The First Glader

13

She whispered, "Newt..."

He leaned gently against her shoulder—a small, comforting pressure. "You don't have to be scared of caring about people. Not anymore."

Ada closed her eyes.

"People leave, Newt," she whispered. "People die."

He was silent for a long time.

Then he spoke, voice barely audible. "I know."

Ada's breath stilled.

Newt's fingers curled around the edge of the blanket. "I don't remember much," he said. "But I remember... losing someone. I think. It feels like there was someone I was supposed to protect. And I couldn't."

Ada looked at him sharply.

Newt stared at the lake, eyes shadowed. "So I understand."

The vulnerability punched through Ada's defenses like a blade.

She placed a hand over his. Warm. Steady.

"You protected yourself," she said. "And that's more than most people can say."

He leaned subtly into her, grateful. "Thanks."

Ada squeezed his hand once.

And for a moment, the world quieted.

The moment shattered when George's voice burst through the trees.

"Ada?"

Ada stiffened.

Newt flinched, startled.

George jogged into view, breathless, curls damp from morning dew, shirt half-buttoned like he put it on while running.

"Ada," he said again, softer now, chest rising and falling with something more than exhaustion.

Newt immediately straightened, pulling away just enough to give them space but not enough to be dismissed.

Ada rose slowly.

George stopped a few paces away, unsure of himself for the first time in a long while. His usual brightness had dimmed, replaced by something raw and uneasy.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "You were gone when I woke up."

Ada swallowed. "I needed air."

"Oh." George nodded, jaw tightening. "Right. Yeah."

Newt watched the exchange, silent but attentive—like a protective shadow.

George's eyes flicked to him, then back to Ada. His voice dropped. "Can we talk?"

Ada hesitated—not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't know if she could handle what would happen if they did.

Newt stepped closer, just enough that his shoulder brushed hers—a quiet way of asking, Are you okay? Do you need me?

Ada steadied herself.

"It's alright," she whispered to Newt. "Go find Nick. I'll be okay."

Newt searched her face for confirmation.

She offered a tiny nod.

He squeezed her arm—a surprising gesture for him, tender and quick—before walking back toward the Glade.

George exhaled when Newt was gone. "I'm sorry if I—if last night—if I scared you."

Ada's heartbeat pounded in her ears.

"You didn't scare me," she said. "You just... surprised me."

George ran a hand through his curls, anxious. "I didn't mean to say it like that. It just—came out."