Count On Me ➵ Newt [1]

EIGHTEEN | into the maze

Even though we both had jobs to attend to, we strayed away from the other Gladers and headed towards the Deadends. We sat under the cooling shade of the forest, chatting with each other in low voices as the wind tossled our hairs around. I could tell Newt was trying to lift up my spirits, and I loved him for that, but everytime I found myself chatting or joking around, the image of Ben would pop up in my head and the smile would melt off my face. 

Newt must have noticed as he frowned at me mid-conversation.

"What?" I said.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked. "You haven't been the same since the girl arrived."

I picked at the dark, dry grass beneath me. I didn't know how to express my worries and fears to Newt - about how Thomas' and the new girl's arrival seemed important somehow, like it was the beginning of something unpleasant.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied. I stood up abruptly. "I'll go check up on Clint and Jeff. See ya later."

And I walked away, leaving him alone in the forest.

-

That evening, when the sky was beginning to darken and the first traces of dusk and night crept in, I found Newt sitting alone at a table in the kitchen, chewing not food but his fingernails. His eyes were tired and bloodshot and worry lines crossed his forehead, making him look older than he really was.

"Newt?" I said, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong?"

"They should be back by now," he whispered.

Oh.

I threw a glance at the Maze doors, where Alby and Minho had disappeared into earlier in the morning. Newt was right - they should've been back by now. What was taking them so long?

"I'm sure they're fine," I tried to reassure Newt, though worry still pricked at me. "Those two are tough. They'll make it."

Newt didn't say anything. He continued gnawing on his fingernails, eyes darting back and forth worriedly.

"What's wrong with him?" I heard Chuck whisper to Thomas a few tables away. "Looks like you did when you popped out of the Box."

"I don't know," Thomas replied. "Why don't you go ask him."

"I can hear every bloody word you guys are saying," Newt called in a loud voice. "No wonder people hate sleepin' next to you shanks."

"What is wrong with you?" Chuck asked. "No offense, but you look like klunk."

"Every lovin' thing in the universe," Newt replied, then fell silent as he stared off into space for a long moment. Thomas and Chuck glanced at me quizzically.

"Alby and Minho," I replied. "They should've come back hours ago."

Thomas and Chuck instinctively glanced over at the Maze doors, and they exchanged worried looks with each other, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"Maybe they're just exploring and having fun," Chuck said. 

Newt shot him a look so harsh I was afraid Chuck might spontaneously combust.

"Why can't we just search for them?" Thomas asked.

"Out there? In the Maze?" Newt said, staring at Thomas with a horrified look. "What're you crazy, ya buggin' shank?"

"Are you... scared of the maze?" Thomas said hesitantly.

"That's none of your bloody business," Newt said curtly, and quickly looked away.