CH. SEVEN
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Slightly nervous, Joan waits for someone, anyone, to walk out of the Gathering Hut and share what job she's getting. The Keepers have been discussing since dinner.
Camil better keeps his promise, so she can create helpful tools all day, and can be around anyone she wants as long as she does what she has to do.
If she ends up being a Builder, she might as well immediately slam a hammer against her own head because spending the rest of her time here with Gally sounds like hell. Bricknicks, too. Building and repairing seems kind of fun but the people... nope.
Med-Jacks seem fine. She spent about two hours with them after the Bricknicks. Clint and Jeff are nice. Yet she hates how hot it is the Med-Hut, how messy, and how many boys are being dramatic about little cuts.
And how they can't keep their eyes off her while she plucks a simple splinter out. Gosh. If it weren't for Jeff sending some away, she really would've punched them.
But perhaps she should stop punching people and contain her anger once it starts growing.
"Ben!" She yells at the boy. He's the only boy here she also has some kind of relationship with, who isn't a Keeper. Those boys have been in in the Gathering Hut for what feels like hours, so she's glad to meet a friend she can finally talk to.
He jogs over to her, his forehead shining from sweat. "Hey, Greenie. It's takin' 'em long again, isn't it?"
"I've been sitting here since dinner." She sighs.
"Damn, that's more than an hour." Ben turns around to slam on the Gathering Hut's door. "YOU SHANKS ALMOST DONE?!"
Embarrassed but somehow thankful, Joan manages a laugh. Then the door opens, to both their surprises, and Alby says, "Just come inside."
She doesn't hesitate to walk in there. It's a big, round hut. A pole in the middle holds the roof they made, and she can't deny this building looks good. She wouldn't have believed it's handmade in the way the boys here normally do it, at least.
Then Gally looks as if he's about to explode from anger, Clint looks excited, Newt's frowning, the Bricknick, Eric, seems bored, Zart and Winston keep sharing glares, Minho and Camil are beaming, and the keeper of the Baggers, some kind of guard, also looks bored.
Alby clears his throat, attracting everyone's attention to him. "Joan," he starts, looking at the girl. "We've been talking a lot about our options, and we've got a conclusion, except not everyone agrees."
She raises her eyebrows, nodding. Gives Gally a glare, then breaks eye contact because his gaze is so cold.
"Camil told us about your creativity, acknowledge of plants, and he showed us the hammer you made. It obviously needs some more work, but it can turn into a real masterpiece," Alby continues. "So we thought it would be nice for you to create even more. Anything you know you can create."
A satisfied feeling rises in her stomach. She nods, a smile forming on her lips, and then listens to his following words.
"We've had feedback from every Keeper. Got great compliments about the cooking and Eric mentioned you could use your skills to repair, too. Maybe even build. Meaning that besides creating things, you'd be free to sometimes help others out where you can. As long as you haven't got any other projects to work on."
It's getting better and better.
"So," Alby finishes. He looks around the room for a while. "By this, we'll create a new job. The Tool-Makers."
Of course it has to be a stupid name. Track-Hoes? Bricknicks? Tool-Makers for real sound exciting!
But alright, she's grateful.
"And you'll be the Keeper," he adds.
Oh. Damn.
She probably said those words out loud because Camil and Minho snort at the same time.
"But." There's more? "The hammer needs some work. We decided, well, Newt and I decided that someone needs to teach you how to carve properly, because this can be better. As the Keeper, you have to be good at the job yourself, which involves the ability to carve wood out."
She can smell it coming. Or perhaps Gally's anger decided to have a smell, too. His face says enough.
"Gally will train you with carving until you can do it."
Yup. There it is.
But alright. If working with Gally for a few weeks means getting crowned into the Keeper of a whole new job in the Glade, she'd do it.
Her smile turns into a grin. "That sounds awesome to me, Alby," she tells them.
"Great. Then I declare this Gathering to an end," he announces. "Everyone, have a good night. Don't cause any trouble."
Minho, still beaming, wheels Camil, who's also still beaming, toward Joan so fast that they both nearly fall on the ground from it. "Ha! First girl and immediately a Keeper!" Camil claps in his hands. "Congrats."
"Thank you, thank you." Laughing, Joan nods at the boys. "Also for getting me there."
"You're welcome." Minho puts his hands on his hips. "Honestly, you should make me a tool to run faster."
"Like that's possible."
He smirks. "If you ever manage to do it, I'll gladly test it."
Camil looks up at the two. "And what if it blows up?"
"My work won't blow up," she assures. "Ever."
❀
"What's that smell?"
"My work blew up."
Gally squints an eye at her. It's the next morning, her fifth day in the Glade, and he just finished building, so now has to spend the rest of the day teaching her how to carve. Before that, Joan tried to light herbs up so they would burn into a liquid, but that didn't really work.
He sighs. "This is exactly why I voted for you to be a cook. The soup was the least decent thing I've seen you make."
"Boy, you know how many things I'll have to light up in the kitchen?" Her eyebrows shoot up. "Exactly, I'll blow even more up. Besides, this is just a little experiment. Lemme finish it..."
He watches her put the uncut flowers and oil together in a mason jar, close it, and then turn to him.
"Alright, Captain Gally," she mimics. "Tell me how to carve wood properly."
He rolls his eyes. Without any words, he takes two knives, wood, and sits down next to her. Or well, with like four feet between them. "First, let's not interrupt me as I explain, alright, yapper?"
"I don't yap," she snaps. "You—"
"Good." He nods. Then he starts explaining how to carve. Take off small slices every time. Work on details with the point of the knife.
"Looks like shit, but the technique is fine," he says after a while. It's the best compliment he's given her... ever. Wow!
She wants to snap something back, then decides not to and just continues. Eventually, she takes her jacket off due the heat, and looks up Gally for a second—he averts his eyes—then finishes her figure.
Because of course he decided to start with the hardest things.
He inspects the thing, twisting it between his fingers and narrowing his eyes. "Nah. It's sloppy and uneven."
"Have you looked at your own work?" She spits out. "Also, how's my hut? It still looks like a broken down sauna."
"I'm working on it," he hisses. "Trynna make it stable for you, but we've got to wait until The Box delivers more nails and sandpaper, which you made us ran out of."
"At least it made me a Keeper." But her gaze softens a bit. At least he's trying to make something good out of her hut, and doesn't give her an unstable thing only because they dislike each other.
"You're lucky. No one turns into a Keeper that fast," he comments. "And I hate to admit it, but it's impressive."
"Thanks," she says awkwardly.
"I do still despise you."
"Well, I despise you, too."
"Good thing to agree on, then."
"Yes." She takes more wood and starts another figure, carefully sliding the knife over it.
They're silent for a few minutes. She's too busy cutting to really think about his presence, but it's still uncomfortable.
"So..." He breaks the silence with a cough. "Any opinions on the Glade?"
She hums. "Woah, he's asking something nicely."
"To satisfy Alby."
She hums again. "I think it's weird and it stinks, but after all, it's alright. Most boys are okay, some are weird."
"Like Doug?"
"Especially Doug. And Hank acts strange."
Gally makes a sound. It's some kind of chuckle mixed with a snort, and it makes her look up.
"What?"
"You're one dumb shank."
She scrunches her nose. "Why thank you, Gally."
"I mean, it's obvious Hank likes you."
Joan nearly drops her stuff. "What?"
Gally looks at her as if he just said the most casual thing in the world. "See? There's no need to be surprised. He blushes, gets shy..."
"I thought he was just shy and— ohh, that's why they said 'mission failed'." The realization makes her cheeks red for some reason. "Man, I don't want people hitting on me."
He holds up his hands. "Woman, I didn't expect someone to hit on you. Ever."
She kicks his leg. "That wasn't necessary at all, you fucking—"
"Stop the cursing. We have other words for that, remember? Minho first, now you."
"Let me tell you something, Gally."
He crosses his arms, waiting.
"Fuck off, you fucking piece of f—"
"Blah blah." He waves her off. "I don't care. Here, shuck off, you shucking piece of klunk."
"That's the most ridiculous thing ever. You sound like a three-year-old."
"You look like one."
"You—" she stops. It's happening again. The sun, shooting flares at the ground.
"What?"
"Nothing."
He follows her eyes. Is silent for a while.
Then the piece of anger that doesn't belong to her rises so fast that she's overwhelmed by it. Gally's look shoots daggers at her. "Don't tell me you can see that."
"You can see it?"
He tenses up. His jaw clenches, eyes get darker, and his breaths heave. "See? Now this is why I can't trust you." Gally gets up abruptly. It almost looks like he's freaking out. But then, he has vanished.
Joan is left confused, her mouth a little open. When she stares back at the sun, it's gone back to normal.
He can see it, too.
And he certainly doesn't like that she can.
Why not? Is the fact she sees it too that big of a problem? Just when they loosened up a little bit and accepted they didn't like each other... now it seems fully back to hate again.