The First Glader

13

"Give her time," Nick said.

"I gave her time!" George barked, then instantly winced at his own tone. "I mean—I am giving her time. But I don't understand what I did."

Nick tied the last knot and glanced over at him. "Maybe ask her."

George glared. "Yeah, that's the problem. She keeps running away."

Nick shook his head with a sigh. "George, Ada runs from feelings. Not people."

George scoffed. "Great. That makes me feel so much better."

Nick patted his shoulder. "Good luck."

Ada was helping Newt carry water buckets from the pond when George finally reached his limit.

Newt kept glancing at her like she was a lifeline. Ada didn't mind—it grounded her. But when she straightened after setting a bucket down, she saw George storming across the Glade with a determination that made her stomach drop.

"Ada!" he called.

She froze.

Newt pasted himself to her side instantly, sensing tension.

Ada whispered, "It's okay. Go with Nick."

Newt's eyes darted between her and George. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Newt hesitated—then slipped away, but not far. Close enough to intervene if needed.

George stopped a few feet in front of her—chest rising fast, curls wild, eyes burning.

"You're avoiding me," he said. Not accusing. Just... hurt.

Ada clenched her jaw. "George—now isn't—"

"Yes, it is." He stepped closer. "Just tell me why."

She turned away, pulse racing. "I'm busy."

"No," George snapped, louder than he intended. "You're scared."

Ada spun to face him. "I'm not scared."

"Then what is it?" he demanded. "You look at everyone else just fine. You talk to Nick. You sit with Newt. Hell, you even listen when Alby lectures. But I show up and suddenly you're allergic to the air."

Ada's throat tightened. "You're being dramatic."

"Because you're driving me insane!" George exploded.

Heads turned across the Glade.

Ada's eyes widened, cheeks flushing. "Keep your voice down."

"No," George said, stepping right into her space. "Not this time. You felt something. That night by the lake. You felt it. Don't lie to me."

Ada stepped backward—instinctively, defensively—only to hit the trunk of a tree.

George sucked in a breath, realizing he'd boxed her in. "I'm not trying to scare you," he said quickly, voice dropping. "I just... need to know. Did I imagine all of it?"

Ada's chest rose and fell too quickly. "George..."

"Did. I. Imagine it?" His voice cracked.

Ada shook her head, barely noticeable.

George froze. "Then why are you running from me?"

"Because I don't know what to do with it!" Ada finally burst out.

George's breath hitched.

Ada pressed her hands to her temples, overwhelmed. "This place—these people—keeping everyone alive—it's already too much. And when you look at me like that I— I can't think. I can't breathe."