Florence felt something tap her shoulder.

She raised her hand and brushed whatever it was away, and rolled over to continue sleeping. Her eyes were heavy with tiredness.

Another tap.

This time, she opened her eyes and found Newt crouched beside her. He was tilting his head to look at her, grinning down in amusement.

"What's going on?" She kept as quiet as possible, knowing Minho would still be asleep, and her confusion and exhaustion also prevented her from going louder than a whisper.

"I gotta show you something Greenbean." She let out a groan, hoping that Newt would take the hint that she didn't want to get up.

"Florence, you need to see this." His change of tone scared the girl, and she decided to co-operate, slipping out from her sleeping bag quietly and tiptoeing across the room.

Glancing back, she saw that Minho was still fast asleep.

Newt was limping across the Glade as quickly as he could, and it became clear to Florence that he wanted to show her whatever it was before anyone else woke up.

He was heading straight for one of the Maze's walls, and Florence was beginning to feel dread building up inside her.

"What's going on Newt?" She hissed to the boy, who she had caught up to almost immediately.

"It's easier if you let me just show you this, okay? I was supposed to do this before the tour, yesterday, but I thought you were a little too shaken up."

He was walking alongside the wall now, but stopped suddenly. Florence stopped herself bumping into the boy as he reached out to a patch of ivy on the wall and dug his hands through it.

Parting it, the ivy seemed to have been covering a dusty square window, which was almost blacked out entirely. Florence still didn't understand what was going on, but remained silent.

"Wait for a moment. Something'll happen." He murmured quietly, his eyes fixed on the window. She stood by his side, studying his face, and then turned to the window herself which remained black.

It stayed like this for a few minutes, Florence becoming impatient, but Newt staying completely still just waiting.

Suddenly a glow of light appeared in the window, lighting the view through it. She inched closer to the window slightly, peering through to make out what she already knew was on the other side.

A Griever.

An enormous blob of a creature was crawling up the corridor of the Maze they were staring into. It had mechanical legs sticking out from it, giant metal weapons that were cutting into the ground as it scuttled along the floor.

If a snail and a spider had a baby, and then it got mutated and weaponised, it would look like this.

It began to climb a wall and then without warning, launched itself at the window. Florence couldn't help but jump back, a small yell of surprise escaping her mouth.

But her curiosity grew, and she reminded herself they were safe in here. She crept back towards the window, aware of Newt's eyes on her as she watched the Griever.

The creature couldn't possibly have been natural, Florence realised, as she noticed the instruments that were sticking out from the animal-like, robotic-like arms; shears, a saw blade, long rods.

Its body seemed slimy and gooey, Florence feeling sick as she continued to watch it. It knew they were both watching in fact, as it shrieked and clawed at the window, wanting to make its way to them.

"They seem friendly." She mumbled, under her breath almost, but Newt caught it somehow.

"And that's why we don't go out there. You get it?" She eyed the boy, taking in his expression. Somehow, the grotesque creature hadn't scared her once she had gotten passed the initial shock, and her thoughts of becoming a Runner returned to her.

"Yeah I get it. But the Runners go out, right?"

Newt had let go of the ivy, the window covered up again as the Glade begun to spring into another day of action.

"Well yes but-"

"-Minho can't run today. What does that mean?"

Inside, Newt was growing irritated at the girl's questions about the Runners. No one wanted to be a Runner. Why was she so interested?

"Well there's a few 'round here that'll step in if someone can't run." He shrugged nonchalantly, not wanting to provoke more questions from the girl.

"Why can't I do that?" Newt felt the frustration in her voice, but his heart ached more. This girl was his friend, and he felt like he couldn't let more of his friends go out into the Maze.

"Florence-"

"-No don't give me anymore of your stupid excuses I'm sick of it!" Her temper had taken control, and she felt herself slipping into rage as she shouted at the boy.

"You all think I'm inferior just because I'm a girl. How the hell would you know what I can and can't handle? I bet I can run faster than any of the boys in here. You saw it on that first day! What is it gonna take for you to realise that?"

Newt was silent. As much as he didn't want the girl to be a Runner, he knew that they all felt differently because she was a girl. And she wasn't inferior.

"How about a race?" Another voice came from a few feet away, and they both jumped. Ben was getting ready to run, and as the pair were stood in front of the entrance to the Maze, he had naturally been making his way over.

"What?" Newt found himself questioning the boy, and at the same time trying to silently signal to get him to drop the idea and not excite the girl; but it was too late.

"Get together the fastest boys in the Glade and Flo can run against them. If she beats them then we should at least consider her for Runner." Ben explained out his idea, and Newt facepalmed, knowing there would be no way of stopping the girl from jumping on it.

"Aren't the fastest boys the Runners?" She asked, trying to keep herself calm on the outside, despite her thumping heart.

Ben's giving me a chance.

"Minho's the fastest by far but obviously he can't run. I'm sure the others would be up for a race. I know I am." He said simply, and now Newt was glaring right at the boy.

There was no avoiding this now. All Newt could do was hope the girl would lose.

Florence could barely keep her thoughts together all of that day. News of the race they had planned spread through the Glade like wildfire, and at about midday, it reached Minho - somehow - who was lounging around in bed.

But of course, he hobbled out of his bed and into the Med-jack's room looking for the girl.

"You want to be a Runner?!" His voice was raised questioningly and threateningly as he addressed the girl, leant against the door frame to ease his struggles. His crutches were nowhere in sight - and knowing Minho - they were probably stranded in a bush.

"Why does everyone have a shucking problem with that?" Florence found herself glaring at the boy, and Clint and Jeff shared an uncomfortable look as they watched the pair stare at one another.

"Uh Greenie? You can take your lunch break now." Clint told the girl, turning away to remove himself from the tense situation.

She strode past Minho and out onto the courtyard, his tone having worked her up into another rage. She whirled around, remembering he wouldn't be able to keep up, and waited as he caught up.

"I am so sick of everyone in this place not wanting me to do anything. You can't expect me to call this place home if no one gives me a fair chance."

She was done with it now. She dropped herself onto the grass with a frustrated groan, wanting to cry, but feeling empty of tears. Instead, she laughed dryly, looking up to the boy who was just watching her in silence.

"I'm sick of it."

He still said nothing. Florence was starting to get rather tired of his silence now, but chose to reverse it on the boy instead of raising it.

He limped over to the girl, and carefully sat down beside her, extending his legs out as he flopped down onto his back.

"I was actually going to say it's a great idea."

Oh.

Florence felt her cheeks flood with colour in her embarrassment. She assumed the boy would just disagree with her choice, like almost everyone else, and snapped prematurely.

God, I'm stupid.

"Shuck. Minho I-"

"-It's all good princess. You've had all that klunk from Newt right?"

She let out a harsh chuckle and laid down beside the boy, her hands grazing the soft grass. She peered through the path of tree branches in her view and focused on the rich blue background of the sky.

"Yep. It just annoys me that no one seems to think I'm good enough for it." The boy tilted his head to look at the girl, her face lighted by the bright sky and her eyes fluttering closed to fully take in the peacefulness of laying in the Glade.

"I don't think that's it." He commented, looking back up to the trees swaying in the slightest above the two of them.

Her eyes reopened and this time she tilted her head to look at the boy. He always seemed so calm, Florence realised, and this was no different.

Minho was brushing his fingers along the blades of grass and his jawline looked as though it were sharp enough to cut it.

"What do you think then?"

He cracked a smile at the girl's curiosity, and darted his eyes to her, meeting her just as curious eyes.

"I don't know about Newt, but I reckon some of these boys are scared you'd do the job better than them. They're worried you're too good for it."

"Oh shut up Minho." Florence took the boy's comment as sarcasm, which was usual for Minho, but this was one of the few times he was being serious.

"What? I just said something nice!" He could tell the girl was annoyed, but couldn't help but laugh at her sudden anger at him.

This only made it worse of course.

"I really thought you were going to say something serious then, and you've just gone and turned into a right slinthead again, why am I surprised?"

"No I'm actually being serious. I imagine that they don't really wanna be shown up by a girl." She glared at him, but his neutral expression didn't change.

That stupid neutral expression. Can't he convey emotion at all?

Ugh, who am I kidding? He looks hot.

"You reckon I would beat them though?" Her voice was low and quiet, as if she didn't want him to really know how she was feeling about it.

"Oh yeah. If you knocking me over on your first day told me anything it's that you can run."

Florence laughed for real that time, and her fingers brushed accidentally against Minho's. The sudden contact sent a shiver down her spine and caused her cheeks to grow hot, but as the pair returned to a comfortable quiet, she didn't move her hand away.

Instead, she found their index fingers linking together.

That night, Florence prepared herself for the race. It was much more than just friendly competition to her; unlike the boys she was running against. There was something in it for her, something she could win, but for the boys there would be no difference.

She had returned to the clothes she had come up to the Box in, and although they had been washed, she couldn't wait for the clothes she would be sent up in the next supplies delivery.

The clothes she was wearing weren't exactly running clothes. Her top was made of thick material and her leggings not the most breathable either. But the clothes Minho had given to her were even less ideal, and the boys would only tease her for it.

When she made her way out of the Homestead, the first thing that hit her was the chatter. She couldn't pick out individual words over the general mess of conversation.

The boys were all grouped around two areas. The first was the place marked clearly as the start, a wooden stick with a plank nailed to it reading the word 'start' in white paint.

The second was the finish line, two boys she couldn't recognise holding a long piece of string that was substituted as the ribbon runners strew along with them when finishing a race in first place.

Nerves were beginning to bubble up inside Florence, she knew how much this meant to her already, but the atmosphere of all the people watching her was overwhelming. She could make out Newt, Minho and Alby stood at the finish line, and tried to push away the thoughts of Newt and Alby's disapproving expressions.

Joining the line of boys getting ready to run, Florence looked down to the other side of the Glade where she had to run. It was a fairly straight path, leading from just outside the Homestead and stretching across the Glade to the entrance of the Deadheads.

It would make more sense for it to be a full lap of the Glade, but clearly the boys don't have the brains or the attention span for that.

"How are you feeling?" Ben stood himself beside the girl, looking rather calm, collected and unbothered by the whole ordeal.

"Fine." She replied, not wanting to seem weak in front of one of her competitors. It was important to her to seem strong through all of this.

"I want you to win this. I think you'd be good as a Runner." Florence remained quiet, barely able to hide her appreciation for the boy's belief in her.

"Don't think I'm gonna let you win though."

"I'd kill you if you did."

Their conversation was interrupted by Gally declaring that if the race didn't start in the next few minutes, he was leaving.

This wouldn't be the worst thing, Florence thought, but she also wanted to get it over with.

She stood on the start line, feeling her heartbeat in her ears, blocking out the noise of the rowdy crowds watching her and the others. The eight boys alongside her all seemed confident in their own abilities, and if Florence couldn't keep up, this would be excruciatingly embarrassing.

"Go!" The roar of the word echoed through her mind, but her body leapt into action and had taken off in a sprint.

Her legs moved as though her life depended on it, her feet pattering on the ground and propelling her forwards with each stride. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, Florence knew she had to run faster than she ever had before in her life.

She was keeping up with the boys she was racing, her breath ragged and her lungs burning for oxygen, but it wasn't good enough.

She was in line with them. She needed to be in front.

Finding whatever energy was hidden away inside of her, she moved even faster and put herself ahead of the boys.

She had proved them all wrong, she was just as fast as them.

The finish line was ten feet from her now, and the only person with a chance of pulling ahead was Ben. The boy seemed like he wasn't even breaking a sweat, remaining on the girl's heels no matter how fast she ran.

The trees were just a blur now, the Maze walls closing just background noise. Everything, and everyone was focused on the two bolting across the Glade.

I need the chance to be a Runner.

Florence told herself, and that was all it took for her to increase her speed just enough to cross the finish line with time to spare between her and the Runner. 

The boys holding the string 'ribbon' released it, and Florence slowed to a stop, letting her legs give way almost immediately. She fell into the grass, flipping herself over and catching her breath.

I won.

The boys crowded around the girl in awe; some demanding the Runners were tired from a day in the Maze and it was unfair, and others calling for Florence to be made a Runner. A hand reached out for Florence to take, and having had caught her breath, she took it. She came face to face with Newt, who as expected, didn't look exactly pleased.

"Well you won. So there's nothing stopping you from at least trying out for Runner." He didn't sound defeated but instead worried.

He was worried about the fact the girl wasn't deterred by the Griever she saw in the morning, and about how she'd react if she saw one in the Maze. She didn't seem scared. Would she even run from it?

It was a stupid question in Newt's mind, but he couldn't think straight.

"Seriously?" But the girl's expression was so lit up with joy, and her delighted smile was infectious, so Newt couldn't hide his own.

"Seriously."

Florence was greeted by congratulations from the boys watching in the crowds, and she thanked them with a shy smile as her eyes wandered around them all. Minho had a wide smirk plastered on his face as he approached the girl.

"I knew you could do it."

The girl chose not to respond but to instead throw her arms around the boy. Minho in response placed his hands on the girl's back, chuckling.

Her arms were secured tightly around his neck and her breath breezed against his neck as his head rested on her shoulder.

It only lasted a few seconds. Then Florence had pulled away and engaged in conversation with Ben about what her potential role as a Runner would include.

Minho watched the girl for a moment, her eyes bright with excitement as Ben chattered away.

"What do you reckon about this then?" Alby asked him, joining his side, and Minho didn't take his eyes from the still exhilarated girl.

His eyes were shining as he watched the girl fondly. He adored her, and as much as he was nervous about letting the girl in the Maze, he knew that;

"She's gonna make a shucking great Runner."