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HE HADN'T MEANT TO CAUSE MASS HYSTERIA IN THE GLADE. Really, it hadn't been his fault at all. He'd explicitly explained to Leo that he couldn't tell anyone else about what he'd heard in the Gathering. Unfortunately for Samson, Leo didn't seem to care.
By dinnertime that evening, the entire Glade was buzzing with talk of an escape plan. Half of the Gladers seemed to be excited about a possible way out, while the other ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, panicking about the dangers of the Maze.
Nick and Alby sat in the Cookhouse both wearing the same irritated expressions. The two of them spoke to each other in low voices and scowled at any Glader who dared to walk by them. Samson kept his distance from them for the rest of the night, afraid that they'd sniff out his guilt if he even so much as looked at them.
As Samson tried to fall asleep that night, he tossed and turned thinking about the possibility of leaving the Maze. A part of him was so eager to leave and return to his old life, but no matter how hard he wracked his brain, Samson wasn't even sure what his old life had been. He remembered one of the Gladers telling him on his first night that he believed that they were all prisoners and that they were sent there as punishment. And as ridiculous as it sounded, Samson knew he couldn't rule it out. If it was true and he was a criminal, did he really want his memories back? Did he really want to remember the past?
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Samson was putting his socks on the next morning when the Box alarm went off, startling him. He'd accidentally overslept, which meant that he was already late to his first day in the Cookhouse. He hoped the interruption of the new Greenie would be a good enough excuse for Frypan.
He was the last one to the Box. Samson pushed through the crowd of boys in an attempt to get to the front. The Gladers grunted in response as he squeezed by them. He was curious to learn how it felt to be on the other side of the Box. As much as he felt bad for the new Greenie, Samson was glad it was over for him.
Nick and Alby opened the Box and in the corner, hiding behind all of the crates, was the Greenie. He was a small boy with a tawny complexion. Tears leaked out of his eyes and onto his red cheeks. Samson frowned down at him, taking a step forward so he stood in between Leo and Zart. Laughter erupted amongst the Gladers as they pointed down at the Greenie, just as they had done to Samson a month ago.
"Aw, don't cry little Greenie!"
"Ugly shank,"
"Not like you're much better looking, Eric."
"He's actually crying! Oh my god!"
Samson shook his head out of frustration. His blood boiled at the comments they made, his hands balling up into fists. Gally and Nick had told him many times that all of the Gladers had come up just as scared and confused as he had. He couldn't understand how they could make fun of the Greenie every month, especially when they knew what it was like to be one.
