Chapter Text
“You’re kidding, right?” Thomas stared plainly at his ‘Boss’, a slide of pink parchment in his left hand and a can of beer in his right. “Come on, man. I didn’t drop out of High School just to be put back in.”
“You’re the only guy we have who’s young enough to actually be in High School.” The Boss hissed, spinning around in his broken desk chair, tapping his cigar against the edge of his silver ashtray. “You want the job or not, Johnny-boy?”
Thomas sneered in irritation. “Fine…fucking fine. Who’s the guy?”
“He’s the son of a retired drug dealer. Turned seventeen last month. He’s a student at Glader’s High. He’s a British kid, got more money than he knows what to do with.” The Boss took a single strain from his cigar, lazily reclining in his chair, crossing his legs in an indolent manner.
Thomas furrowed his brow. “Got a name?”
“Newt.”
Thomas almost scoffed. “Got a last name?”
“Nope.” The Boss cocked his brow, staring up at his youngest recruit that stood before his desk. “It’s Newt. His family lives of an alias, so there’s no point in me giving you all the fucking details.”
“How the hell do you expect me to find someone without even a fucking picture to follow?” Thomas exclaimed, waving away a cloud of smoke drifting from the man’s cigar.
“Look Cupcake, you’ll know him when you see him. He’s tall, go by the name Newt, got a British accent, blonde hair and brown eyes. He also sports a limp. Supposed to be kind of a nice guy. He’s about the same age as you, so, he’ll probably be in your class.” The Boss took a swig from his glass that sat upon the counter. “You start school tomorrow.”
“Jesus Christ.” Thomas grumbled beneath his breath. “This better be worth it, buddy.”
“Whatever, it isn’t my money anyways.”
“Who’s paying me?” Thomas questioned.
The Boss shrugged. “He’s a new customer. I haven’t seen him before. Didn’t get a name.”
Thomas smirked. “Alright. I’ll talk to you later, Boss.”
“Good on you, Lad. Good on you.”
…
Fuck it fuck it fuck it fuck it fuck-
Thomas slapped himself on the cheek. Out of all the places, it had to be a goddamn High School. Thomas watched in bitter melancholy as teens bustled into the swarming building. Upon the frame of the wide open door hung the words:
GLADER’S HIGH: WELCOME TO THE GLADE
Thomas had to mentally hold himself from turning back and calling quits. His family needed the money, and he needed this fucking job. He wasn’t going to lose his head over a bunch of fucking-
“Greenie, twelve o’clock!”
Within seconds, Thomas went from standing before the front of the building, to face flat against the gravel pavement. He groaned at the impact of his body against stone and curled into his own chest in an attempt to ease the pain.
“Ah, shuck, sorry Greenie.” Thomas looked up over his shoulder to see a dark skinned boy, maybe a year or so older than himself, knelt just beside him, skateboard tucked under his left arm. “Didn’t see you there.” The boy offered Thomas a hand up, which he took, letting the elder boy heave him to his feet. “You alright there? God, I’m so sorry. What you doing just standing out here, you shank!”
Without any further questioning, Thomas was hasty ushered into the building, as he let a sigh of frustration pass him by. The stranger marshaled him towards a side hall of blue lockers, letting the stream of teenagers flow down the hallway in a deafening ruckus.
“Don’t ever stand outside the doors, Greenie. Unless you want to get crushed by a herd of screaming teens, stay away from those doors.”
“Thanks for the advice.” Thomas huffed halfheartedly. “I haven’t been in school for a while.”
“Ah, sorry. Name’s Alby, Student Council President.” Alby shot him a sincere smile.
“Thomas.” He stated. Alby didn’t seem so bad, at least, so far.
“You from around here, Thomas?”
“No, not exactly.” Thomas shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling a little awkward.
“Ah, don’t worry about it, Greenie. The Glade can be a little terrifying at times, but you’ll get used to it.” Alby assured. “You want me to help you get to your classes?”
Thomas nodded thankfully, pulling a scrap of yellow print paper from his front jean pocket and handing it to Alby. The elder boy examined it over and smirked. “Hey, looks like you’re in my class, Thomas. Guess this should be relatively easy.”
With that, Alby turned his head round the corner of the hallway, and gestured for Thomas to follow, which he did. The two made their way towards class side by side. Just as it was starting to get a little awkward, Thomas decided to break the silence.
“Greenie, is that some sort of weird term you guys use here?” He questioned.
“Ah, sort of. The Greenies are the newcomers basically. Eh, you’ll catch onto it sooner or later.” Alby waved off the subject. “So, where you from, shank?”
“Here and there.” Thomas shrugged. He’d been given specific orders not to give away his ‘work’ or family’s location, so he usually just settled with the ‘We like to move around’ story. “My family and I are born travelers. We move every six months.”
“Damn, must get exhausting. I know I couldn’t do that.” Alby chuckled. “Well, you don’t seem like a total klunk-head, it’d be a shame for you to leave so soon.”
“Well, you got to do what you got to do.” Thomas said with a somewhat despondent expression. He’d never particularly liked his job. The only reason he kept at it was because he was fairly good at it...you know…killing people.
At that moment, a door down the hall shifted open, swinging against its hinges and hitting the wall with a great thud, before a young Asian boy with well built muscles and clean-cut hair stepped out, his arm hanging to the frame of the class door.
“Alby, can you hurry the shuck up? Teach’ is going to be here in like, five minutes.” The Asian grumbled, before taking a side-glance at Thomas. “Who’s the Greenie?”
“Minho, this is Thomas. He just joined today.” Alby informed, clapping Thomas on the shoulder.
“Huh…” Minho gave him the elevator eyes, before a smirk pulled at his lip. “Welcome to the Glade, Shank.” Before he disappeared back into the classroom.
“Minho’s captain of the Runners. He’s been part of the Track Team for about two years now.” Alby said, as the two of them made their way into the classroom.
The room was fairly packed with young students, several rows of desks lining every inch of the room, and a large blackboard displayed at the front of the room. Thomas instinctively scanned each and every one of the students in the room, trying to see if any of them fit Newt’s profile.
“Welcome to Hell.” Alby stated, causing Thomas to snap from his momentary distraction. “I’m kidding.” Alby chortled, though Thomas wasn’t entirely convinced.
The two of them made their way towards the back of the class. Minho had sat himself next to a young girl with dark brown hair, a chubby boy with curls, a dark skinned boy wearing a tattered apron, and a boy with beefy arms and short-cut blonde hair.
“Thomas, these guys are Teresa, Chuck, Frypan and Gally.”
Thomas nodded and gave a slight smile. “Hey.”
“Looks like a shank.” Gally stated with a boyish grin.
“He is a shank.” Minho confirmed, taking a bite of his red apple.
“Could be worse though. I mean, obviously not the sharpest knife in the box, but still, could be worse.” Gally murmured. Thomas felt a tinge of discomfort towards the boy.
“You look familiar.” Teresa stated, tilting her head to her left as she eyed the Greenie.
“I don’t think we’ve met before.” Thomas stated, scratching the back of his head.
“You sure? Have you ever been on TV? I swear I’ve seen your face before.” Teresa hummed, tapping the bottom of her chin.
“Ah, don’t mind her.” Frypan said. “She’s kind of crazy. First day in the Glade, started throwing books at us.”
“Hey!” Teresa slapped Frypan on his arm to get him to shut up. Thomas couldn’t hold back a laugh.
He then noticed Chuck, who seemed a lot younger than the rest of the group, and a little out of place within a crowd of grown teens. “Chuck, right?”
“Yeah, and I know what you’re thinking.” Chuck sighed, scratching the side of his nose. “I skipped a lot of grades.”
“This kid’s smarter than he looks.” Minho stated.
“No kidding.” Thomas smirked. “Must be pretty brave to join a class of big kids.”
“Well, didn’t exactly get a choice.” Chuck admitted, though seemingly already taking a liking to the new Greenie. “But thanks anyway.”
“Hey, anyone seen Newt yet?” Alby questioned, which caused Thomas to practically jump from his skin, though he tried his best to keep his interest at bay.
“I saw him at the lockers, said he’d be down later.” Teresa said, stealing a bite from Minho’s apple.
Thomas felt his heart begin to quicken in pace. Finally, he’d get his target. Once he knew who he was after, it wouldn’t be too long until he had him eliminated. He just had to decide how he was going to deliver his kill. Poison would be expensive, though, if it ever came down to it he could always steal a vile from the Boss. There was the simple gun-to-the-head method, but that’d be too messy, and way too conspicuous. He needed a clean kill. He’d have to get his target alone, maybe even build a trust, before making his move.
“Hey, earth to Greenie.” Alby snapped his fingers in front of Thomas’ blank expression. Thomas blinked his eyes back to reality and cursed beneath his breath. “You alright there, mate?”
“Yeah, sorry.” Thomas cleared his throat and took a seat at the end of the row.
They were about ten minutes into the lesson, and Thomas was on the verge of falling asleep. He couldn’t take this shit. Like, a day of it, he could probably pull through, but he hadn’t a clue how long this job was going to last. It could be weeks, even months. He’d already got enough shit going on in his last assignment. The Boss had promised him a break, and yet, the torture continued. Overtime was practically his life.
It was then that the Teacher was interrupted by the opening of the front door, followed by an abrupt clearing of the throat and a rough “Sorry I’m late, Miss.” in a strong British accent. The teacher merely glared and motioned for the newcomer to take a seat. Thomas eyed with great curiosity, as the boy walked in through the class.
Jackpot.
The boy was tall, but probably not as tall as Thomas, with a fairly slender frame, dark brown eyes and soft blonde hair. He walked with a hint of a limp and carried multiple stacks of papers in his left arm.
He took a seat between Alby and Thomas, and let a huff escape his lips as he dumped his stuff beside him. “What took you so long?” Alby questioned.
“Half of my stuff went missing.” Newt explained, and Thomas could hardly believe that he was only carrying half of his belongings.
Newt turned his head and noticed the unfamiliar face sat beside him. He gave a sweet welcoming smile, that Thomas had to admit was not expecting.
“You didn’t tell me we were getting a Greenie today, Alby.” Newt said.
“Didn’t know he was even coming. He just sort of appeared.” Alby said with a lighthearted chuckle.
“Well, it’s always nice to have something new to see.” Newt held his hand out for Thomas to shake. “Name’s Newt. Pleased to meet you.”
Thomas took the hand, returning the smile to the best of his ability. “Thomas.”
“Guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of you then, Thomas?” Newt questioned, a friendly smirk gracing his lips.
He’d noticed Newt’s skin to be surprisingly soft to the touch, and pleasantly warm. Not what he’d expect from the son of a druggie. In fact, he’d been the exact opposite of what Thomas had imagined. His voice was calm and soft, yet firm and orderly. His features were so picturesque, almost angelic. So much so that Thomas momentarily forgot what he’d come here to do.
“Yeah, I hope so.” Thomas replied.