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He was going to get stung by a Griever. Go through the Changing. On purpose.
Once this horrifying idea had found its way into Thomas’s mind, there was no way he could forget about it. It was probably the worst idea anyone had ever had around here. Thomas didn’t need to spend two years with the other Gladers to know that. About two weeks had been enough to learn that the Grievers, and the effects of their attack, were what these boys feared most; even more so than the thought of never finding a way out of this place.
Thomas sat in his southwest corner of the Glade, hidden away from everyone by the dense forest; which, so far, had worked every single time. No one usually chose to enjoy a stroll across the Deadheads.
He tried to sleep, he really did, but his thoughts kept turning back to what was bound to happen that night and the multitude of ways it might go wrong. The boy had once again closed his eyes, hiding his face into his pulled up legs, when he heard someone approaching. The person came closer, appeared to be pacing in front of him, then stood still. Then he sighed.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually asleep.”
Hearing that voice, Thomas finally opened his eyes to look up at Minho. “What if I was?”
Minho didn’t answer, instead kicked Thomas’s foot. “Care if I join you?”
“Sure.” Thomas edged closer to the wall, despite the ample space next to him.
His legs pulled up, Minho sat back against the wall and looked out into the forest. And despite said ample space, Minho’s shoulder brushed against Thomas’s as they sat in silence.
Thomas didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even know why Minho had sought him out, not after the way he’d stomped off once they’d returned to the Glade.
So he was grateful when Minho broke the silence. “I’m sorry.”
Thomas glanced to the side to see Minho wringing his hands. The older boy looked like he wanted to say more, but he hesitated.
“It’s alright, Minho.”
“No, Thomas, it’s not.” He barked a nervous laugh. “I keep telling you and everyone here we can’t give up, that we’ll find a way out, and then I lose it after what’s just another let-down and start acting like a baby.” Minho caught Thomas’s eye for a moment. Then, he shook his head and looked down at his hands. “That’s not alright,” he added in a whisper.
Thomas wasn’t sure what he could say - what Minho wanted to hear - so he kept quiet. In the stillness of the forest, thought, his mind started searching for a response. Something, anything, that might cheer Minho up. Thomas knew they could both use it.
In the end, it was again Minho who spoke first. “So, you’re cool with leaving your girlfriend with Newt and those others shanks?”
Thomas rolled his eyes. “Teresa’s not my-”
Minho chuckled. “Yeah, I get it already. Now what could she possibly see in a shuck-face like you anyway, right?”
“What, are you jealous or something?”
“Dude, of course I’m not shuckin’ jealous.”
“Well, good,” was all Thomas had to say.
The other boy bumped his shoulder into Thomas’s, earning first a glare, and then a grin from the younger Glader. Thomas decided then that he was grateful for Minho’s presence, not just here and now, but in the Glade in general. Grateful for one person who didn’t treat him like crap when he was just another Greenie, or even questioned his part in the Creators’ crazy games when he turned out to be more.
“I should get back, see what everyone’s up to. Check in with the other Runners.” Minho said with a definitive nod, suddenly all business again.
He stood up, then looked down to find Thomas still huddled up in his corner. “You staying here?”
Thomas nodded hesitantly.
Minho shook his head with a slight laugh, then reached out his hand which Thomas reluctantly took. With one strong pull, Thomas was on his feet and a split second later Minho’s arms were around him.
Before Thomas even realized what happened, he was hugging the boy back.
“Thank you,” Minho spoke softly. He squeezed Thomas tighter for just a moment, then let go and took a step back. “Make sure you’re back at the Homestead before night falls, alright?”
Thomas nodded. He watched Minho retreat into the forest, then break out into a sprint towards the open Glade. The boy let himself slide back down against the wall, pulling up his legs and hiding his face in his arms once more.