CH. ELEVEN
┗━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━┛
The next morning, she wakes up with quite a bit of a headache, but 'losing' her clothes at the lake had felt worse, so she'll live.
After a whole night of thinking about the things Gally said, she honestly only got angrier. "That was about time," she snaps when he announces her hut is finished. "Why did it take a whole fucking month?"
"Well, maybe because it's not just creating the walls, but also a bed, desk, making sure it's waterproof, and having to wait for the Box to deliver supplies," he snaps back.
It's not like she's not grateful for his, or any Builder's, work, it's just the anger at him. That hard to explain a promise she made?
"And I've got you a shuck lock," he adds stubbornly, pressing the key in her hands. "Have fun with it."
She stares at him for a while. Tries to read his expression. It's emotionless as always. Maybe his jaw is a bit clenched from anger and his eyes also wear anger, but somehow she can see he hopes she approves. A month's not nothing after all, yeah.
"Thank you," Joan eventually says, no matter how much she hates doing it. "I'll go check it out."
"You do that," he murmurs, then vanishes to, she guesses, yell at the Builders.
Joan unlocks the door of the hut. She's very grateful for that lock, too.
The hut is built from branches, so many that it's barely see-through. These branches form four walls, that are attached by nails and pieces of wood. There's two handles beside the door to put torches in, which is nice for when it's dark.
Joan walks inside. It's about eight by nine feet, the furniture brown because it's all made from wood, and the smell is like... clean clothes. A nice new feeling, but also that disappointment it doesn't smell like 'home' yet.
There's a desk on her right, a small closet on her left, and a bed in the other right corner. It's not bigger than Newt's bed, except he had white sheets and she has pink ones.
Ahw. He got her pink sheets? That's honestly very kind.
Then a note catches her eye. Fast, she picks it up.
No, you did this yourself when you put your shucking red shirt in the white laundry. I don't do pink.
Oh, well.
She shrugs, happy with the result of her own mistakes, then turns to the desk. There's an empty notebook in one of the drawers and she can see someone placed a few of her made serums on top of the desk, along with a few supplies to make more things.
Alright, it's awesome. She would bury herself in here the whole day if she has a bad one. That says enough.
Just gotta ask for some posters or any decoration to hang on her wall, candles, more pillows, and maybe lights? Oh! She can ask for a camera and hang pictures on her wall!
Too much fantasy?
Excited, she runs to place her stuff that's currently in Newt's hut, to her hut. With all her clothes in her hands, she runs across the Glade.
From all huts, Newt's is the first in line and hers is the last, so it takes some exercise.
The next hour, she spends sorting her clothes into her closet, dreaming about decorations, and testing her bed out. The mattress almost seems softer than the one Newt has, but she might get a bit delusional at this point. She's just very happy.
And then there's a cough, followed by a knock on her door? "Eh, Joan?"
Here we go. She sighs. "Yes, Gally?"
"You dropped... something on your ridiculous run from Newt's to here."
"What did I drop?" If she hadn't locked the door, he could just come in and lie down what she dropped, but that's not the situation. She was just lying so comfortably!
"Would you just open the door?" He urges. "It's awful standing here with this thing in my hand, on full sight. You're an idiot for dropping it."
"You didn't have to pick it up," she says, having a suspicion on what she dropped. And it makes her grin. She can't even be embarrassed for herself.
"Well." He clears his throat again. "I'm awful, but there's others who are more awful and might do weird things with this."
"What's 'this'?" She wonders innocently. The smile on her face grows. "I'm not sure if it'll be worth it to open the door."
"Joan, come on," he says through his teeth. "Open up. I already hate this, and you, so please don't do this to me."
"I don't know what I dropped," she adds. "Is it important?"
"I don't know! It's not mine! You shucking decide if it's important, I just want you to open the damn door before I break my own work down."
She gasps. "You don't even know the name of it? Oh, Gally. You innocent little—"
"Shuck. Off," he hisses. "I'll give it to Minho then. I'm sure he'll want a crowd, watching him make fun of this."
"No!"
"Then open the door."
The girl finally gives up and opens the door, revealing Gally with a face as red as the bra in his hands. Well, fingers. He's basically holding the thing up with one finger, staring at it as if it's a fetus.
"I'm not sure if that's mine," she teases.
He pulls a face. Attempts to give it to her, but she doesn't take it. "How could it not be?"
"You tell me."
Gally turns his head. Swallows. "You're the only one with... with... you know."
"Not sure if I know."
"Just take it!" He groans in frustration. "You know what? I'm never gonna help you again. Never gonna pick your clothes up again!"
"It might be Brandon's." She hums, leaning against the door. "I mean, he's got more than me."
Is it normal to not be embarrassed to talk about this? Especially to the one she hates?
For her, maybe. There's not a lot that embarrasses her after the adventures with Camil and figuring her personality out.
"Or not?" She adds.
Gally still refuses to look at her. "Would you take the damn thing?"
"You can also just throw it. You could've done that a while ago if you want to get rid of it so badly." Joan sniffs. "Woah, Gally! Do you enjoy holding my—"
"No!" His voice is so desperate that she knows it's the truth, but it's funny watching his face get redder and redder by her comments. "I am not enjoying this at all, woman! Take your... BB-cover and let me continue living in peace."
"You call it a BB-cover?"
Gally yelps. "You know what I mean, for klunk's sake." Then he finally throws the thing into her arms. "I'm out!"
Her hands rest on her hips as he starts taking steps back. "Flustered or embarrassed, Gally?"
"Dying!" He insists, then starts mumbling. "Freaking... annoying... my god... I can't."
Joan's left alone, laughing and grinning at once.
❀
"May I ask why I saw Gally walking around with something I am sure is yours?"
Dinner with Minho, Ben, Newt, and Camil. Gosh.
She shrugs. "I dropped it and he delivered it back."
"How'd you—"
"I finally got my new hut and was running with all my clothes." She turns to Newt. "So you're free to sleep in your hut again now."
The frowning expression he's been wearing the past month turns into the biggest smile, along with a very relieved sigh. "God, those hammocks were killing my back! Thank you."
Her face falls. "But you could've told me that! I wouldn't have minded sleeping in a hammock, Newt. Now you had to suffer for a month!"
"Rather me sufferin' than our only girl being bloody unsafe." He shrugs it off. "But yeah, I am glad."
"Wait. Back pain, you said?" Joan puts a hand in the giant pocket of her hoodie, searches for a few seconds, then places the mini bottle filled with lavender oil on the table with a thud.
Minho's eyebrows fly up. "Drugs?"
"You wish." She chuckles. "It's lavender oil. So why don't you and Minho evolve your bromance with massaging this oil into each other's backs? Will relieve your back pain."
They share a glance. "We'll think about it."
Joan hands Newt the bottle, then continues eating her potatoes.
"Back to the OG subject." Camil tilts his head, grinning. "You've got to tell us that whole story."
And so she does. At the end, most are grinning or laughing, and she can't help but snicker, too.
Once they've finished eating, they hand their plates in and try to figure out what to do now.
"Y'all are boring," she admits. "You never play a game or anything after dinner? I mean, I appreciate all the mapping and rest y'all take to work well, but sometimes you gotta have some fun."
Camil nods in agreement. "Like us. We have fun like... every second of the day."
"Exactly." She clicks with her tongue. "What do we think?"
"Truth or dare!"
"Forget it, Minho," they reply in unison.
"Freeze tag!"
"Not bad," Joan implies. "Any other ideas?"
Newt hums. "Capture the flag?"
"Cool, cool." Camil claps in his hands. "I'll be the coach. We'll mix freeze tag and capture the flag. Meaning, we'll need more people to join. Go ask around, y'all."
Well. It takes longer than expected and it's already dark and colder outside once the teams have been made.
You know who ended up with her.