The First Girl

---eight---

You wake up while the sky is dark.

Has it really been that long?

Out of the blue, you feel a hand squeeze yours. And it was who you'd hoped for, Minho.

"Hey," he says gently, looking into your eyes.

"How long was I out for?"

"Just a few hours," he replies, sitting up straighter in the chair that he had brought in.

"Is it bad?"

"Trust me when I say they've seen worse,"

Okay you had to smile at that.

"I'm glad you're okay,"

"To be honest, I'm more worried for Apollo. Newt's gonna kill him,"

Minho laughs at that remark.

"I'm sure Newt's already taken care of him,"

You imagine Newt going up to Apollo and giving him an hour-long lecture. For all you know it could totally could've happened.

"Should I tell him you're awake?" Minho asks, starting to get up from the chair.

"Sure," you say as you squeeze his hand before releasing it.
"Bring me some food too?"

"Dinner for two coming right up," he says as he slips out of the door.

With Minho gone, you get a chance to look at your cut. You carefully peel back the gauze to reaval a slit right above your knee about three inches long. It had been sewn shut with eight little stitches in a hard, black thread. You're glad that you were asleep when they were put in though. It looked as if it had been cleaned fairly well, so you let it be and wrap it back up.

Just in time too, because Newt came hobbling through the door.

"Oh my God you're awake," he exclaims as he comes in for a hug.

Minho pushes the door open with his foot and enters the room, holding two plates of ham and green beans. He approaches you and sets one of the plates on your lap.

"Thanks," you say with a small smile.

Before you could dig in, another boy enters the room. You expected Alby, or maybe Riley, but it was Apollo.

"Sorry about earlier," Apollo says as he scratches his neck.

"It's no big deal," you say, biting into a piece of ham.

"No big deal?!" Newt exclaims. "You could've died!"

"Stop exaggerating Newt," you say with a mouth half full of food.

"You could've," he says again as he crosses he arms.

"Geez! I said I'm sorry Newt! What else do I have to do?" Apollo exclaims.

You decide to believe that Newt had told him off earlier.

"It's okay Apollo. I'm not mad, it's just Newt. You can go,"

"Thanks (y/n)," he says, he pushing past Minho and out the door.

Newt was about to stop him, but you give him a deadly stare. He shuts his mouth and takes a seat in the chair next to your bed. Being replaced, Minho sits at the foot of your bed.

Then you all dig into our plates.

"Where am I working tomorrow?" you ask Newt to break the heavy silence.

"You're not,"

"I am too,"

"You do realize that if you don't let her, she'll get out and find something else to do," Minho says to Newt

You nod.

"Fine," complies Newt. "You can work in the kitchens,"

"When do I get to try being a runner?"

Minho almost chokes on his food.

"You don't," says Newt as he takes another bite of the limp vegetables.

"Then how do they get their jobs?"

"I choose you and the rest of the keepers vote," says Minho.

"Then I volunteer,"

"You can't just volunteers yourself as tribute," says Newt as he puts down his fork.

"I just did," you says setting my fork on your plate to mirror him.

"I won't let you," says Minho.

"Why?"

"It's not safe,"

"Oh, so it's safe for you, but not for me?"

"No, it's not safe for anyone,"

"Then why do you do it?"

"I want to get out,"

"Me too, so let me try it,

"No. I won't loose you too,"

He puts his stuff on the bed and grabbed your shoulder.

You shrug him off and press your pillow to your face. Maybe you can just stay like this until they leave.

You hear a chair move and the door open, but Minho's weight never shifts.

"Minho, go away," you say in a muffled voice from underneath the pillow.

"Okay, but Alby back tomorrow,"

Oh God he was cheesy. Thank goodness he couldn't see your little smile from underneath the pillow.

You feel his weight shift off of the bed away from you. He grabs his plate, leaving yours so you can finish your food, and leaves your room.

Eugh. You know you can't stay mad at him forever.

You dread putting on the act tomorrow.

He knew you wanted to go, but why wouldn't he let you? More importantly, who had he lost before?