𝗦𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗮𝘄 🆁🅴🅳 - ᴀ ᴍᴀᴢᴇ ʀᴜɴɴᴇʀ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄ

Chapter Four

Thea crossed her arms and stalked across the courtyard ignoring the glances cast in her direction by the curious Gladers. The only boys who paid her no attention were the ones outside the ring surrounding the Bonfire. A crowd of boys circled up off the main group and exploded in a particularly loud sect of whoops and hollers.

Pushing boys to the side to make room for her to see, Theas's eyes widened in a mix of surprise and satisfaction almost. Two boys stood at the center with their hands locked in position to guard their faces. Slowly, they circled each other while making a few jabs and punches. None of them landed.

"Oh, come on!" Thea booed. "Give us a show! Are you men or are you ballerinas?"

One of the boys turned toward her voice, confusion and anger seeping from his pores. The other boy took the opportunity and jabbed him right in the gut. A chorus of 'ooooh' ensued.

"That's more like it!" She yelled through the megaphone her cupped hands created. Without looking up, Thea nudged the boy beside her with her elbow and muttered, "Whatever happened to 'never hurt another Glader?'"

She felt the boy's eyes turn on her, but her own never strayed from the match in front of her. Minho raised his eyebrow in annoyance. "What, you got a death wish? Keep talking like that and you're gonna get yourself thrown in the ring!"

She grinned. "Good. Then I can show that shank up."

The boy, who'd been distracted by Thea's shouts, quickly lost the match. The audience erupted in cheers for the winner, someone even raised his fist in the air as though he were some sort of pro wrestler. Thea scoffed.

"You really do have a death wish, Gibson." Minho shook his head and stepped into the ring.

Thea gaped, finally turning to see who she'd been talking to. If not for her overpowering craving for respect, she might have blushed, but there was no way she was going to give him the satisfaction.

Minho cracked his neck, successfully hyping up the crowd.

"Yeah, Minho!" Someone cheered.

"Better luck next time, Tyson! This match is already won!" Shouted another.

Thea rolled her eyes. Minho may have some muscles bulging from his sleeves, but that perverted, self-righteous shank was definitely not 'all that and a bag of chips' like the other Gladers acted like he was. The rest of them were just mindless bandwagoners if they thought he was anything more than that. She was tempted to cheer for Tyson just to show the slintheads that they could have opinions, but she held back.

The match started. Tyson grinned as they slowly circled each other, still on a high from his last victory. Minho raised his eyebrows at the other boy as if asking whether he truly believed in himself. When it seemed as though Tyson's confidence hadn't waned, the black haired Glader rolled his eyes and hit him in the jaw with an uppercut.

A chorus of 'oof' rang out.

Tyson growled and faked towards his opponent's face while going for his gut. Minho dodged in the nick of time and swept his leg beneath Tyson's foot. He stumbled off balance and fell on his face.

"Get up! Don't let him take you out so easily!" Thea screamed.

Tyson heard her, or so it seemed, and to his feet. He propelled his head into Minho's gut on the way up. When the shock of having the wind knocked out of him receded, rage took over Minho's features.

The next blow was a jab to Tyson's side that left him stumbling away. Minho took the opportunity and braced his arms on Tyson's shoulders, shoving him towards the ground. Tyson fought back and tried his best to push the boy off of him, but Minho kept him moving down until they were on the ground, Tyson's cheek pressed against the ground.