-Newt POV-

"Is she a Greenie?" I asked, pacing around Minho's tent. I walked in an hour earlier, while he was still asleep, and he's really ticked now. "Or should I say The Girl?"

"Why should I care about that?" he groggily grumbled. He had only awoken about ten minutes ago, and the sight of my leaning over him gave him an instant heart attack. I'm guessing that he was fairly ticked that I was his wake-up call. "Get out of my tent. I need to get ready."

"Just answer the bloody question," I snapped. I can tell that Minho was pretending not to care. If it were up to him, she'd be the "Shucking shank on the shucking stick in the shucking Slammer. "I'll leave after I hear your answer."

"You'll hear my answer after I'm dressed," he proceeded to push me out of his tent. I walked across the Homestead to go to the Mess Hall. There was Marie sitting next to Gally. From what I could tell, he told some klunk joke that's making her laugh so hard that she'd be klunking her pants. I steamed up seeing them together. She's been here for only two days and hasn't even finished her tour, yet she has the grace to sit with other guys? This won't do. I marched over to their table.

"Mornin' Newt," Marie nodded towards me. I scowled at her. Taking note of my expression, she remarked, "You're looking fine today."

"Slim it, greenie," I snapped, erasing the frown that was on my face. "What you did a few nights ago normally would've earned you a trip to the Slammer, but you got lucky."

"Slinthead," she muttered, looking up at me. I raised an eyebrow. I was surprised at how quickly she picked up on the language here at the Glade. I remembered the remark she had said before about treating her like an equal, but this is just nonsense. No one in the Glade has been able to pick up the slang in two days. Even I took about a month getting used to the new language that we had created ourselves. It was a new experience with this girl. What else were we going to see?