𝟐. 𝐁𝐀𝐃 π†πˆπ‘π‹π’

Previously Titled: Rules (Are Made To Be Broken Obvi) & Dollar Store Weasley Is A Bitch Towards Y/N

"Ow!"

Shit that hurts!

To my luck, my body had at least managed to fall onto one of the soft beds of grass in that strange place I had so mysteriously arrived in. Besides a knee scratched by ticklish blades, I was fine.

"You alright?" Newt had turned around and stuck his hand out to help me up. I took it and was placed back on two feet.

"I'm fine," I grumbled. "Stupid ankles, always tripping on things." Newt gave me a grin as we trodded along, heading to a forest filled with lush green trees all clumped together.

"Don't know too much about ankles but I do have a pretty nasty limp," He sighed, sidestepping around a log.

Glimpsing at his legs as we strolled, I realized he was right. I hadn't even noticed before, but he had a bit of a hobble to his walk.

"Does it hurt?" I questioned, deep in my perplexed state.

Newt turned his head towards me. "A bit." He glanced down and gestured at his leg. "Not as much anymore."

I examined his leg for an unusually long time before blurting, "How'd it happen?" He stopped abruptly. His face had lost all its warmth. Newt's lopsided grin had disappeared. He stared at me and I could see something in his eyes. Pain. I broke our shared gaze quickly. My head had started to hurt from peering at his eyes, which I could say were windows to his soul. "I'm sorry." The words fell out of my mouth. "I didn't mean to pry."

"It's okay. You didn't do anythin'. It's just a story for another time." Newt cleared his throat, Adam's apple bobbing. "Anyways, here we are, Greenie. Why don't you take a seat?" He gestured at a fat tree trunk that had fallen over. It was carpeted in soft moss. We sat in silence before Newt prodded toward conversation. Well, I would say it was more like the start of a friendly interrogation. "Do you remember anythin'? Anythin' at all?"

No.

It was so strange but I just couldn't. My mind felt like an inky ocean and I was drowning in it, reaching out for memories to save me that never seemed to come.

My face gradually became hotter. I dug my nails into the palms of my hand.

Oh no,
it's coming up.

A tightening began to cramp my chest.

Don't cry.
Don't cry.
Don't cry.
Oh, fuck.

"Shit, I'm sorry," I mumbled, wiping a few stray tears away. Glancing up at Newt and his wide eyes, I saw him play idly with his hands.

"H-Hey, don't feel-" The boy looked down, pausing. "Sorry, Greenie, I'm not very good with crying and such." He placed a tepid hand on my shoulder and patted it. We sat there in silence for a few minutes.

What the fuck is a greenie?

"I can remember the oddest things, scary stories, movie theaters, old celebrities. But not who told me those stories or took me to places." I trailed off. "I can't even remember my own name." Pausing when my voice began to break, I knuckled at my wet eyes. "That's shitty."

"Yeah," He agreed, pulling his hand back and resting it on his thigh. "It is pretty shitty but hey, at least you're not the only one."

"I'm not?"

"You're not. We all can't remember who we were before the box. The only thing we all remember is our names"

"And here I was feeling special." I joked, laughing bitterly at my sarcasm.

"Y'know if it makes you feel any better you probably do win the award for having the most excitin' arrival."

"I take it you liked my little knife trick?" A grin crept up my lips and I thumbed the wooden handle of my sweet blade.

"I sort of did. I never thought someone would put Gally in his place..." He shook his head, smirking. "And I never thought it would be a small girl greenie."

I took my knife out from my belt and pointed it toward Newt. "Hey. You better watch yourself, Lizard boy. I've done things." Narrowing my eyes, I menacingly teased, "Terrible things."

"Don't slice me Shebean. Have mercy!" Newt kidded around, raising his hands. I stabbed the log we sat on so the knife stood proudly on its own. His laughs pattered off. "Okay. Well, your name will come back to you in a day or two. It always does. Don't-"

"What if mine doesn't?"

Interruption at its finest,
God, I should really work on that.

"Then you'll hold the glades record for the longest time without a name." He pointed at the blade I held, pulling a goofy face. "Or we'll call you knife girl."

"I'm fine with either option."

Tossing my head back, I peered at the sky. It was so clear, so blue. It was practically the bluest I had ever seen, looking like artificial cotton candy.

"Good. Every month the box brings up a new greenie. It's always been a boy until you."

"Wow, geez, I'm honored." My face wrinkled from derision. "What does that mean? Why did they send me?"

"I have no idea what it means or why you're here." Newt sighed, picking at the moss on our log and rolling it between his fingers. "Everyone else is wonderin' the same thing though. It's not so bad here though Greenie. We really only have three rules. You have to do your part, you can't harm other gladers-"

Can't harm?
Fuck that.

"Well, that's bullshit. What if-"

Newt spoke over me, cutting me off. "Look, I know things are different for you. You're the only girl. Alby and I will do whatever it takes to make you feel comfortable." He fiddled with his overshirt before placing a palm on the center of his chest. "Well, at least I will. I can't speak for cranky Alby."

Newt's nice and all
but there is no way
I'm not beating the shit
out of anyone who lays a finger on me.

"Sure."

"We're goin' to have a meetin' about that stuff later." Jabbing his thumb toward the way we came, he asked, "Did you get a look at those openings in between the walls of the glade?"

"Yeah, I saw them."

"Well, the last and most important rule is to never ever go out of them. They're doors. They close at night. Which means if ya get stuck out there in the dark you're never comin' back alive."

"What's out there? Some sort of killer rager or something?"

I humored myself by thinking of red solo cups, shitty booze, and balloons.

Ha ha,
death party.

"Yeah, let's go with or somethin'." Newt looked me dead in the eye, his jaw clenching. "It's wack out there." I dismissed him, rolling my eyes at his secretiveness.

He's a real gossipy tease,
worse than a middle school girl.
What's so bad that I can't know?

"Good, good." Feigning sincerity, the smile I carried dropped from my face. "Hey, now next time you think you could try being vaguer?"

"Hey, you guys!" We were interrupted by a boy huffing and puffing toward us. The boy finally came to a stop, closing the distance. He found his way to the ground, falling into the plush grass. After the nameless boy caught his breath he spoke. "Newt, Alby wants you and the girl greenie in the homestead for a keeper meeting now."

Now, who are you?

This boy was no more than twelve or thirteen. He had bright flushed cherub cheeks, he was chubby, and puberty hadn't grasped him in its hold yet. His eyes were a sweet dark brown shining with excitement. Personally, my favorite part about him was his hair. It was floppy and filled with soft baby curls.

"Good that. I guess that's our cue to leave then, Greenie, but before we go, this is Chuck. He was the greenie before you." Newt introduced us, tipping his chin down at the kid. "He'll be showin' you around tomorrow."

I stuck my hand out to Chuck. It was the proper thing to do. The nice thing.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting around. But then, as if a switch had been flipped, he straightened up, letting confidence overtake him.

"Hello." He enunciated, gripping my hand and shaking it, strong and well.

"Nice handshake kid," I smirked and dug my fingers into his curls, ruffling his hair before ambling off with Newt.

"Thanks!" Chuck piped up in the distance.

Oh, what a sweetsie little thing.

...

We stood on the wooden stairs of what Newt called the Homestead. It was a tall towering building that was once an old house. Then somebody had decided to staple rooms onto random places, making it look like a carnival attraction. I brushed my fingers on the railing's sun-faded wood.

Hmm,
I wonder when the paint started to chip off?

Newt put his hand on the lopsided door's rusty handle, turning the knob, which caused the door to creak loudly.

"After you." He said, holding the door out for me. I stepped forward into the shack, allowing the scent of sawdust to tickle my nose.

I guess it's now or never.

The next thing I knew I found myself sitting in a stiff and very uncomfortable wooden chair with twelve boys staring at me. All but one chair was filled.

They sat around me in a semi-circle muttering offhandedly to each other while shooting me glances. Two of the chairs were a bit separated from the rest. An older boy whose face was set in a permanent scowl sat in one of them and Newt rested himself in the chair beside him.

Scowl-face stamped the left boot he wore against the wooden floors, demanding our attention.

THUMP THUMP THUMP

"Alright you shanks, I Alby, officially call this gathering to order." This was the grumpy Alby I had heard about in passing. He held a pencil in his left hand and a notepad in his right, ready to take notes. "The purpose of this gathering is to discuss the new green bean or-" Alby squinted his eyes at me, correcting himself unprompted. "Shebean's arrival and what exactly we're gonna to do with slintheads who decide to get funny with them. Zart," Alby called on the boy with blond hair from earlier. It was still askew. He lifted his head out of his daydream world, eyes big, making him look completely out of place. "Shoot."

Zart moved awkwardly in his seat, all hunched over. While waiting for him to talk, I shifted around in my own juvenile fashion, placing one foot on the chair and leaving the other on the ground.

Shy thing, aren't you?
That why you can't say anything?

"Oh. Um well." Nervously, he finally got to speak. My eyes blurred with boredom. Instead of listening, I tuned him out and focused on picking out his distinct features. It became a sort of game.

"Small scar on your jaw, short, stocky," I listed with an impressively low volume, my lips barely moving. Newt had told me I wasn't allowed to talk till the end, a dictator-like rule.

β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”
-Bad Girls by M.I.A.-
⇆ㅀ ||β—γ…€βšβšγ…€β–·||γ…€ ↻
β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”

Bullshit.
I'll talk when I want.

The only problem was that there wasn't anything interesting to say in the first place. I scanned the rest of the boys in the homestead until my eyes found someone familiar.

Shit!

It was Gally. My gaze fell lower till it found his upper right arm. I could feel my breathing quicken.

That's where I cut him.

He hadn't gotten around to changing his sliced shirt and I could see a white bandage peeking through the tattered cloth. I moved my eyes back up to his face where I found Gally staring daggers into me.

Oh fuck,
shit.

I flipped them away as fast as they could back to Zart.

"So yeah," Zart contended, his hands clasped together in his lap. "I think that if someone keeps bothering them, saying things and they've told him to stop, it should be like half a day in the pit an-"

"Well, that's stupid." A redheaded boy cut him off. The stranger laughed, crows feet forming around his eyes. "Since when is flirting a crime? I mean what are we gonna do, throw every kid in the slammer for giving them a compliment? It's not our fault they look so good." He threw his head back cockily, running a hand through his fiery crop of hair. "What's the harm?"

Immediate ick.

I let out a loud laugh. One that was a little too loud. Everyone sharply cracked their heads toward me.

"What? Sorry, that has to be the funniest thing I've heard all day." Consumed by snickering, I had to stifle myself with a palm over my mouth. "In fact, I don't know what's funnier, that thing you call your face or the fact that you think that I'd ever want you."

The boy was slack-jawed and his face was slowly becoming a darker and darker shade of red to match his hair.

"Last time I checked, no one asked for your opinion, Sweetheart." He challenged, crossing his arms over his torso. "Now why don't you just sit back and quit with the bitchy attitude."

Fire licked my insides. I smirked and leaned toward him. "I, don't, quit, anything. Got any more insults, Bird Legs? Please, keep 'em coming, for my sake."

The boy was fish-faced, gaping at me. His complexion had grown to a tomato color. He shot up from his chair, starting towards me.

"Hey slim it! Both of you!" Alby shouted, raising a closed fist to the air. From the room's reaction, I was pretty sure that meant, you're finished, shut the fuck up while you can. The boy reluctantly sat down, fuming at the ears. The meeting continued as they discussed punishments in further detail. The group never seemed to stop talking and I was getting antsy. I had fidgeted around in my chair so much that it had moved a half foot. Unable to take silence any longer, I raised my hand. Alby spotted me and permitted me to join briefly. "Yes, Greenie?"

"Where am I like gonna shower and stuff?" I gestured toward the skeezy guy from earlier. "Because wherever it is, I want it to be as far away from this creep as possible."

"The showers are attached to the homestead. They're kind of like a locker room but with stalls." Explained Alby, tapping the pencil he held against his notebook. "We can set a time for you to shower and we'll assign someone to keep any slintheads out while you wash up."

Seems alright.

"Oh, okay then."

"We have a bonfire tonight for your arrival." Alby rolled his eyes, motioning toward an olive-toned boy. "Tomorrow you'll be working with Winston here in the blood house."

Winston raised his hand to give me a small wave and I returned one back to him. "Mmmh blood house...sounds like fun." As I hummed I relaxed back in my seat.

"Well then, if no one has anything to add except for the greenie's sarcasm, that concludes our meeting," Grumbled Alby, folding his arms together and sitting back in his chair.

The boys stood up and started shuffling out of the room but I crossed my ankles and stayed in my seat, staring at the grains of wood that streaked across the floor. They made the strangest patterns.

Look, there's a cloud and that kind of looks like a dog

I thought I was alone until I heard Newt's voice. "We have about an hour till bonfire." His work boots were in my line of sight, dirt from the soles crumbling off. "You can go find Chuck if you want, promise he'll give you the whole tour."

Waiting until he left, I then decided to stand up from my chair. After stretching, I strolled over to the staircase. It looked like the boys had built it themselves based on the way planks were jacked out of place. Carefully, I stepped onto them and trailed my fingers across the peeling wallpaper, climbing the stairs one by one until I reached the top.

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