A/N: If you could bet on Minho, Newt, and Jane like Chuck and the others did, what and who would you bet for?
For example: Chuck said that Minho would make the first move, but Jane would end up with Newt.
~
Minho and I ran into the maze and immediately my eyes widened. The tall walls shadowed over us, a small breeze blew in my face, and ivy climbed onto the walls. It was scary, but I also admired it and wondered how someone could possibly build it.
It was quiet, just me and Minho our footsteps and breaths were hearable. Minho ran in front of me, not talking, just showing the way. I just followed, gasping at the things around me.
We ran fast, adrenaline pumping through my body. I felt amazing, like running was made for me. Like I did it before the maze.
"Grab your knife and cut off some ivy." Minho suddenly ordered. "You gotta remember the way back, so that helps us. Like bread crumbs in those fairytales."
I ran over to a wall that had thick and long ivy on it. It was hard to cut the ivy while running, but I managed to do it, though it didn't look perfect.
Minho watched every step I made. "You still need to learn, but it's alright." He sighed. "Now grab a notebook, it's in your vest. You need to draw while running too, Shebean."
Again, I obeyed and started taking notes, basically drawing what the maze looked like and commenting stuff. Minho didn't say much while running, though I noticed him mumbling some stuff and fidgeting with his fingers like he was nervous. Strange. He normally didn't really seem like a nervous person.
Minho slowed his run down so we ran next to each other. My cheeks got red when I felt him stare at me. Then he mumbled something again, still not understandable.
"What did you say?" I carefully asked, keeping up my firm pace.
"Huh?" Minho snapped his head away from me. "I said, uh, you look shitty. That's what I said. You look shitty."
I sighed and kept running. It indeed did sound like Minho said you look shitty, I have to say.
"So did you ever see a Griever?" I wondered out loud.
"Nope. No one lived to tell about it, though I'm sure I would be able to do so." Minho was way too confident of himself again. "But we made Some notes on what they look like. Metal legs, green slime, spikes, and of course, the stinger."
"How do you know that?"
"You never stop asking questions, do you?" Minho grumbled. "The people who got stung managed to say some clear words about them. And we saw the slime on the ground."
Minho looked at a watch on his wrist. "Lunch time. Fry packed it in your backpack."
We stopped at a peaceful corner, but it was a dead end. Minho sat down normally, but I stopped. "Isn't it a little dumb to stop at a dead end? If a Griever comes here, you got no way out."
Minho stared at me for a few seconds, mouth slightly open.
Did I say something wrong? Is there something on my face?
I didn't get why I worried about it so much. It was just Minho. My enemy. Nothing else.
"I never thought about that, actually," Minho admitted. "Quite smart of you, Shebean." He mumbled.
My cheeks turned red. "Not that big of a deal. Just a random thought." I shrugged.
"I'm still gonna eat my lunch here, though." Minho started eating his sandwich. I sat down across from him, back leaning against a wall, and started eating too. We ate in silence, but the whole time we gave each other glances when the other wasn't looking. The tension was definitely there.
At some point, Minho finished his sandwich and crossed his arms. His biceps turned bigger, veins clearly visible, showing off his strength. I had to force myself not to look, but it didn't really help. My face turned redder than it already was, my mouth fell slightly open, and my eyes opened wider.
I really gotta stop doing this. He's just crossing his arms, Jane! Just stop looking.. but it looks so good.. I wonder how he got those. Does he train a lot? Maybe I should start doing that too. What! Why would I? It's not like I want to impress anyone like Minho or maybe even Newt. I don't need to impress them.
"Enjoying the view?" Minho grinned.
I shook out of my thoughts and cleared my throat lightly. "Uh, no. I- uhm.. I wasn't- I didn't." I stammered. Minho's grin only got bigger by the second. "Get that grin off your face, Mean Hoe!"
"Why do you keep calling me that, Shebean?" His grin slowly started to fade away. "Just say Minho instead of Mean Hoe, hair gel freak, dingleberry, deformed Griever? Just call me Blondie or something!"
I guessed he didn't mean to say the last sentence. "Blondie? You're not even blonde. I only call Newt that."
Minho got up from his seat. "Can we just go? I don't feel like spending a night in the maze with some disabled chicken like you, Shebean."
"I'll stop calling you Mean Hoe, if you stop calling me Shebean. I don't like it." I got up too.
Okay, that was a total lie. I liked the name Shebean. No one except for Minho called me that.
"Sad for you, Shebean. I ain't gonna stop calling you that." Minho started jogging again. "Though I might on one condition."
"Which is?" I questioned.
"If you stop calling me Mean Hoe, Newt Blondie.. and Newt will stop calling you love.. then I will stop," Minho assured.
I frowned deeply. "What kind of condition is that? They're just nicknames. And I'm not gonna convince Newt to stop calling me that." I argued.
"Do you like that nickname?" Minho blurted out.
"Shebean or love?" I asked.
To be honest, I loved them both equally, though love made me feel more fluttered, and Shebean made me feel special.
"Love," Minho said.
"That nickname is nice."
"Don't be thinking I'm gonna call you love," Minho said, almost seeming disgusted. "I'm not gonna say love and bloody all of the time."
My eyebrows furrowed even deeper. "I don't know why you would think that I would want you to call me love or say bloody."
Minho didn't reply and kept running.
"Gotta make pace before those Doors close."
~
A/N: Would you prefer longer chapters or just ones like these? (Longer chapters take longer for me to write and publish, though.)