Disclaimer: The Maze Runner [trilogy] (C) James Dashner

Can't remember if I had this edited or not. Shit.

Warning(s): Typos, def. Short chapter - sorry!

Part IX

Thomas woke up to the amused smile of Teresa hanging over him.

"Wha-?!" He jerked away, banging his shoulder against the wall.

She laughed, slipping off the bed. "Calm down, it's just me. You left the door open so I thought you were awake."

"What are you doing here?"

Teresa shrugged, looking bored. "No one told me they had plans today so I decided to see what you were up to. We don't get to see each other much, Tom. It's sad." She gestured to the door, still half-open, and said, "Want to grab lunch? We have a lot to catch up on."

Thomas smiled. "Yeah, sure."

Hanging out with Teresa brought back fond memories to Thomas. They'd been friends since elementary, but drifted apart during the four years they were away from each other. Teresa's appearance in WCKD U. had been an unexpected but pleasant surprise. Thomas wasn't sure what she was studying, they didn't really bother with things like that. They only talked about their hopes and wishes for the future and how her relationship with Aris fared. (Thomas didn't really like the guy, but he supposed he would never accept any guy she dated.) Even now, as Thomas munched on a grilled chicken wrap and Teresa picked at her French fries, their conversation wheeled back around to Aris and their friends.

"I have no classes with him this semester, but he promised to make better effort in sparing free time for us."

"I told that to the guys too."

Teresa chewed on a french fry, her blue eyes inquisitive. "What's with you and them anyway?"

Thomas felt his heart skip a beat. "What do you mean?"

"Are you dating Newt or Minho?" She dipped her fry into the small container of ketchup. "I always thought they were dating each other but Rachel said she saw Minho get really cozy with you the other day. Did they break up?"

"Uh, not exactly."

She frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He cleared his throat, surprisingly uncomfortable. Teresa was an opened minded girl, had always been, but Thomas wasn't sure exactly how far that extended. He didn't want to trouble her, or worse, didn't want to lose her friendship over something like this. Still, not telling her was something he didn't want to do. They were childhood friends after all.

"It's… complicated." He said instead, wincing.

She smirked. "I'm listening."

"Alright but… don't freak out." He pleaded.

She sat up straighter and gave a small nod to show he had her undivided attention. Thomas took a deep breath, his hands trembling.

"I'm dating them both. Together."

Teresa's brows rose to her hairline.

"You mean like a polyamorous relationship? I didn't know you were into that."

"I'm not—not really—but…" He shrugged, unable to find the words. "I don't know. They asked me and I said yes."

She laughed, startling the boy.

"You haven't changed at all. You're still just as curious as when we were kids."

He blushed, embarrassed but relieved. She didn't seem at all bothered by his poly-relationship. She eyed him then, blue eyes searching his face for something he wasn't sure she would find. Her smile turned soft, a strange tenderness lighting her eyes.

"Are you okay?" You seem kind of… on edge lately. Are you… are you happy with them?"

"Yes." The word slipped from his lips without hesitance. Thomas found it was the truth. He was happy with Minho and Newt. He only wished they'd been honest with him about their experimentation, but honesty was a two-way streak. He should have confronted them sooner.

"It's just…" Ugh, did he want to talk about it? He felt the girl nudge his shoulder, a silent cajoling to continue. Thomas worried his bottom lip, wincing at the freshly made cut on his lip. "We've been having trouble in our, uh, intimate life. I found out that they've been experimenting with me in the hopes of fixating it."

Teresa nodded. "Okay, and?"

Thomas worried his lip again. "They did this for two months without telling me. And I just… ugh, I don't know. I don't know how to feel." He confessed. He ran a hand through his hair, his heart racing in his chest. "On the one hand, I'm angry they didn't tell me, but on the other it's my fault for not confronting them sooner. They did this for my benefit, to make me feel good during sex but…" he trailed off, his leg bounding against the pavement.

Concern washed over Teresa's face as he ranted, her French fries forgotten in her hand.

"They're different with each other than they are with me, Teresa. They're… they're cute together, like an actual couple in love." Another hand brushed through his brown locks. His knee bobbed up and down. "I—I don't know. I feel like when it's us together, it's all about the sex and who cums; who doesn't. It's great, it's exciting, but it's painful and lonely and—and—but when's it's them together, it's not about sex. It's… its love and romance. It's intimacy. I—I just—I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm rambling."

"Thomas," she pressed a gentle hand against his knee, stopping his erratic bouncing. She gazed into his eyes, the worry palpable on her face. He felt bad again for knowing he was on the reason she looked so distraught.

"Thomas, hey, if you're so troubled about this, why don't you talk to them? You shouldn't have to feel this jealous about a relationship you're in." She reached out and rubbed her thumb tenderly along the contour of his cheekbone. "Just talk to them, okay?" She gave him a sweet, motherly smile. "That's all. Just talk to them. No more hiding. Alright?"

He let out a shaky breath and smiled weakly. "Thanks Teresa." It was easier said than done.

He walked her back to the two-bedroom dorms and watched her go. He lamented not having any classes with Teresa. They barely saw each other as it was, at least if they had one class together, he would have had that to look forward to. With the rest of the day on his own, Thomas turned, wondering what he was going to do until Minho's or Newt's arrival later in the afternoon. Saturday practice tended to last longer than usual for Minho, so Thomas didn't expect to see the boy any time soon. As for Newt, he wasn't sure where the boy was or if he really wanted to know.

(Maybe they were together again and left Thomas to sleep in late just for a few hours of alone time. They had a lovely habit of doing that.)

He was halfway down the hall, scowling at the dark turn of his thoughts, when he rammed hard into another person. Books, papers, and pens dropped to the floor with a loud bang. Thomas was on his knees before the other person could get their bearings and gathered their scattered papers.

"I'm so sorry," He said, glancing upward. "I was—"

"Being a slinthead." It was Gally. He stood there, tall and proud, with his face screwed up in a disapproving frown. Thomas snapped his mouth shut, his mood souring further.

Gally crouched to grab his books.

"Thanks," He grunted, taking his notebook from Thomas. "How about you watch where you're going next time?"

"Yeah, yeah," Thomas muttered.

The taller boy narrowed his eyes. He snatched his pen away from Thomas, gave the boy a glare and was off without a word, shoulders tense. Thomas rubbed his temples in agitation. He could already feel the migraine coming.

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