, I realized), were allowed to go through at the front of the line to get their dinner. Newt and Minho sat down across from me. Chuck came back with Ben and they joined us at the table. Why did everyone want to sit next to me? I can't even talk, I can't be much fun to hang out with.
The Runners ate their dinner like it was their last meal, so fast I was afraid they'd end up eating their plates by mistake. Clearly none of them remember what manners are. Or what a fork is. I cringed as Minho ate his baked potato with his hands. He frowned.
"Wha?" His mouth was full of food. I winced and pushed my dinner around with my fork. "M hungry, okay?" He managed. Newt, who had somehow managed to eat like a civilized person but still inhale his dinner, chuckled.
"You get enough food there, shank?" He grinned at Minho. I smiled. Minho swallowed the rest of his potato.
"No, I did not." He declared. "If you'll excuse me." He stood and pushed away from the table, heading back to the line.