FIVE.
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"I can't believe it," Gally grumbled as he dropped his plate of food onto the table, nearly breaking the glass of the dish with the force he had applied. He slid onto the end of the bench with his fists clenched. His dark eyes darted between the other people sitting at the table. "I can't shucking believe it."
"What is it, Gally?" David asked, since it was pretty clear that he wouldn't tell us unless we asked him to. If one thing was for sure, it was that Gally liked reactions from his audiences.
Gally gripped onto his fork so tightly that his cracked knuckles went white. "That little slinthead nearly drove a nail into my hand today. We weren't even using hammers. He just - he shuckin' took the nail and tried to whack it in with a wrench. A wrench." He paused for effect. "I have never seen anyone mess up so badly in my life. Good luck, Clark."
Clark, who was the Keeper of the job Alex was heading to next, groaned and buried his head in his hands.
We were having dinner three days after the fire. Finally, after having to eat outside and at separate places due to the lack of space in tables, us Keepers were allowed to eat inside at night again. Frypan didn't like it. He was paranoid that we'd pass out from residing smoke that didn't exist. Despite the fact that the acrid air was gone, the Kitchen still smelled like charred wood due to the burns in the ceiling.
It was Minho's first time at the Keeper's Table. He hadn't said a word since we sat down, which was very unlike him. His fork was stabbed into a piece of meat that he had been drowning in gravy for a full minute.
I nudged him. "You're welcome to talk, you know."
"Nothin' for me to say yet," Minho replied without looking up. He finally stopped drowning his beef and put it in his mouth as an excuse for not speaking. I sighed and turned to my own meal of mashed potatoes, meat, and gravy accompanied with steamed broccoli.
"That's right," Nick said, but in addition to Gally's story and not the conversation between Minho and I. "Tomorrow, Alex goes to the Raisers. All that's left after that is you two, Nadia and Minho."
Minho choked on his meat, making a horrible coughing sound as his hand flew up to grasp his throat. I reached over and hit him hard on the back. What he had swallowed came out of his throat and back into his mouth before he attempted to swallow it again. Gally snickered.
A dark look crossed Minho's features. "You're lucky I didn't spit it out right onto your shuck face."
Gally, who was seated across from Minho, rolled his eyes as if Minho's words had merely bounced off of him.
"That kid should get thrown into the Slammer for almost killing the Cooks," Alby argued, switching the subject back onto Alex. He was in his usual spot beside Link, all the way at the opposite end from Nick. I noticed he had pushed his plate away from him after the choking incident.
"He's a Greenie, and it was an accident," Link reasoned in a softer tone. I was surprised that he had spoken at all, considering how he almost never had any input in any of our discussions.
"Accident, my butt!" Frypan shouted from where he stood in the actual kitchen. We all turned around to face him. He was in the middle of cutting up carrots and had almost dropped the large knife in his hand after Link spoke. "What kind of educated person puts an unopened can in the microwave? Had to ask for a new one and it still hasn't come yet. I want to deep-fry his sorry little--"
"Okay, Frypan." Nick stopped him before things got too vulgar. The Cook sighed and went back to chopping his carrots. "Obviously Alex is having a little trouble with all of his jobs so far" - Gally scoffed at that - "but things will get better. He'll find something he's good at and stick to it."
"The only thing that kid's good for is being a Slopper," Clark sneered.
"Clark," Nick warned with narrowed eyes, "what did I tell you about making fun of Sloppers?"
The redheaded boy faced his meal in shame.
After eating, we gave our empty dishes to the Cooks and headed toward the Box to collect the supplies. It came weekly on the same day every time. It held medical supplies, food, the occasional barn animal, blankets, clothing, and any other vital things we'd need to survive. Every single Glader was required to take off work on the evenings that the Box arrived to help unload. It made the job easier and a lot faster to complete.
Nick answered any questions about where things should go, which happened frequently enough that he wasn't able to do any real lifting. Since the Builders and Runners were usually the strongest out of all of us, they were the ones to jump into the Box and lift things out.
I was assigned to do absolutely nothing but sit and watch. I hated it. Every time I saw a Glader struggling with something heavy, I wanted to rush over and help them carry it. My leg was useless. I couldn't do anything but stand back and let the others do the heavy lifting. It sucked.
"Nadia!" Minho's voice sounded from inside the Box. I was close enough to hear him, and my head snapped toward the structure at the sound of my name. "Someone get Nadia and help me outta here!"
Curious, I crutched over and watched as several boys pulled Minho out of the Box. He landed on his hands and knees in the grass and scrambled up to his feet. Bending over, he accepted something that a person still in the Box passed up to him. And when he turned around, my heart nearly stopped.
My brace.
It was a strange sight- completely black with several straps connecting the two pieces together. It seemed the thing would cover my entire leg from my foot to my thigh. I wasn't sure how on earth having a brace like that would help me walk at all, but I was willing to test it out. After all, I was sick of crutches.
Minho ran over to me with excitement lighting up his eyes. "What are you just standing there for? Let's go put this on!"
"Now?" I questioned, my eyebrows pinching together as I scanned over the Gladers who were still gathering supplies. "But we aren't done--"
Minho waved his hand in dismissal, which shut me up. "No one will notice if we slip away for a bit. I'll just pretend I'm carrying something and you're giving me moral support."
I sighed, the air blowing out of the side of my mouth as I pondered it. Sure, I was plenty excited to try on the brace and walk again, but I was also afraid. It had only been a few days since I had broken down while lugging the stupid door of the Map Room open. Surely it couldn't have healed that much in such a short amount of time. Plus, it felt kind of wrong to just leave everyone to finish emptying out the Box.
But Minho was begging me to come. It was hard to resist him, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nick give me a thumbs up. That was my okay to leave.
I sighed and started crutching toward the Homestead. Minho cheered and followed alongside me with my brace in his arms. I eyed it anxiously as we moved along across the Glade.
I opened the front door by myself and got inside the building, pushing it wide open after I did so in order for Minho to come in as well. I dropped the crutches and hopped on my good foot to the base of the stairs. My butt plopped down on the fourth step and I stretched out my leg, something I hadn't done since the morning.
Minho started to unstrap the brace for me, but I stopped him. "Wait," I said. "Can I please do it?"
Minho halted his action and rose his eyebrows at me. A smirk was quirking up his lips. "I see you've still got that flair of politeness to you. Oh well, it's better than 'Hand over the shuck thing' like anyone else would say."
He handed me the brace. It was heavy, and for the millionth time I wondered how in the world I was going to be able to walk on it. Nevertheless, I sighed and got to work undoing the straps. I inhaled sharply as I bent my leg up toward my chest and grit my teeth at the stabs of pain that overtook my senses. It was more bearable than it had ever been, which was a good sign, at least. I leaned the brace on the steps below me and slowly slid my leg in. It fit like a glove.
Once my leg was in, I exhaled and rested my elbows on the step above me, leaning my head back as I took a breather. The ache had already started to subside. I straightened up and finished strapping the brace together so it was nice and snug. Instead of the pressure causing more pain, it slightly lifted my leg somehow so I wasn't putting as much weight on it.
The metal portion of the brace meant I couldn't bend my leg much, which made it somewhat difficult to stand up from my current position. Minho understood that I wanted to attempt to get up by myself and stood to the side. He watched curiously as I gripped the railing and hauled myself to my feet awkwardly.
It didn't hurt as much as I expected. The tightness of the brace did lift my leg so I was depending more on the right than the left. I stared, slightly wide-eyed, at the fact that I had both feet on the ground and I wasn't crying hysterically yet.
"One small step for woman," Minho joked in a dramatically deep voice, causing a laugh to bubble out of me. I took a step. I was fascinated by the fact that there was only a small stab of pain compared to the complete and utter agony that I had experienced before.
Pretty soon, a smile was taking over my features as I hobbled around the foyer of the Homestead. It reminded me of the first time I had used my crutches. Except this time, Minho didn't need to help me at all and stood away from me, clapping in mock amusement. I stuck my tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes.
"I forgot to tell you." Minho dramatically dug around in his front pocket like it was a bottomless abyss. He produced a piece of folded paper that was too perfectly folded to have been done by one of us. "Your present came with a note."
"Well, can I read it?" I asked, more out of habit than anything. The inside part of me wanted to rip it out of his hand.
Minho chuckled. "It's your note, so yeah. Old habits die hard, huh?"
"Something like that," I mumbled as he handed me the paper. Ever so carefully, I unfolded it and read what was inside.
Nadia-
The brace will take some time to get used to. Please be patient. We suspect you will be able to bend your knee soon if all goes according to plan and you keep eating the food we send. When that time comes, we will send a new brace to accommodate your progress.
I analyzed the handwriting very carefully. It was loopy and careful, with not a single flaw in any letter. I had expected some sort of unintelligible scrawl that doctors always seemed to have.
I blinked in confusion. Doctors having messy handwriting? Why did I think the person was a doctor? And where did that thought even come from?
Just as I started to delve deeper into it, it vanished and I completely forgot what I was even thinking about. Minho was waving a hand in front of my face to get my attention. I blinked, focusing on him and handing the note back.
"Nothing special," I told him sourly with my lips pulled into a frown. "Just 'be patient' and 'keep eating the food we send.' They sound like shucking robots!"
Minho read the note and pursed his lips. "Does seem like they were trying to convey as little emotion as possible. Weird." He let it flutter to the ground and stepped on it, twisting his foot until the paper ripped. "They're just a bunch of klunkheads anyway."
"I'm still gonna listen to what they told me," I pointed out.
"Yeah, I know," Minho sighed as he stared down at the now crumbled, dirty paper with a dirty shoe print on it. "It was more for show than anything."
When I stepped outside, I noticed that only a few things still remained in the Box. The Gladers just milled around or conversed with each other until Nick gave the order to start our bonfire. Newt, however, had been waiting right outside the Homestead for us.
"'Bout bloody time," he said the moment I opened the door, scaring me out of my wits. Unluckily for him, my initial reflex was to punch.
"Nadia!" Minho exclaimed as my fist landed in Newt's cheek, sending his head back at the force I had applied to the hit. "Holy shuck. Remind me to never scare you."
My jaw dropped in horror once I realized what I'd done. Newt rubbed his cheek in pain, his face screwed up in discomfort. Luckily, I hadn't hit near his eye. The skin would only be red for now.
"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed and awkwardly jumped down from the front steps, keeping my bad leg straight. My arms locked around his middle as I hugged him. "You have permission to punch me whenever you like."
Newt chuckled. His chest vibrated as he did so. "It's alright. I probably had that coming, anyway. Knew it was a bad idea to do that to the shuckin' Keeper of the Runners."
I pulled back from the hug and inspected his face.My fingers squished his cheeks as I rotated his head around and squinted at the skin. It looked fine except for the slight red tint, and I hadn't punched him too hard. He'd be alright.
Minho let out a low whistle. I turned to see him rocking on his heels, arms crossed and a smile on his face. "Still can't get over that. Buttercup can pack a punch."
I held up my arm and flexed with a completely straight face. The muscle strained, causing peaks and valleys to form on my skin. Minho and Newt both had identical expressions of shock on their faces as they stared at me.
I let my arm fall back to my side with a slap against my leg. "I've been running in that Maze ever since I first arrived. Of course I have muscle."
Newt shook his head to clear his look of astonishment. His neck had turned slightly red, though I wasn't sure if it was from the beginnings of a sunburn or because he was embarrassed. Either way, he still avoided my gaze and pointed to where Gladers were starting to lug giant logs toward a pit of sand we used for our bonfires.
"We should go help out," he commented. "They'll be expectin' us to, and you guys have gotten out of most of the work already."
Minho looked down at me with a wry grin on his face. "Ready to do some heavy lifting?"
I raised my eyebrows at him. "You don't even have to ask."
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good news: i'm working on a playlist for this story. yay!
more good news: you guys voted, and the official ship name has been decided. it's *drumroll* madia!
(shoutout to silentwishing who said they're gonna say ninho no matter what the ship name ends up being)
-kristyn