CHAPTER SEVEN
( BREATHE )

     "ARE YOU OKAY?" I LOOK over, realizing that I had woken Minho up. The light from the moon shows through the window, illuminating the room around us.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," I stutter, nodding my head as I look at the floor. "It was just a bad dream."

"Are you sure?" He sits up on his bed. My eyes move to him, but I quickly avert my gaze- blushing- as I realize he's shirtless.

"Yeah, I'm positive." I murmer. I slowly stand up from the bed. "I think I'm just gonna take a walk."

"In the middle of the night, in the dark?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Well, when you say it that way, it sounds like I'm a serial killer." I snort, walking to the door.

"Maybe you are," He narrows his eyes. "Are you a serial killer?"

"No." I chuckle.

"I don't approve." He says. "Going outside at this time of night isn't okay. Especially when you're the only girl here."

"I seriously doubt anyone will be up." I shrug, then leave the room quietly. I make my way out of the Homestead, and into the woods, hoping that Thomas would be awake right now.

Thomas? Are you awake?

I am now, he replies.

I sit down in front of a tree, and lean on the trunk. I'm sorry for waking you up. But I think I remember you.

What do you mean?

I had a memory when I was asleep. I pause. It was you, me, and some girl named Teresa.

Your memories are coming back? Was this the first memory you had? He asks quickly.

Yes, I roll my eyes. I would've told you earlier if I had one.

That means Ava and Jansen are controlling your mind. They're sending me in soon. It's a sign.

I don't understand . . . I trail off. What's a sign? They're sending you where? Who's Jansen? Who's Ava?

I can't explain it now. You'll find out soon enough.

And with that, he cuts me off.

"Damn it, Thomas," I grit my teeth. "What are you hiding?"

___♕___

"Grace?" A voice asks.

I blink rapidly after opening my eyes, looking around me.

Why am I in the woods?

"Why the bloody hell are you sleeping in the woods?" Newt asks, furrowing his eyebrows. "Have you gone crazy?"

"Yeah . . . " I trail off, running my fingers through my hair. "I think I have."

I sit up, and stretch my arms out.

"Well, go take a shower." Newt sighs. "You have some more jobs today."

"Oh shit." I groan. "What today?"

"You're with Frypan and Minho today." He smiles slightly. "Don't worry. I'm sure they'll go easy on you."

___♕___

"Am I doing this right?" I ask Frypan, touching a pancake with my spatula. "I don't think this pancake is cooked."

"If you cook it long enough, then it's done." He shrugs in reply.

"But how long am I supposed to cook it?"

"However long it takes. Cook it 'till its done." He chuckles.

"How long does that take though?" I ask, getting aggravated. "One minute? Two minutes? Three minutes?"

"Wow, you really can't cook, can you?" He raises an eyebrow, staring at the pancake- which is now black.

"Shit!" I swear, scooping the pancake from the pan. "Fuck! Damn!"

"Start a new one." Frypan instructs. "Maybe this time you won't burn it."

"You got me distracted!" I point a finger at him. "I didn't think it would burn in a matter of seconds."

"You just have to concentrate." He says. "Don't focus on anything else."

I toss the pancake into a bag full of garbage, and pour some batter into the pan. The pancake forms into a circle, and the edges start to sizzle.

"There ya go." Frypan encourages. "Just watch it."

And I take his advice to a maximum level. I literally have a staring contest with this pancake, waiting for the bottom of it to turn brown. Because I'm going to be a kick-ass pancake cook.

I pick my spatula back up, and flip the pancake, only to see that it's black.

"FUCK!" I yell, throwing the spatula across the kitchen. Cooks look at me oddly, like I've grown two heads.

"It's okay." Frypan assures me, handing me a new spatula. "Just throw that one away, and try to cook some sausage."

"Okay." I let out a heavy sigh. I throw the pancake away, and grab a piece of frozen sausage from the plate next to me. I place it on the pan, and ready my spatula.

It's about to get real up in this bitch.

I time myself, watching the sausage carefully. I flip it every few moments, scared that it will burn it.

"You burned it again, Grace." Frypan sighs.

"SON OF A BITCH!" I screech. I pick up the scalding-hot sausage, and chuck it in a random direction.

"Is everyone okay?" Newt asks, sprinting into the kitchen. "I heard Grace scream. Who's hurt?"

"No one's hurt," I frown. "I just can't cook."

"I'll say." Frypan rolls his eyes. "She's burned everything she's cooked."

He bites his lip, and I can tell that he's holding in his laughter.

"Take me to Minho," I turn to Newt. "I'm done here. I can't cook for shit."

___♕___

"Minho," Newt says, walking to the picnic table where Minho sits. "Grace is ready. You'll be training her today, since I can't. Alby wants to see me for some reason."

"Yeah, I heard." He nods. "I also heard that she almost burned down the whole shucking kitchen."

"I did not!" I gasp. "I only burned two pancakes and a piece of sausage!"

"You're the worst cook in the whole Glade." Minho shakes his head. "I guess stereotypes are wrong."

I slap the back of his head as he laughs. "Just teach me some shit about being a Runner, you fuckface."

"Excuse me." He looks at me with a look that says 'bitch what the fuck did you just say to me'.

"You heard me." I cross my arms over my chest.

"Nice job, Minho." Newt snickers. "You just got told off by a girl."

"Shuck off," Minho glares at Newt. "You're not in this conversation."

"Hello?" I ask smartly, putting my hands on my hips. "Am I getting trained or not?"

"Sure." Minho stands up. "Lets go."

"Where are we going?" I ask, following him around.

"First, you're going to show me your skills."

"What skills?"

He stops in his place. "Drop and give me twenty."

"Twenty what?" I look at him with confusion.

"Push-ups."

"Oh," I lay on the ground, and roll onto my stomach. I push myself up shakily, but fall back to the ground. "Damn it."

"Keep going." Minho commands.

I groan in frustration, and push myself up again. "Minho, I can't do this." I sigh hopelessly, laying my face in the grass.

"Get up."

I stand up like he tells me, and roll my sleeves up. "What now?"

"Do fifty jumping jacks." He tells me.

"What?"

"Sixty." He says expressionless.

"Minho-"

"Seventy."

I zip my lips, and begin on my seventy jumping jacks. After finishing thirty, I find myself already out of breath, and panting like a dog. Despite my lack for oxygen, I keep going, as Minho watches me like a hawk.

When I do my last jumping jack, I fall to the ground, wheezing.

"Good. Now do fifteen laps around the whole Glade." Minho pulls me up.

"Minho, I can't breathe." I say between deep breaths.

"Then hurry up." He stares at me expectantly. "The faster you get your laps over, the faster you can stop."

I nod at him, and sprint as fast as I can around the Glade. I guess Minho really takes his job seriously. But why is he pushing me so hard?

I push my thoughts aside, and focus on getting myself through my second lap. My legs burn, aching me to stop running. I shove myself forward, clenching my fists to distract myself from the pain.

A loud siren goes off across the Glade, aching off of the Maze walls. I trip over a rock, while not paying attention to what's in front of me, and fall to the ground.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead, and get back up, rushing to where all of the other Gladers are gathered.

Grace! Thomas' voice rings through my mind. Grace!

What? What's going on, Thomas?

Jansen is about to put me through the Swipe. I need you to remember something, okay?

What's the Swipe? What are you talking about? What am I supposed to remember?

W.I.C.K.E.D. is good.

I try to talk to Thomas again, but I can't. I'm confused beyond my control when he won't reply to me.

"Newt, what's going on?" I ask. "What's that noise?"

"It's a siren." He replies, not too calmly. "The box is coming up."

"What does that mean?"

"Another Newbie's comin' up the bloody box."

_______