"Name's Newt, Greenie. Welcome to the Glade."
The Glade.
I sat against a tree close to the Deadheads, circling my finger in the grass. Why was I here? Why couldn't I remember anything?
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Someone poked my side, and I slowly woke up. How could I possibly have been sleeping?
"Hey Greenie, wake up." I recognized the voice of Newt. I mumbled and hid my face in my arm. I just wanted to sleep forever, or maybe even wake up back home.
Home... I thought. What used to be my home?
"Tommy!" Newt kicked me in the side. Tommy? I sat up, deciding to ignore it.
"Wow, good bloody morning," He put his hands on his hips. "You look horrible, shank."
I grimaced at his amusement, brushing it off and standing up.
"Well, yesterday wasn't exactly easy."
"At least you're bloody wakin' up." He frowned. "No other shank seems to want to." The taller boy motioned around. I noticed that the Glade was completely empty of people, except me and Newt.
"Maybe it's too early," I said. What was it, four in the morning?
Newt laughed, somewhat mockingly, and turned to walk. Good thing he was walking slowly,  I was still groggy.
"So, why am I up so early, er, Newt?"
Such an odd name. It kept slipping my mind. Why did I remember my name? I couldn't even remember my age!
"Listen up, ya bloody shank!" He snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Sorry."
"I said I'm working in the gardens today, Tommy," All of his anger seemed to dissipate. "And I was wondering if you just wanted to do that with me."
Gardens in a place like this?
"Uh, sure." I nodded. "Sounds good."
Newt smiled. "Great. But first, let's get some breakfast from Frypan."
Frypan. Another odd name.
I stayed quiet, following Newt into Frypan's kitchen. We sat and ate, listening to the silence and of the cooking. By the time a Newt had had finished, people started to wander in and I barely touched my food. I couldn't.
"Hey Newt?"
"Hm?" He slipped his plate into the sink and say back down.
"Are we friends?"
The blonde boy sat silent for a second, then smiled and pinched my chin between his thumb and pointer finger.
"You're cute, Greenie. Meet me in the gardens, and bloody hurry up!" He patted my head and dashed off.
----------------------------------------------It took me forever to find the gardens, and when I got there the camp was already full of life. People buzzed around me, busy with their jobs or chores.
I spotted Newt along the edge, chopping wood with an axe. He wore orange tanktop, his dirty white jacket tied around his waist. His arms and chest glistened with sweat. One if his feet was propped up on the stump where he set the logs to chop. His hair was a messy, wavy mess, but not a bad mess.
"Tommy!" He called. "Quit staring!"
I snapped out of it, blushing and strolling over to him.
"Took you long enough." He smiled. "I'm almost done!"
Newt set his foot down, leaning on the axe. His hands rest on the top after he motioned me towards him. Nervously, I covered the space between is in two steps, standing inches away from him. I waited for him to say something, but he just looked up at me, smiling. I swallowed shyly, and Newt mindlessly rocked back and forth. Finally he spoke, making a short clicking noise with his teeth.
"You're something special, Greenie. Really."
I couldn't find any words to speak, so I just nervously smiled, not able to meet his eyes.
"Well," he stood up, swinging the axe over his shoulders. "Better get this bloody done."
As he continued to swing the axe over his shoulder, I couldn't help but watch him closely. He noticed almost immediately.
"You wish," he smirked. "Go pull some weeds, Greenie."
"Don't call me Greenie." I stated. It was such a stupid nickname.
"Then what do you want to be bloody called?" Newt looked over, stopping what he was doing.
"I like Tommy."