Stan had been eerily attached to Hedy since the day she'd offered to spend time with him. Most newbies clung to Newt or Saph, or another Greenie who could commiserate with them. But he was always within ten feet of her, until one day, utterly sick of him, she slipped into the Map Room, where he knew he wasn't allowed.
Stan stopped a few feet from the door and watched Hedy and Newt enter. Firmly shutting the door behind him, Newt waited until they got into the center of the map room to say his piece. Nobody was there but Minho, just back from the Maze, bent over a map. Laverne had already gone, or wasn't there yet, probably flirting with Saph for a snack. Still, Hedy was able to breathe a little better just because he wasn't staring at her.
"I don't like the way he follows you around," Newt he said, setting his already square jaw in a particularly stubborn gesture, taking no time to say his piece. "It's a bit jacked, I'd say."
"He's a greenie." Hedy flipped through the map Minho had drawn earlier. "Give him another month to make friends. I'm the first person he ever spoke to, and he seems shy anyway. Let him hang around a little longer." Hedy studied it, comparing the dimensions to one she had drawn a few months ago. She didn't want to look at him. He'd be able to tell how hard it was for her to say that.
Minho looked up from his own map, setting it aside, his lips pursed with irritation. "Dude, not to sound like a stick-in-the-klunk, but it is kinda weird. Even I can see it. There's something off about that shuck. I don't trust him any farther than Saph could throw him."
Not looking up, she answered flatly: "Minho, you don't trust anyone, not even me, not even Newt." He did not argue, and Newt was not offended. "And Saph's stronger than she looks. Probably heavier too."
"I trust the lucky shanks who've earned it," he corrected. "You're one of them. Doesn't seem like greenbean out there's gonna manage that anytime soon."
"Stan is a boy," she said in frustration. "I'm the Leader of the Glade. He's scared and confused and has probably shit his pants more than once by now." They'd noticed her using the term Glade more and more frequently and easily. A reminder of Nick and his sterling qualities, just like Minho's swearing was a eulogy to Alice.
"He's a Slopper in the making." Minho spat the word derisively. "Got no talent. He's useless. Less useless than any newbie, than any Keeper, any Glader. He can barely focus when you're not there to babysit him."
"Minho…" she softened slightly at his put-out attitude, the way he held a pen so daintily and carefully even as he scowled. "He's a scared kid, doesn't know what the hell to do with himself. He reminds me of how we all used to be before we got our shit together. Including you."
"Please, remind me of all the times I freaking stalked you."
Newt had crossed his arms. "Gotta argue with that one," he said, shaking his head. "Even during those dark days, we stayed busy, we tried to get it together. Even li'l Alice."
"Don't even compare Alice to that slinthead," Minho snapped, and Hedy couldn't help but agree, perhaps even just for nostalgia's sake. The little girl had become a champion for all the Firsts, a sacred memory to hold against their hearts.
"I'm gonna stick around you, then." Newt announced to her. A threat.
Hedy's jaw dropped. "Don't you dare start playing body guard. I'm not a freaking kid, Newt."
"I care 'bout you, Hedy. Stannie over there hasn't won any trust yet, and he looks at you funny." Newt's mouth curled in distaste as he tried to describe the heebie-jeebies he got. "Like you're dinner and he's hungry."
She slammed her pencil down, huffing a sigh. "First off, that's gross. Second off, he's a little kid! He can't be older than fifteen, Newt, and he's the newest guy we've got here. Even Joan isn't as skittish as him. His first seconds of memory is literally a guy he's never met getting chopped in half. Let him be weird, for goodness's fucking sake! I would be weird."
"Hedy, you're the same buggin' age as him, like as not." Newt's words were purposefully cold. Hedy often forgot that just because she had longer memories than most didn't mean she had lived as long. The girl herself couldn't have been older than sixteen. They all felt much older. "There isn't much beauty in this world we live in, 'sides your bloody face. He's a moth batting at a lovin' flame, and if he keeps badgering, he's gonna alight." The ominousness of his words did not escape him, and the strong planes of his face were hard, transforming him into an old man. Rarely did Newt show this side of himself.
"He's jacked up. Newt's just trying to look out for you. I'm with him, dude." Minho was serious too, and she surrendered.
"Do whatever you think is best. You always do anyway," she mumbled the last part, and the tension seemed to seep out of the room at her acquiescence. "Anyway, Minho, do you notice the differences here? Do you think it's a changing dimension or just a different scale?"
"No, that's just Laverne being heavy handed. She'll need to watch her proportions. I always tell her, but she never listens. She's a shit artist. See, here, on this one it goes back to normal. She was rushing."
They continued on for a little longer, comparing maps, redrawing lines, Newt quietly going over his old papers and examining the newer ones, checking to see if anything had changed, peppering Minho with questions, wondering if he'd made it any farther through the maze. An hour passed, maybe, and when Minho's stomach growled, Newt chuckled. "That's better than any dinner bell." He put his own old drawings away, quietly. "Let's go."
Hedy was in a better mood than she'd been in weeks, but suddenly her heart sank back down a little when she saw Stan, sitting intently near the door, waiting for her. It didn't really help her case. The boys at her right both tensed, obviously irritated. At least, Newt was irritated. She could sense Minho's glee at being proved right. "Come on, Stan."
She heard Minho suck his teeth from behind her and she grit her own. The four of them sat and ate, silently, the cheery mood once again dissipated. Minho ate quickly, stood up and left, shooting a glare at the greenie.
"So, Stan, how's work going?" Newt tried. Hedy commended him for that, and shot him a silent thank-you.
"Okay, I guess," the boy said awkwardly, chewing slowly. She wanted to groan. This was painful. The darkness had set and the walls had closed a while ago. Despite herself, sometimes she did not even notice the noise anymore, though she was certain he did not have the same adaptation to the environment yet.
"What'd you do today?" It was difficult to force the words out cheerily. They sounded hollow, even to her own ears.
"Worked," he said finally, after finishing chewing his food thoroughly.
"Newt, will you give us a blink in private?"
Frowning, the taller boy stood. "I'll be by the gardens," he said it cautiously, but he obeyed her – not because she was the Leader, but because he had left her a warning. Boot the kid, or I will.
After he'd stepped away, Hedy stood, too, and looked down at Stan. "Hey," she tried to say it kindly, but she couldn't sum up the feeling at the moment. "Why don't you go try talking to some boys in your sleeping quarters? It's time you start making some friends here. Makes it easier to get through the days with some companionship."
He finished his own plate, and stood. He was tall, and thin, with dark hair that was cropped short. He was almost as tall as Newt, who was easily the biggest boy in the Glade. She herself wasn't small – Saph was the smallest person in the Glade, not even meeting five feet, and Hedy had more than half a foot on her, but Stan had a head on her. "Why can't you be my friend?"
"Stan," she said soothingly, in her calmest voice. "We are pals. But I'm also the Leader here, and I can't always look after you. You need other friends, friends that will be near you when I'm busy."
He blinked at that and stepped closer to her. She didn't step back – she was the Leader, and wouldn't let a greenie cow her just because he was bigger and still a little off from the Box. "Minho and Newt get to be around you."
"Well," she tried to explain diplomatically, seeing the rise of anger and confusion in his eyes. "I'm the Leader and Newt is my second-in-command, so we're together a lot. Remember what I was telling you the other week? We were both Runners, too, and Minho is the Keeper of the Runners. So we have a lot to do with one another. Once you've been here for a while, it'll make more sense." She did not wonder at what he meant – Minho spent most of his day in the Maze or with Saph, and she and Newt often split up to cover more chores in the Glade.
"That's not fair." He stepped forward again, and this time she stepped back uneasily. She did not like confrontation and she did not like violence. The aggression he displayed made her ready to use her authority. Truth be told, it pissed her off that he dared disrespect her this way. Not just as the Leader, but as a person, as a girl. Would he be behaving like this if Nick were Leader? Would he be doing this to Nick? Or was it her that he sought, and not the comfort of her leadership?
"Stan!" she said it sharply, feeling uncomfortable, using her most commanding voice. "Watch your distance."
He stepped forward again and grabbed her shoulder. "I want—"
"Get off her, you bloody slinthead!" Newt shouted, suddenly close. He yanked Hedy back, and despite the rough gesture and the feeling of Stan's nails digging into her shoulder as he tried to keep her in place, she felt nothing but relief. His touch turned her stomach despite herself. She immediately reprimanded herself sharply for those thoughts. He was lonely and a little jacked. Minho and Newt had just scared her a little with their strange talk.
"Dude, you don't do that klunk here." Minho shook his head and his eyes were sharp and angry.
Stan seemed angry now too. "We were talking."
His words sparked a real anger in her. "And the conversation is over, Stan," she cut in, stepping instinctively closer to Newt and Minho. They'd been right. He was off – still jacked up from the sudden transition, the memory loss. She didn't blame him, but for the first time in her memory, she felt suddenly vulnerable. It wasn't a nice feeling.
The greenie scowled at them before stepping away. The entire confrontation had been quiet. No others had noticed it, which was good. Hedy didn't want to prevent him from making friends, and insulting her was a sure way to alienate most of the Gladers. Even if she wasn't a bubbly, friendly figure, she was their Leader, and most of them respected her. Even Gally or Ben wouldn't take kindly to Stan's weirdness.
Still, she remained standing close to Newt for another minute. "Keep an eye on him." She looked up at him, leaning close and muttering quietly: "I don't want him messing with any of the other girls. If Saph, or Meg, or anyone says anything to you—"
"I'll do it. Don't trust that shank." Minho said, arms crossed, expression thoughtful and wary. "I told you, Hedy. Freakin' jacked. Slinthead."
"If his behavior continues, we might have to punish him." Newt said it seriously. Hedy closed her eyes at the thought of it. Futile punishment, followed by more extreme futile punishment, followed by either resentment or Banishment… The last thing she wanted to do was experience another Banishment. Of course, the good of the many was a priority over the good of the one, but the terror that had played on Gloria's face had been a prominent part of her nightmares, flashing right next to Alice's choked, diseased body, Newt's unsuccessful suicide attempt, and Nick's severed bones, with the groans of the Walls and whirs of Grievers playing simultaneously. Despite the idyllic rural atmosphere of their everyday lives, there was much to be afraid of. Too much.
"I hope not. You're right though," she shook her head and sighed, missing Alice as she said it. "He's a slinthead."
x
The next few days were uneventful, and she noticed Stan making more of an effort to befriend the other Sloppers, Rosie and Maya, and hang out in the gardens, where Joan had been placed permanently under Tim. Anyone who willingly did extra work was good in all of the Glader's books, so it became easier for him to talk to others, especially someone as unassuming as Tim.
She still went out once every few weeks with Minho, and while Laverne was training Winston, who looked like he'd quit at any moment, she took the excuse to adventure out twice in a single week, leaving Newt in charge. This week, he stopped just before they made it back to the Glade. He jogged ahead of her and stopped, halting her with his body. Crossing her arms and stopping, she scowled up at him. She hated how he did that – it was almost like what Stan did, using his bigger, more muscular body as a way to get her to do what he wanted.
"Has that piece of klunk been giving you trouble?" Minho's expression was hard and even, despite the exercise they'd just gotten. "I heard from Saph that some of the others are getting weird vibes from him too. More specifically, Laverne said he was staring at her while she was trying to sleep."
She winced. Considering himself the third person in Saph and Lavern's relationship, Minho would willingly and cheerfully murder anyone who tried to mess with his precious Runner, who was really his only Runner. Gally had tried out for a day, being pulled around the Glade to exercise and getting pulled in the West Door, to have a conversation about how harsh the conditions were out in the Maze, but on the day right before his first run, the incident with Gloria had happened. Gally now refused to enter the Maze. Ben seemed as though he were considering it, but not until Gally had more people to help him. Stan wasn't big enough to be of much help, too lanky. Perhaps the next Greenbean would be up to snuff, and Ben could try out, but it was likely as not that the next kid would be fourteen and runty.
"Honestly, I haven't seen him around much. I thought he was beginning to make friends," she lied, thinking guiltily of Kitchen gossip sessions in which most of the girls complained about his strangeness.
Minho scowled. "With other dudes. He's a freaking creep. Saph, who makes it clear that she likes shankettes, and one shankette in particular, said he bothers her while she's trying to cook, and even Zora can't bully him out of the Kitchen."
Hedy sighed, since she already knew about that. "Have any of the girls made actual complaints to Saph or Newt? We can't punish someone for being a weirdo. He does his work, he doesn't lay hands on anyone, and he doesn't leave the Glade. Having creepy vibes isn't his fault."
He reluctantly shook his head, but his expression remained mulish. The second Laverne had even peeped that she disliked him, Minho had transformed from edgy to battle-ready. "I don't want to wait for that to happen. You need to have a Gathering and let all the other Keepers know. Now."
Unable to turn down the request for a Gathering, she agreed, and the two made their way back. Minho went to draw up what they'd done for the day, and she immediately went to find Newt, who was in the Kitchen with Saph.
"Hey, Gorgeous. How was the jog?" Saph called out, as if Hedy had been on a walk after a large meal. Newt turned, still smiling from whatever Saph had said before she had come in, though his face darkened at her expression.
"Nothing new. Except we're having a Gathering. Newt, can you help me hunt down all the Keepers? Minho already knows."
He looked surprised, but nodded affirmatively. Saph eyed them, obviously eager to find out why they needed a Gathering. "Hurry it up. I wanna know what's going on," she ordered, finishing the last of the sausages. "All of them are eating except for Clint. I dunno where he went. He might be a little harder to find."
Saph's words were punctuated by the closing of the Walls. Hedy nodded at Newt. "You find the Keepers and I'll find Clint. I wanna get this over with – I'm beat."
Departing, she looked at Laverne, who was jogging past, still breathing heavily. "Is Clint over there?" she asked, handing the girl her water bottle.
Laverne wiped her brow and swigged gratefully from the bottle before handing it back. "Nah, didn't see him. Sorry. Ben's in the woods, though, Clint might be there with him."
"Thanks."
The other girl left and Hedy went in the opposite direction, towards the DeadHeads. She knew that he sat at Nick's grave sometimes. They'd become decent friends, just before Nick had gotten his freaking body severed in half. It was a quiet place to rest, too, and they all needed peace and quiet sometimes too. Especially Clint, who was stuck bandaging up burns and removing splinters for the most part. A pang of sadness went through her as she realized she hadn't even asked Tim or Clint how they were doing in the past few weeks. She'd just assumed they were okay.
"Clint?" she called out tentatively, stepping into the forest. She went to Nick's grave, and saw not Clint, but Stan. Wincing as he turned to face her, she waved. "Hey, Stan. Did you get dinner yet?"
"No," he said swiftly. Weirdly quick, as if he'd been waiting to exclaim the answer regardless of what she actually asked. "Did you want to eat together?"
"Sorry, I was looking for Clint. I need all my Keepers."
"Are you having a Gathering?" he asked, eyes focused on her steadily. Although she hadn't noticed it until Minho and Newt had so insistently pointed out, she realized he was a bit jacked. His eyes didn't really blink as often as she thought they should, and were always slightly glazed. Like it was all too much to take in. While she agreed with that, it still weirded her out.
"That's right." She said cautiously. "Now, I'd better go find him. They can't have a Gathering without the Leader-"
"Stay?" he phrased it as a question, but a sinking feeling in her stomach made her think that he was not actually making a request.
"Sorry, Stan, another time-"
"You should stay," he said it emphatically this time, and Hedy lost all sense of diplomacy and turned around, walking out of the woods. Before she could get far, though, she felt a grip on her shoulder, nails digging into skin. "Or I should come." His tone was serious, as if he somehow thought she wanted his company. Was he really that jacked? Or was she so cold normally that he couldn't read her? It would be downright awkward to simply reject him. Bad for morale. His hand on her shoulder made her feel extremely uncomfortable, like a cat on edge.
"Maybe you should come." Hedy thought quickly. This was obviously escalating, and she felt uncomfortable being next to him alone. She began walking, and his claw-like grip on her did not stop. Leading him, she felt her face contort into an expression she couldn't fight, of extreme distaste.
They entered the building, and Minho looked up from Saph's animated face, laughter frozen on his face when he saw Hedy's expression. "Hands off, Greenie," Minho said.
"That there is private property, I'm gonna need to escort you off." Sensing the situation immediately, Saph joined in. "You're still a bean if you don't know about me and Minnie."
Minho groaned dramatically at the name, but Stan only regarded her with fascination.
"Me and Minho haven't decided who gets Hedy to marry 'em. It's an ongoing challenge, but I think I'm winning. I'm funnier than him, after all. And I can cook. I'm basic'ly the whole package, yanno?"
"But I'm a sight better looking than this shankette over here, and she has a girlfriend already." Minho countered, exaggerating his wink at Hedy, who could feel her face freezing as Stan slowly moved closer to her, as if marking his territory like an angry dog. She tried to step away, but his fingers in her skin made her wince. "Hey, I know that look wasn't at my charm."
"It was at your shuck-ugly face." Saph cackled. "C'mon, let's get this show on the road, we got buz'ness to attend to."
At that moment, Newt entered, almost bumping into them, since they hadn't moved from the doorway. "Ah, you're here, Stan. Good that. Everyone here?"
Counting heads, Hedy made sure to double check. Herself, Stan, Newt, Minho, Saph, Meg, Tim, Gally, Clint, and Rosie: the Leader, the Greenbean, the Second-in-Command, the Keeper of the Runners, the Keeper of the Kitchen, the Animals, the Garden, the Builders, the Med-Jacks, and the Groundskeeper. "Alright. Take your seats everyone. Stan, would you mind letting go of me? You can sit over there." With others around, she felt more confident, a sense of control that she lacked when it was just the two of them alone.
Blessedly, he obeyed, taking it as an invitation, not realizing that Meg and Rosie were staring at him oddly, confused by Hedy's request. It was a well-known characteristic of Hedy's that she disliked excessive touching, same as Zora's grumpiness and Minho's need to have the last word in any argument. Little did they know, he was the guest of honor. Newt and Hedy moved to their places in front of the semi-circle. Hedy began: "Minho, Newt, and I have called this meeting for a recent issue that has come to our attention."
The room's lighting was dim and it was quiet outside, interrupted only by occasional laughter or shouts. Rosie's eyes slid to Stan, who watched the proceeds – and Hedy - with quiet interest.
"Greenbean Stan, it has come to my attention that your behavior toward some of the female Gladers has been less than appropriate. I agree. I would like each Keeper to share their opinions on the matter."
"Wait! You can't—" Stan's face was outraged and he opened his mouth to protest, but Newt shot up in outrage at the interruption.
"At a Gathering, it is not for you to speak until the Leader asks you too." Newt's face was harsh and angry, fierce enough to silence the kid, who was suddenly cowed. Hedy felt guilty. He apparently hadn't seen this coming at all. Newt, normally calm and jovial, had a fearsome side when crossed, and the one thing he valued the most was order and ceremony. Things had a pattern for a reason.
Minho spoke first, his arms crossed, showing how defined they were in front of Stan. A warning. "My opinion is that this shank is a creep. One of my Runners complained she felt uncomfortable, and that's good enough for me."
"Thank you, Minho. Duly noted." Hedy said, and Newt scribbled that down, back ramrod straight despite the fact that the chair was hardly large enough to hold him. "Saph?"
"As a general rule, I try to be as welcomin' to the Greenbeans as possible." Saph's face was solemn in the dim light, her speech neat and controlled. "However, not only have I noticed Stan's gen'ral diffidence to all of the Gladers, he has a marked difficulty communicating with the women here and it's difficult to be around him. I don't have any official complaints, but Kitchen gossip is brutal, and I hear quite a bit of unofficial complainin'."
Newt wrote that down, too. Hedy said: "Meg?"
Meg bit her lip. "I'm sorry, but you're hard to talk to," she said to Stan, who was fuming silently, looking as if he wanted to scream. "I know you're trying to be helpful, but not only do you freak out the animals, you kind of freak me out. I don't have any girls under me, but you give me the twitches. I always wonder what move you're gonna make."
Minho's face flashed in victorious amusement, and Hedy's eyes told him silently that he would get his dues if he laughed right now. "All right." Hedy said, after Newt had finished writing. "What do you think, Tim?"
"He's a good worker." Tim said simply. "He does his work, and then comes and helps at the Garden. He's quiet, too. I don't have anything to say. I withhold an opinion, I guess."
Newt frowned and wrote that down. "Thank you, Tim. Gally?"
The expression on Gally's face showed just how tired of the topic he was. "I think this conversation is klunk. Let the greenie catch a break."
"Clint?"
Clint had nobody under him but Jeff, and Clint was 'Keeper' in nothing but name, because Jeff hated talking in Gatherings, and technically had seniority. "Dunno, really. But I will say this." Clint screwed up his mouth as he looked at Stan, then back at Hedy, stubbornly. "I see the way he is around you, Leader, and I don't like it."
"Rosie?"
Looking thoughtful, the muscular girl sighed. "He's under me. He does his work, he's a quiet greenie, and he doesn't complain. You're a good slopper, kid, but the way you talk to girls borders on creepy. I dunno if you even know what you're doing, but I don't like it. It's not fair to equate awkwardness with harassment… but you get to a point where it's too excessive."
"All right. Newt?"
Usually so level and calm, Newt only said, darkly: "He's an accident waiting to happen."
Stan stood up. "You can't just talk about me like I'm not here!"
Ignoring him studiedly, Hedy answered Newt: "This meeting was originally called in order to discuss our options about what we should do. However, on my way here, I came across Stan, who wanted me to remain in private with me, or join me. I felt uncomfortable remaining with him alone, since I have often made it clear that despite my desire to see him succeed here, I am busy and cannot devote much time to individual Gladers except for actual issues. In those cases, I call a Gathering. Newt, what's the tally?"
"Minho, Saph, Meg, Clint, and Rosie against Tim and Gally."
"I'm interested in the 'unofficial' complaints that Minho and Saph have mentioned." Hedy looked at them.
Minho bit his lip. He only had one Runner, besides her, and she didn't count, not really being a Runner. All of them, except Stan, knew he must be referring to Laverne. "Basically he creeped her out and groped her."
"I don't want the basics. Give me specifics."
His jaw set angrily, he looked at her clearly and said: "While they were alone, he invaded her personal shucking space and grabbed her. I intervened. She did not make an official complaint, except to tell me about how she felt jacked after."
Saph broke in: "Me and my girls agree with Clint. The way he looks at you is downright creepy."
"If we're done speaking about this snarkily, I'd like to conduct this meeting appropriately." Hedy's tone was icy. "No more bullshit in my Gathering. A kid with a crush is different from molestation."
"This slinthead is harassing the shuck out of you!" Minho burst out, pointing an accusing finger at him. "He creeps out all the girls here."
"Slim it!" Newt barked at their friend.
Hedy sucked in a breath. "Minho, while I appreciate your gesture, I think all that is required here is a reiteration of our rules." She turned to Stan. "While interacting with other Gladers, please keep these in mind. Do not harm another Glader. That means no fighting, no harassment, no malicious bodily contact of any kind. Disobey that and you will be Banished. Do your part. You already have this down, as evidenced by Tim and Rosie." Holding up a finger as he tried to speak, she shot him a stern look. "Third, do not ever enter the Maze. Those are our three rules, and the only rules that risk Banishment. All other perceived offenses require time in the Slammer after being evaluated in a Gathering. Do you understand?"
"Yeah." Stan grunted, his face furious and ready to explode.
"Then this Gathering is adjourned. I apologize for wasting your time."
They all stood to leave, with Stan bolting, but Hedy's voice was sharp when she called for Minho to stay.
"You leave too, Newt," she looked up at him, her face murderous. "This wasn't your idea."
He shot a look at the belligerent Minho before he left, rubbing his neck sheepishly. Nothing had been accomplished.
Waiting another moment, until she was sure all of the others were gone, she stepped up to him angrily, hissing: "What the hell? Are you jacked? You just made me look like a huge asshole in front of all of my Keepers. Why? Why do all that? Seriously!"
Minho looked down at her, scowling. "Dude, that shank is totally a loose screw. He's gonna fall out, and you're gonna be the one who is stuck in the klunk, dealing with the cleanup, the same way you always do, like a freaking slopper."
Breathing in deeply, she rubbed her face. "Minho, while I do appreciate your concern, I will deal with that if it happens. We can't do preventative behavior here – that's a total self-fulfilling prophecy."
"I'm worried about you, shuckhead." He looked at her suddenly, and her stomach dropped. It wasn't the words – he'd said the same ones before. It was the look in his eyes, the sudden concern and irritation and caring. Showing he cared wasn't easy for Minho. He'd rather crack a joke or punch a shoulder. But Hedy's sense of humor was decidedly flat and she didn't like to watch people fighting, even in jest. So he didn't know how to share with her how he felt. They'd been together for so long. It was a year now. Three kids dead. And how much longer would they be there? He fought every day to find a way out, selflessly throwing himself into potential danger, searching for a way out. Not her. She was selfish. The only reason she ever ran was because she needed to escape the Glade, her responsibilities, to stretch her claustrophobic legs and breathe real air.
They were the Firsts, had built this entire place from scratch. A whole new society. She was one of his best friends, and sometimes she wondered if there wasn't a certain seriousness in his games with Saph. But she always brushed those thoughts aside. She'd made it clear to her Gladers that she didn't care what they did on their own time, but the second any relationships interfered with work, the repercussions would be severe.
"Min," she began, but he tugged at the neck of her shirt. "What the hell are you doing? You're gonna stretch it."
The crescent marks of Stan's fingernails had yet to fade from above her collarbone, and he shook his head. "See what I mean? Psycho. And I know you're trying to keep the peace, but he can't be allowed to act the way he is around you."
"He's just a Greenie, Min." She tried to plead, to get him to see. "Can you imagine how he feels? Yeah, sure, we were klunking our pants back then, but remember? Alice was so scared that we weren't even scared, since she had it covered for all of us. Nick was always so level headed. We were new, we were clueless, we screwed up, but we all had each other. Always on the same page. The newbies after us? They just came. They didn't have any idea of what was happening, and here was a whole group of people who were acting like this was the most normal shuck life in the world."
His expression softened a little at what she was saying, but he was resolute. "You're tellin' me to walk a mile in his freaking shoes, but you're a Runner too. You know we have to wear ones that fit. And his don't fit right."
"The second he tries something, we can throw him in the Slammer, but let him adjust. He's more scared than any other newbie I've seen. Including Alice," she added wryly, a bittersweet smile etched across her face.
"If he even touches you again, I'm gonna throw him in the Slammer myself." Minho was serious. "I know Newt and Saph are on the same page as me, too. Even Clint saw it, and Meg and Rosie will stay on your side no matter what."
"I wouldn't be much of a leader if I couldn't handle one poor kid," she smiled then, quirking the left side of her mouth, the expression ghosting across her eyes, transforming her cheekbones into round figs, lighting up the entirety of her face into a rare vision. "Let's go see what we can get out of Saph. I'm as hungry as a Griever. If Grievers get hungry."
"Not funny." Minho groused, but he perked up. "Hope they made grilled cheese. I'm gonna eat twenty."
"You'd explode," she rolled her eyes. "Look at those abs. Could you really fit all those in there? Not a very big space for twenty grilled cheese sandwiches."
"It's as noble as pastime as Running," he said it solemnly as they left. "I'll try my hardest, put my all into it, same as Running."
As they exited, she was going to answer – but her response was utterly forgotten, cut off by a bony fist flying into her ear, knocking her staggering into Minho, shoulder hitting the same abs she'd just teased him about. She felt warmth trickle down her neck. "Holy shit," she groaned, the words coming as a reflex, more automatically than even the insidious Glader slang that she hated using. She would've fallen over if Minho hadn't grabbed her, steadying her, his own reflexes still confused.
"Bitch!" Stan's voice felt muffled in her ringing ear. "What gives you the right to embarrass me—" His tirade was cut off when Minho let go of her and grabbed him, knocking him into the sturdy door frame. Hedy did not watch the rest of the altercation, her head throbbing.
"You piece of shucking klunk." Minho swore at him, his voice low and furious. "You freaking psycho. You don't just get thrown in the Slammer for that shit, you get Banished. Didn't you just hear that reminder? You've had all the chances in the world to prove you're not seriously whacked, dude, and you failed every single time!"
The yelling had caught the attention of a number of the Gladers, and Jeff appeared, Clint on his heels. Newt came running over as rapidly as his limp would allow, watching as Jeff gingerly turned Hedy's head away, checking for the source of blood. "What's this?" He demanded, watching Clint and Minho wrestle with Stan, the boy screaming, red faced, about how they'd all been against him from the beginning.
"This is the second fucking Greenie to try and knock my lights out." Hedy said bitterly, leaning against the wall, wincing at Jeff's not-so-tender ministrations . "And Minho's pretty face is still intact. Some shanks have all the luck."
x
Minho came back early the next day. It would soon be time for the Banishment. He and Clint had forced Stan into the Slammer last night, where the boy by turn screamed and sobbed and moaned. He sat with her at Alice's grave.
"I'm not gonna say I'm sorry." His tone was stubborn. He was looking for an argument. He wanted to distract her, and she couldn't say she didn't appreciate it. But her heart wasn't in it. An argument wasn't what she was looking for.
She sighed. "I hate these. We're giving that boy a death sentence. He's a baby. He's not even a month old. We're twelve times as old as he is."
"Don't think of it like that. Think about what a slinthead he is. Think about how he harassed you and followed you around and freakin' hit you. Not only did he hit a Glader, he hit a girl, and that girl was you, his Leader, the person who busts ass to make sure a world exists for him to function in." Minho seemed angry just thinking about it. "Psycho."
"I'm not sure he understood the implications of his actions, Minho. Do you remember how he freaked out when he came in the Box? He's scared and jacked and humiliated, and in part because you called a meeting."
Minho remembered it vividly. She'd gone in, like usual, and he'd been so wild and terrified, clinging to her in a way that had Newt and Nick exchanging glances. The boy had literally klunked his pants. After that, he'd been quiet and moody, moreso than other newbies. Watching Nick die… it must've messed him up. But Minho couldn't excuse the way he'd acted around Hedy. He'd do anything to protect her, and Newt and Tim were on his side. Despite everything else, all of their history, he knew that Stan was targeting Hedy because she was a pretty girl. It was strange, thinking of her like that. While it was a running joke that Hedy was the most beautiful girl in the Glade, he never really absorbed the thought anymore, except in rare instances. When she had smiled yesterday, it had reminded him that beneath the frowns and furrowed brows and berating that Hedy was exactly what Saph called her; gorgeous. It was easy to forget, to get used to her beauty, seeing her as a friend, as a leader, as the person who was always cleaning up messes and taking care of others, despite her utter lack of maternal ability.
After Nick died, she'd taken over completely. Not much was ever expected for the first few days. Hedy was actually stricter with them than Nick had been. She and Newt agreed that routine was a despair killer. Minho felt the same way. When your body was busy, your mind didn't have time to complain. Nick had always let them have a few days, with a guide, but Hedy was adamant that greenies get immediately to work, no sulking allowed. Perhaps it would have been better if Stan had time to process what had happened, time to be withdrawn and ponderous. But it was too late to wonder, now.
She was a good Leader. She was always steady, always fair. Maybe too fair, but the Gladers liked her better for it. She'd been pushed to action last night, by him and then by Stan.
"I just wonder, if he'd had more time…"
"You can't blame yourself for his jacked, psycho shucking slinthead attitude. It's one thing to be a clingy pansy. It's another thing to follow you around and touch you. We made the rules clear from the beginning, and you reminded him. Then he smacked you for it." Minho had seen red. It was all he could do to keep from throwing a punch of his own. But Hedy would've disapproved. She was even more against violence than Nick had been.
"You're a good friend, ya shank," she told him. "I'd be dead a thousand times over without you."
"Only maybe a couple hundred," he said, looking contemplative. She raised her eyebrows at him. "C'mon, though, we gotta go get ready. Gates are gonna close soon."
He stood and offered her a hand. Looking at it for a moment, she took it. "You need to cut your fingernails."
"You can give me a manicure later," he said, but didn't let go of her hand. She didn't let go either, though, and her stomach twisted as she stared at their cupped hands. "How's your ear?"
"He split the skin, and it's a little bruised, but nothing major. Just shook the hell outta me."
"Nothing like the shiner that shank Gally gave you." At the memory, they both shook their heads.
"Slim it," she groaned. "The most embarrassing moment of your life is when a fourteen year old smacks the hell out of you. Feel lucky you'll never have that experience."
"I do," he smirked, and looked up at the sky, releasing her hand. Her fingers felt cold. "Let's go."
x
It was a gruesome affair. Each Keeper, plus Newt and Hedy, stood at the gates. Minho and Clint brought him from the jail, face twisted with fury and terror and confusion. The rest of the Gladers were quiet. This was a solemn affair.
"Stan of the Sloppers." Her voice was grave and quiet. Even now, she did not speak loudly. It was as though she did not want her voice to echo through the walls of the Maze, to be the last voice he heard. Too much would weigh on her to acknowledge that. "Today you are being Banished to the Maze for the willful denial of our number one rule. You purposefully physically attacked another member of the Glade."
Even as his begging started and grew louder, she did not raise her voice. Still though, the authority within it meant that those listening hung on her every word. Not everyone had been through a Banishment, and they were fascinated and a little afraid.
Newt threw a Runner's bag into the Maze: food, water, a weapon and spare shirt. Then the Keepers moved with the walls, closing in on Stan, whose weeping grew shriller and more hysterical as he was forced to move in the wall.
"You can't do this!" Stan cried, refusing to move. Still, they pushed. He met Hedy's hard, dark eyes with his own lighter ones. "You can't just do this! You said it! I'm new!"
The doors were feet from closing, then inches. Stan stood his ground, as if they'd free him at the last moment, as if it were a game, and not an utterly serious matter of life or death, of peace and order vs chaos and disorder. He did not understand the rules of their tiny society, but he understood the implication of the closing walls, and he knew about the Grievers. He knew what could happen.
Stan did not die with the echoes of a vicious Griever in the distance. Greenie Stan of the Sloppers made the biggest mess they had ever seen, crushed to death between the great walls, one arm hanging out still, palm up, a gesture that, in death, belied his short, angry life.
x
The Sloppers cleaned up the mess of their own. Hedy went into the Homestead and she cried, quietly. Surprisingly, it was not Newt who found her, but Saph.
"Figured ya'd be here."
She sniffed, wiping away her tears. "I needed a minute. It's not good to cry in front of them."
"You're human too, Gorgeous. We all know it." Saph said it kindly, but it just made her feel worse.
"It sets a bad precedent, though," she shrugged. Looking down at her, she said, softly. "You know… He made me feel vulnerable. Minho was right. But Banishing him… killing him… it feels wrong."
Hedy was not one for too much contact. She wasn't a hugger. She was a hand shaker at best. For her, affection was nice, but felt… out of place, here. It wasn't that she disliked it, but she never knew how to instigate it, or if the other party was comfortable, or if it was too long or too short. The entire process was downright stressful. Usually, she avoided it completely. The only people she'd touched, in her short memory, had been the other Firsts, Gally, who'd punched her, and Stan, who'd punched her.
She wasn't sure how it started, really. When she touched Saph, it was always the smaller girl who began it, always knowing how and when. The girl was touchy-feely, cuddly, softhearted. Her hands were warm and comforting, and despite herself, despite being much larger than the other girl, Hedy cuddled into her as if she were her mother, instigating the touch herself. It went without saying that Newt was her best friend in the entire world. Or in the entire Maze and Glade, which was the same thing. Minho and Saph had been inseparable since the early days, but she'd only recently come to appreciate just how much Saph valued her, and thus, how much she relied on the other girl.
"I feel like this whole situation is my fault." Hedy muffled her words in Saph's shirt, grateful for the covering. She smelled like baking and sweat and garlic, which was a better combination than she thought it'd be.
"He hit ya. That's inexcusable. He knew the rules, and he broke them. And hitting Gorgeous is even more unacceptable, 'specially 'cause that pretty face is under protection," her small palm traced a soothing circle in her back, and Hedy's arms were wound tight around Saph's waist.
"Yeah... I just…"
Her voice was gentle. "Anything ya need to tell me, Gorgeous, I'm already here, and I ain't goin' nowhere anytime soon."
She was silent.
"It ain't just a one-time offer, neither. Anytime you need to get somethin' off your chest, I'm your man." Saph grinned loopily, her cheeks moving against the top of Hedy's head in a telltale gesture.
Squeezing her even more tightly, trying to channel out the physically painful mortification she felt, she whispered: "At first, I let him… because that's how Minho is."
"Do you feel vulnerable when Minnie grabs ya or stands near ya?"
She could feel her face heating, and shook her head. "I trust him."
Saph was grinning knowingly. "Then it ain't the same at all, Gorgeous. Stan touched you without your permission, more'n once, made ya feel not so comfy, even when ya reminded him of the rules. He got what was coming to him."
The words were unusually bloodthirsty, sounding more like something Minho would say than anything Saph would say. "Brutal."
"You ain't just the Leader, Gorgeous. You're our best friend."
Suddenly, she didn't feel quite as terrible anymore.