"So let me get this straight: you want us to build you a whole seperate bathhouse?" Hank asked. He looked at Newt, who was standing beside her, and rolled his eyes.

"I did not say that," Elizabeth said. "You can't move the showers because they were in the ground before I came. What I want is a seperate stall--taller than me, of course--and stalls for the rest of the showers that cover your waist."

Hank ran a hand through his hair. "You gotta be shankin' me," he mumbled under his breath.

"I'm sorry to have complicated things, but I really don't want to see any of you in the nude, and I really don't want any of you to see me in the nude."

Hank turned to Newt. "Are you siding with her on this?"

"Yes," Newt replied, "because we don't want problems to arise. Think about it. Elizabeth is the only girl in a camp full of hormonal slintheads. Alby's organizing a meeting to talk about it tomorrow."

"A meeting to talk about pissing regulations?" Hank asked.

"Among other things, yes."

Hank shrugged. "Have it your way, I guess. I'll talk to Doug and we'll get working on it."

"Thanks Hank," Elizabeth smiled at the other boy and he flushed and grumbled some more under his breath before walking away. She watched him go and then smiled at Newt. "Thank you, Newt."

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Newt replied, feeling heat creep up his own neck. They stood in silence for several moments before he thought of a question.

"So do you still need a pot?"

It was Elizabeth's turn to blush. Her whole face looked like a large tomato. "Yes," she said.

"Come on, then, I'll take you to one." Newt started walking and Elizabeth followed.

"Newt...is that really your name?" she asked suddenly. Newt looked back to see her frowning.

"What kind of shuck question is that? Of course it's my name," he replied.

"It's weird. I mean, did your mom look at you and think: 'he's perfect. I'm naming him Newt?'" Elizabeth let out a little laugh. It was a strange sound; Newt was used to the deeper pitch of the boys in the Glade.

"It's not that weird," he said. "Elizabeth is weirder."

"You think?" Elizabeth's mouth curvedp up into a cheeky grin. "Elizabeth was a Queen. Newt's a slimy creature. Like a salamander."

Bloody woman. Nobody else ever over-analyzed his name. Elizabeth nudged his shoulder.

"Lighten up, I'm just teasing," she said, then let out a groan.

"Okay, this is one of the places we go to take care of business," Newt gestured towards a pot. Elizabeth looked at it and a disgusted look replaced her pretty features.

"Ugh, gross. This might take a while."

Newt raised an eyebrow. Take a while? "I did not need to know that."

Elizabeth just laughed.

---

Hank and Doug were busy drawing a crude sketch of Elizabeth's bathroom requirements when Ric and Gally showed up.

"What do you shanks want?" Hank asked, alreaday irritated that he had to work all day on bloody bathroom stalls.

"Gally wants to join the Builders," the younger boy said. Hank looked at Gally. Gally had the same critical look on his face that he'd had when he arrived. It was like he was offended by something.

"You want to join us?" Doug asked. He grinned, oblivious to Gally's attitude. He figured the guy was just a shy sort of Greenbean. "Good, that! We need an extra hand with this project."

"What project?" Gally asked, surprising Hank. He hadn't expected the Newbie to talk.

"We're building some stalls around the showers. They have to go up to our waists to cover our--" Hank was cut off by Ric's annoying voice.

"To cover our property! Blueprints for our blueprints!" He shouted, smiling like he'd just made the joke of the year. The others ignored him. Hank continued.

"I was thinking of making one long room-type of things surrounding most of the showers and leaving the one on the end for Elizabeth. That one we have to build as high as we can, with a door and enough room to put a pot in."

Gally nodded like he understood, but he jabbed a finger at the paper.

"Why not just create individual stalls with their own gates? That way there's more privacy," he said. Doug looked down at the paper and ran a finger over his top lip in thought.

"That could work too," he said.

"That's too much work!" Ric complained. Hank smacked him on the side of his head.

"You're a Track-Hoe, slinthead. You don't have to do the work!" He itched his nose. "Speaking of which, shouldn't you be in the gardens right now? Zart will have your hide at dinner if he sees you slacking off."

Ric rubbed his head and glared at the older boys, but he took the hint and wandered off towards the gardens.

"Okay, so if we made seperate compartments, we'd have to gather more wood," Hank said.

"Not if you made them smaller than what you have drawn here," Gally pointed out. He grabbed a pencil stub and started marking up the paper. Hank and Doug leaned in for a closer look.

"You shouldn't need more than a foot by a foot. We could even add little holders for soap."

Hank was impressed. So was Doug. He clapped a hand on Gally's shoulder.

"Welcome to the Builder's Guild, Greenie!" he said.

---

The boy sat shrouded in mist, kneeling in the fallen leaves around a wooden grave-marker. He reached out and touched the edges of the cross, feeling nothing but regret.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. You were my one friend in this horrible place and I let you die." A tear slid down his muddy face and he pulled back his hand to cover his mouth. He closed his eyes and tried to shut the memory from his mind. Grievers. Screaming. Fire. Blood. Destruction. The face of Minho. The face of betrayal.

He opened his eyes and read the word on the marker: Billy

"I promise he will pay for this," he said. "I promise he will pay."

---

The next evening, the Glade assembled in the meeting hut, prepared to listen to one of Alby's long-winded speeches about life in the Glade and the rules the Greenie--in this rare case, Greenies--would have to follow. On one hand it was much the same as the regular meeting. On the other hand, it was an entirely new experience for the Gladers, especially when Nick started going over responsibilities and proper, "appropriate conduct" in front of their female Glader.

"Our rules are very simple," Alby was saying, watching Gally in particular. "Everyone does their part. Never hurt another Glader. You have to trust each other. And never go into the Maze unless you're a Runner."

"And don't you forget it," Nick put in, stepping forward. He eyed the two newcomers. "Slintheads get killed out there. We learned that the hard way."

Gally was an attentive listener during Nick and Alby's speeches. Elizabeth, on the other hand, seemed, at best, distracted. She continued fiddling with her hands and her short hair, looking everywhere but at the leaders. Or any of the other boys for that matter. It didn't go without notice, and while Nick was a bit irked, Alby understood it to be a discomfort on the girl's part. Most of the Gladers were staring her down, whispering together about her, or trying to catch her eye. Ric in particular was watching her with transfixed eyes and kept on inching closer to her without realizing it. Alby even caught Nick and Newt stealing glances, curious.

He decided to bring it to attention.

"Your behavior is jacked," he said, "have none of you shanks seen a girl before?"

Elizabeth finally looked up, a tinge of red dotting her cheeks. The girl was smart, she'd been waiting for this since the beginning of the meeting, and must have figured that Alby was going to mention it otherwise she'd have brought up the subject earlier.

"Listen, I get it. Elizabeth here gets it. But if you want to keep respect ya'll better keep your hands to yourselves and treat Elizabeth like you would any other Glader. Everyone deserves to feel safe here, and we can't have that if somebody starts getting perverted. Ya got that?"

Silence ensued.

Newt cleared his throat: "That being said, if you see something, don't just say something, do something."

"I'll make sure to wear modest clothing and hang out in public," Elizabeth added, causing a few of the boys to laugh awkwardly. Newt nodded at her.

"Everything helps."

More awkward silence.

Something tightened in Elizabeth's stomach, knowing the awkwardness was because of her. She'd heard the boys talking to each other with their slang, and she decided to add a word of her own. Standing up, she turned to the crowd, placed her hands on her hips, and said: "You klunkheads got that?"

Nick snorted. "Where'd you come up with that one?" he asked.

"Is that some kind of girl code?" P.F. spoke up from his seat.

"Don't ya mean slintheads?" Doug asked. Elizabeth shook her head and looked sheepish.

"It's, erm...the sound the pot makes when you...erm...you know..."

Hank, Dalton, and Ben burst out laughing. Newt and Alby looked at each other with wide eyes.

Minho grinned at Elizabeth cheekily. "No, we don't know. Please elaborate. The sound that what makes, exactly?"

Elizabeth glared at him and crossed her arms. "Poop. The sound the poop makes when it hits the pot."

A few seconds of shock and then...the entire assembly errupted in hysterics. Just like that, the serious tone of the meeting had dissapated.

"HOLY--! IS THIS FOR REAL?!"

"POOP. THE SHANK SAID POOP!"

"KLUNK! AS IN THE SOUND---! BLOODY HELL!"

"I thought it was more of a kerplunk sound, myself," Zart observed. The boys cackled with laughter and started passing the word around in sentences.

"You klunkheads want a piece of this?!" Dave cried, standing up and throwing himself at Doug, who was sitting just below him. They fell to the ground in a heap, and were soon joined by Will and P.F.

Dalton, Zart, Hank, and Ben engaged themselves in a heated shouting match.

"YOU STUPID KLUNK!"

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR KLUNkHEAD MIND?"

"I JUST KLUNKED MYSELF!"

Nick and Alby desperately tried to calm the crowd and return things to normal, but it was to no avail. Nick himself started shouting klunk-related curses into the crowd, which had the opposite effect desired. Newt and Minho were running around trying to referee the wrestling matches but eventually ended up joining in themselves. Only Ric and Gally were somewhat subdued, having striked up a conversation about their preference in girls. Odd. Alby hadn't pegged Gally as the type to discuss such matters. Elizabeth was laughing with the rest of them, and didn't stop her maniacal giggling when Alby went to stand beside her.

"You have officially broken the peace," he told her. "I might have to send you to the slammer."

"What, and ruin the moment?" Elizabeth laughed. "I'm an inventor and this has been my greatest achievement!"

Alby just shook his head and chuckled. "Welcome to the Glade, Elizabeth," he said.

----

Elizabeth was walking back to Minho's hut when Minho himself caught up to her. She smiled at him when he came up, and he returned it with a grin of his own.

"That was a pretty good word you came up with," he said.

Elizabeth nodded, "It was, wasn't it?"

"Listen, I was just going to ask you if you wanted to talk about permanent lodging," Minhos said. Elizabeth's eyes widened.

"Oh, I'm sorry! You probably want your hut back!" she said. Minho shook his head and grinned again.

"Nah, you can use it as long as you want. Actually, I wouldn't mind if you just took that one. Or we could have one made for you in a different area, seperate from any of the other guys."

Elizabeth thought about this. She finally shook her head.

"If you don't mind, I'll just use yours. I like privacy, but I'd rather be around the others in case something were to happen."

"Yeah, I get that," Minho said. After a moment he looked at her with dark eyes. "Are you worried?" he asked. Elizabeth blinked.

"Worried?"

"That something might happen."

"I don't know. Maybe."

Minho slid his hands into his pockets. She was truthful, at least, that much he appreciated.

"Are you worried?" Elizabeth asked. She watched him, gauging his response.

"About what?" he asked.

"That something might happen."

Minho shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

Elizabeth smiled at him and they walked the rest of the way in silence. When they reached the hut, Minho bid her a goodnight and Elizabeth went in and shut the door behind her. She fell onto the cot and briefly wondered if Minho had a new bed, or was sleeping on the ground. It was awefully generous of him to give her his hut. She looked up at the ceiling and clutched the blankets to her chest. A fly buzzed in through one of the cracks and from somewhere in the structure the wood creaked. She smiled. Then again, he was probably glad that he finally had an excuse to build a better hut.

As she closed her eyes, she thought of the Maze and its occupants, and wondered why she was here. Already she felt an ache of loneliness in her heart. She allowed herself to be lulled to sleep by the night sounds of the Glade and dreamt of a time when everything was warm.