26 Dawn

It's hard to see the stars through the tree branches. I'm not sure why I find myself in the Deadheads so much. It might be because the Deadheads provide the perfect cover for me to hide in. Not that I am one for secrets, or for protecting myself in them.

I much prefer the open air, and wide space. However, I don't really have the luxury of those in the Glade. Especially not if I am sneaking around seeing a boy in secret.

"Hey," I hear his voice.

I spin around to see Minho approaching me. He smiles when I make eye-contact with him, and I shake my head to the side as I smile at him.

"Hello," I smile back at him.

He wipes his chin as he moves closer to me, trying to bite back the smile on his face. "Took you a while to get in here. Worried about someone seeing you?"

"I wasn't planning on meeting you," I nod at him, pressing my back into the tree behind me.

"I guess it's purely a happy coincidence that you did," Minho smiles. "I can't say I'm upset to see you."

"Thought you might be," I begin, watching him freeze. "After the other night."

He doesn't acknowledge my words. As if he is more fascinated by the chill of the breeze in the absence of the sun. I wait for him to say anything about that conversation, but he doesn't. Instead, his eyes hit the ground.

"It's fine," I whisper, my eyes falling down.

Minho grabs my arm, and my eyes fly up to him. He looks at my face. I can't tell if he is studying me, but I'm studying him. Brown eyes which crease. Cheeks tinged pink in the cold. Skin soft and sturdy.

"It's not fine," he manages. "It just is."

I don't want to carry on this conversation, so I move past it. "Why were you so late today."

"Someone found something today." Minho notes, shrugging over his shoulder. He recoils from me, closing up. "In the end, it turned out to be that he just ran into the wrong section, but we were pouring over the maps for hours. Stupid klunk."

Right, he still runs out in that Maze every day. While I'm stuck in here, baking in front of hot ovens, he is sprinting through freedom. I can only imagine what the feeling must be like in his fingertips, since I haven't tasted it since I got back to the Glade.

"How does it feel?" I ask.

He cracks a laugh, before stepping even closer. "Being here with you? Pretty spectacular, a bit dangerous, and pretty cold."

"Being a Runner," I ignore him, even though he has moved so close I can feel his breath on my face. "You know, being out there. No Gladers, no rules, no responsibilities."

"You're shucking crazy if you think I'm not worrying out there."

He's mostly kidding, and he doesn't say it with any animosity, but I can't imagine that he is right. Trapped between these Walls, it's a wonder I haven't got mad yet.

"There's nothing in here." I tell him, looking around. "I'd kill to be out there."

He shakes his head, before sitting down in front of me. I follow him down to the ground.

"The Maze is shucking awful," He doesn't look at me, but as he speaks I can feel his hands fiddling with the cuff on the bottom of my pants. "Really."

"Yeah, I saw those Grievers," I begin.

He shakes his head, as his hand migrates to the laces on my shoes. My eyes flicker to his, but he doesn't watch me. Maybe he doesn't realise he is touching me."It's not like that. Those damn Grievers ain't the whole problem."

"What is?" I ask.

"It's the pressure, Dawn." He looks up at me as he says it. "Out here, in the Deadheads, it feels like I can breathe."

"It's claustrophobic," I roll my eyes.

"Maybe, but its safe," he sighs. I don't think he likes it anymore than I do. He looks down at the ground, listening to the silence. "Are you serious about running?"

Am I serious? Being a Runner means the wind in my hair. It means sprinting and rounding corners, and thinking and reacting. If I were a Runner, I would be free for hours a day, without having to worry about deadlines and burning bread.

Am I serious? Of course I am.

"Yes."

"It's not what you think it is." He stares me down, waiting for me to protest before he continues. "You're too pretty to be out their like a lab rat. It's not right."

"Being pretty has nothing to do with it," I shake my head.

He nods. "That came out wrong. I wasn't saying you can't fight because you're pretty. I'm just saying, you are pretty and also deserve better.

"Besides, everyone depends on us to find a way out. One slip up, one wrong turn, and you are dead. Nobody survives a night out there. Everyday it is a race to the finish line. It's not freedom out there. Every step is calculated and preplanned."

"I thought Runners didn't play by the book." I joke, looking him up and down.

"I don't." He nods in agreement, a smirk playing on his lips. "Else I wouldn't be here with you."

"Thought we were just friends." I begin.

He doesn't answer, eyes drifting further away. Not that I blame him. I don't get what he is so afraid of. The Gladers have no reason to kill us, not that they should want to.

"You're too serious." I joke, standing up quickly.

He rolls his eyes, before following me up. He maintains a respectful distance. An arms length away. One arm further back.

"No shanks ever called me such a nasty word," he shakes his head, a grin on his lips. "I'm just trying to tell you what you are getting into."

"I know what I'm doing," I tease back. "You are all like "if you step out there you will die-""

"I am not," Minho steps closer to me, inviting me into his space. In these few seconds, he loses himself.

"Yes," I argue, stepping closer. "Yes you are. You said exactly "Dawn, out in that Maze if you step on the ground funny it will swallow you up whole." You said that."

"I definitely did." He shakes his head at me, as he bites his lip. One more step, and our chests are almost touching "You like to put words in my mouth."

"I'm not," I tease, closing the gap. "I'm citing you on that. Exactly."

"Exactly?" He wraps an arm around my waist.

I nod, but don't answer. Quickly, his fingers leaning into my stomach, and I feel a laugh burst out of my chest.

"What was that?" I'm trying to make my voice sound serious, but I can't be serious around him. He brings out the fun in me. The laughter and the sweet talk comes out whenever he speaks.

"Nothing," he answers, before leaning further in

I flinch away, suppressing a laugh on my cheeks. It tickles, but feels almost like a Taser on my side. Is this his idea of playing around?

If it is, I'm certainly not complaining.

"But you'll put in a word for me about your 'super scary and dangerous' job." I use air quotes around the description of being a Runner.

"Yeah, sure," he answers nonchalantly, distracted. He's staring at me. "What are friends for?"

For a second, I see him tense up. He leans in closer to my mouth, and when I move in to kiss him, he backs away.

"You smell like Gally's drink." He begins it, slightly accusatory. "Are you shucking-"

"No," I laugh. "I barely remember anything from the first bonfire, and I woke up with a massive headache. Trust me, I'm not drinking that much ever again."

He cocks an eyebrow at me, peeling himself back to get a good look at me.

"No, I'm serious." I fiddle with the fraying collar of his shirt. It unravels in my fingers, much like his gaze as I play around. "I'm completely in it. One glass, that's all."

"One glass is all it takes for Fry," he answers. "Why were you even having it?"

I shrug, "I don't know. It's been a long day, and Frypan and I cracked them open after we finished cooking."

Minho nods, before loosening his grip on me. At least I know he trusts me. I'm not lying either; Frypan and I were just relaxing after Ben came in to scream at us about something in his food. Apparently there was tiny white stuff. Fry was under the impression some of the drywall in Ben's hair fell into his food and the boy was jacked. After being belittle for half an hour, I didn't particularly care why Ben was so mad though.

That's when Frypan brought out the drink.

"So, you're not-"

I shake my head, as I lean in to him. Since I'm shorter then him, only if by an inch or two, I press my lips against his chin. I can hear the air that slides out his nose and the skin on his face tighten as he smiles.

"No," I say it straight up, and I can feel him completely relaxing.

"Good," he answers. "I didn't want you to have to drink to work up the courage to talk to me."

"I wouldn't call it working up the courage."

"No? I think I'd need the courage to talk to me."

I begin to feel a grin creeping up on my face. "I still wouldn't call it courage."

"Then what would you call it?"

I shrug my shoulders, glancing past him into the dark Deadheads. "I'd call it finding the will to talk to you."

He pulls back from me, but I reach my hands up around him and pull him right back in. He's not getting away from me that easily. So long as he is willing to be near me, I am going to be near him.

When he kisses me first, I'm slightly surprised. I feel my arms wrapping up and around his neck. His lips are softer than his skin. Though they are slightly chapped, they press against me smoothly. He's so warm, and sweet, and halfway through the kiss he has to breakaway to smile.

"You are amazing Dee."

"Where am I?"

I feel Minho leap back and off of me. My heart starts to race as I look around. I can hear Minho breathing heavily, and I can see him crashed against the ground in a big heap. He looks forward, and when I spin my head up I see Curly.

She isn't facing us, in fact it seems she is walking backwards. I doubt she even saw us, but I can still see Minho panicking beside me. I can see his skin crawling up his arms, leaving his bones exposed to the girl before us.

I can feel the veins in my body popping up to the surface, as they feel like we are about to burst.

We are so very lucky.

"Are you alright?" I ask, taking a step closer towards the girl before me.

Minho is up on his feet, standing in front of me with his hands in the air. I try to roll my eyes, but I am still struggling to breathe.

"She's not going to hurt us." I hiss to him. "She's like what? Five feet tall?"

He nods, as he relaxes. "Sorry, it's an instinct."

Curly begins to spin around before she sees the two of us standing together. Even though she looks at me, her eyes seem distant and far off.

I'm supposed to be protecting her, at least I feel like it deep in my bones. Past the skin that shakes and panics and past the blood that is scared and violent, I know she is my responsibility.

We are a coalition. A team working together, united. She is my burden, just as she is Michelle's and Leo's.

She tips towards me, as I can see the blood that begins to tip out her nose. I try to leap forward past Minho, but he sprints forward and takes the girl by the shoulders. He cradles her as he lowers her to the ground.

"Go get a Med-jack," he yells at me, looking up.

"She's my responsibility," I sit down on the ground, cradling her head in my lap. "You're the Runner, run!"

He listens, getting up and moving quickly out of the forest. "I'm getting Leo."

Blood continues to drip down her face as she looks up at me.

"The purple girl, she's gone." She begins, and I can feel her dark arms gripping my skin. "She's like you. Why is she like you?"

"Sorry?" I cradle her up closer to me. I don't know what to do with girls who are coughing up blood.

It splatters onto my face, and I can only cover my eyes as she coughs. "You're not purple though. I don't feel it off of you."

"Curly it's alright," I try to reassure the girl who is breaking apart in my arms. I have no idea who she is talking about. None of us wear purple clothes.

"No, we left her," she begins. "She left us, but we left her. We've got to find her. Her voice is gone."

"Curly," I try to continue, but I hear people running up behind me.

Rounding the corner is Leo with an oil lamp in her hands. She stares at me, both my eyes and hers adjusting to the light.

"What are you doing?" She asks. "It's 3:00 am."

"She came here." I tell Leo, watching as she adjusts her shirt and rubs her eyes.

She drops the oil lamp on the ground as she bends down next to Curly.

"Do you know if she fell?" She asks, peering into Curly's eyes. "Is she lucid? How long has she been up?"

"She just showed up!" I tell her, letting her take over the girl.

"If you don't know anything, you should get out of here." She tells me. "Minho has gone to get the other Med-jacks, and it'll be hard for him to find an excuse as to why you were both out here alone, and why your hair is disheveled."

I stand up, taking my hair out of my ponytail and letting it ripple down around me. She is right, and all I can do is stare at her and Curly, who shakes violently, as I run out of the Deadheads.

~~~
Keep wondering until Monday.