CH. TWENTY - NINE
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"You're kidding?" She gasps up at him. "Seriously?!"
"Yeah—"
"Oh my god!" She jumps, and her arms wrap around Gally before she knows it. "Yes!"
The Greenie, Joe, and Alfred, the retired Runner, are now Tool-Makers. Obviously, she was at the Gathering too, but she barely spoke, since Gally somewhat took lead and insisted that both of them turned into Tool-Makers, because Joe was good when he tried it out, and Alfred was a great Builder back when he was the Greenie, so Tool-Maker won't be any harder.
So now she's not just with one other boy, but two! Less awkward, they can get more work done, and her job finally doesn't seem idiotic compared to the others, who have at least five boys.
"I don't like hugs," he grumbles.
"And yet your arms have wrapped around me a few seconds ago," she says.
"Because..." he starts, but the explanation never follows.
She lets go of him again. "Your face is all red, so I assume that was a good thank you."
"For what?"
"For making them Tool-Makers, of course." She crosses her arms. "So, Gally, thank you."
"It wasn't a big deal—"
"Thank you."
"I didn't specifically—"
"Would you just accept?"
"Fine." He crosses his arms, too. Looks down at her with a triumphant look. "You're welcome. Now go eat dinner, woman."
Her stomach makes a twist. "Alright. See you."
"Bye."
Happily, she gets her dinner and sits down in front of Alfred and Joe. "Hey, guys."
To her luck, they smile back just as brightly. "Hi!" Joe, the Greenie, greets. He seems quite young, like fourteen, with longer brown hair.
Alfred is a blond, in fact. A little bit gel styles his hair, but besides that, he's the same as the other boys. "Hey."
"I hope y'all don't mind working as a Tool-Maker," she starts.
"I don't," Joe says. "You seem cool. And not as stern as Gally and Eric."
She smiles. "Good that. Sorry 'bout your ankle, Alfred. Does it hurt much?"
"Well, a bit." He shrugs. "I'll live... no longer a Runner, but I'll live."
"There's gonna be a few times in which you have to run away from Alby, so don't worry." A chuckle leaves her mouth.
❀
With a deep breath, Joan dives into the water, constantly thinking back to what happened last time. She knows she didn't mind seeing her mother.
And though she might get into danger with this, she still moves along with the creatures that almost immediately show up.
This time, it doesn't hurt. Maybe because she's not resisting. She just swims through the thick blackness until she falls— and is then at a complete different location.
"I figured you'd come back," the familiar voice besides her.
Joan looks at her mother, then around her. They're in some kind of lab. Everything is white. Liquids bubble in little tubes and people are working with masks covering their mouths.
"Don't worry, they can't see us," Mary announces.
The questions starts leaving her lips. "What is this? How come they can't see me and how come this feels so real? Is all of this true? Everything that's happening?"
"The Changing never really stops," is all she replies.
So this is a memory, too? Sort of?
"Where are we?"
"WCKD's lab. My old work space." Her mother starts walking around. Joan follows behind, eyes widening each time she watches all the strange names on bottles. "They're working on a serum."
"So was I," she says.
"Yes." A nod. "And you figured it out, Joan. You made a serum. Not a cure, but it's good enough."
A few people in the lab start to get tense. She notices by the way the vibe changes and how their hands start working even more carefully.
When she looks back, her mother is gone. Vanished, just like that.
And when she looks at the people again, they're all starting at her with big, desperate eyes.
"An Immune," one gasps.
"She isn't immune," another says. "Look at her arm."
Joan's head snaps down at her arm. There's something on her wrist... a black hole, veins crawling and pulsing around it. Black veins.
"But she's different," another says. "Not immune but definitely a help to the cure."
A frown forms on her face as she takes a step back, swallowing. "...what?"
"Get the syringes," someone commands.
❀
Gasping and spatting water out, she reaches the surface. It takes a while to recover, on her hands and knees, coughing everything out.
They just poked who knows how many needles in her skin. Yet besides the pain, she has more answers now. She's not immune to... to what? But she can help with a cure for that. And apparently, she has already made a serum to help. That's what Mary said.
Joan looks down at her arm.
Nothing's there.
But it was a memory. Does that mean that she has been cured already?
❀
A day later, she tells Joe and Alfred how she works. Basically doing what they have to do. After that, they're done for the day. Just like that, the cycle repeats. Sometimes they're done before lunch, sometimes they work all the way 'till dinner, and sometimes she lets them leave earlier while she finishes the last things they need off.
It's great like this, but it makes her wonder how Gally works. He only has certain things to build, just like she has certain things to make. Does he have the same rules?
She sits down next to him at dinner. "Hey."
"Hi." He makes place for her. "What's up?"
"Not much. Just wondering how you fill all your time in with building? Do you really work from six to six, or do you stop working once you're done?"
"I assume that once I'm done, I can't continue working."
"Right." She nods. "Okay. Thanks. I was just curious."
They eat the rest of their dinner in silence. Her heart's pounding so fast against her ribs that she's afraid he'll hear it, especially when their knees brush against each other for the millionth time.
"I guess I'll—"
"Your hut is—"
They both stop.
"You go first."
"You go first."
She bites her lip. Manages a chuckle. "You say it."
"Your hut is finished," he says. "The wall. I hope it's steady."
"You hope?" Joan gets up with a frown. "Well, I'm gonna check it out. And if it's not steady, then you can go ahead and start over."
He follows her. "Didn't know I'm dealing with this pressure."
She just hums. Once she has arrived at her hut, she runs her fingers over the wood. Gally's right behind her, his breaths blowing against her neck and his frame towering over her, somewhat taking her breath away.
"You used another color wood," she says, inhaling. "Why the fuck would you use another color wood? This is the most unsatisfying thing ever."
"Live with it."
She opens the door to her hut and steps inside. "Let's see if it's better here, then."
Sighing, Gally follows.
Joan stares at the wood in her hut. "Pass me a candle, will you?"
"Why? Need checking your wall out to be romantic?"
A sigh. "No. It's getting darker outside, and even darker in here. Pass me one."
He hands her a candle. She lights it and puts it down on her desk, right beside the walls. "You already put my decoration back on."
"Yes. I had to repair your wall. It's got to look almost the same. You had them lying on your desk."
She nods. "But the wood ain't the same. And neither is the steadiness."
"Is it better or not?"
"Hm." Her arms fold. "I don't know. You're the expert."
"You're the one who wanted to check it out."
She pushes against it a bit. "Yeah, because it's my hut. Imagine it falls apart as I sleep."
"With your height, there's not much to check out. You're barely putting pressure on it." A chuckle escapes.
"You do it, then."
"Sure." He presses both of his hands besides her torso, trapping her between his arms, the space between them not even a feet.
Her mind goes blank. Hotness spreads everywhere, and she has no idea how to breathe at this point. Just feels her heart explode in her chest as his hands move around the wall.
"Seems pretty steady to me," he decides.
She turns around. Looks up at him. In the light of the candle, his face is glowing. His eyes stand sharp but twinkle at once. Lips no longer curved in a smile when she makes eye contact.
"Is it?" She manages.
He takes a deep breath, his chest heaving. "Yeah."
"You don't think we should check out... extra good?" She wipes her sweaty palms against her pants.
"Perhaps," he mutters. His hands slide onto her waist. Joan nods in approval, and in a second, he's got her pressed against the wall, their faces way closer now.
Butterflies spread everywhere, and it's no longer about checking the wall out. The hard edges of it press against her back, but she can't care. Her eyes trail over his face. Fuck, he really is close.
The hand that's wrapped around her waist burns through her skin as the other one cups her face. Looking him straight eyes, not able to look away, she wraps her arms around his neck.
And kisses him. Again. Except this time, he also kisses her. He's moving his lips, in fact. And his hand squeezes her waist tighter while they only back up against the wall more.
She sighs against his lips, melting into his touch. Feeling his chest pressing against hers. His hand on her neck, thumb rubbing circles before he moves her hair out of her face.
Joan pulls him closer, legs tightening around his waist. She feels as if she's... on fire. Drowning, but in heat. Her heart beats uncontrollably. Stomach won't stop doing flips and the tingles keep coming.
A whimper escapes at some point. She takes a sharp breath after it, her hand clenching on his shoulder. When they apart, they're both breathing heavily, only adding more heat to the small space between them.
"We should double check the wall," he decides.
"Yes," she agrees, and their lips collide again.
It's too good. His lips are soft while he moves rather roughly, though his touch is gentle. And she's clenching around him, just as breathless, but neither wanting to stop.
They move away again, but this time, way slower. Their gazes linger on each other's lips for a few seconds, then they look up at the same time.
"I think the wall's approved," she whispers.
He nods. "Definitely."
"But I usually check things three times."
"Good idea."
❀
Once he has put her down, right on time, the door opens and Camil rushes inside.
"Joan—oh, hi, Gally—you promised we'd hang out ton— hey, why's Gally here?"
"We're checking out of the wall he made me is alright," she says casually, ignoring how red her face is and how messed up her hair must look right now. "And it is."
"Yes," Gally agrees.
His eyes flash from Joan and Gally.
"What happened before I got here?"
"We were improving our stamina."
"Gally," she hisses.
Camil stares at them, mouth wide open. "That's one way to describe you kissed."
"Yes. Now get out for a minute."
"You can't last longer than that? Dude—"
"That's not what I meant," Gally snaps. "Out."
Half excited and half nervous, Joan watches the door close and Gally turn back to her.
"I figured I have to give an ordinary confession so I don't seem like a total prick."
"Oh— you really don't have to," she assures, chuckling.
"Well, I'm not arguing with that." He steps closer. "Not the best with words, so... awesome."
A laugh escapes. "We should do something about this height difference, though. I mean, if you're gonna be my boyfriend..." She shrugs. "Will you?"
She doesn't even care she's relying on her intrusive thoughts again. She never really had the realization that she's in love with him, but things have cleared up by now for sure.
"Isn't the guy supposed to—"
"Isn't that not supposed to matter?"
He also chuckles. "Yeah, sure."
"Yeah sure that's not supposed to matter or yeah sure you'll be my boyfriend?"
"Yeah sure I'll be your boyfriend," he confirms, a small grin forming. "Very sure."
"Good." She lets go of a breath. "Well, that was quite easy, don't you think?"
"Yes. We should've done it way earlier."
"But you hated me before."
"True. And you hated me."
She laughs. "Yes."
"That's sad. There's no 'I've actually been in love with you the whole time'."
"Nope. I truly hated you."
"So did I." He crosses his arms. "Well, Camil's waiting for you."
"Yes, I am!" It sounds from outside. "And y'all are cheesy as hell, what the shuck."
"I think we did pretty great, Camil," they say in unison.
"Besides, weren't you the number one shipper?"
"You're right. Give me a pillow."
Joan opens the door and hands him a pillow, in which he can't help but let a scream in.
"Awesome."