T R U S T [The Maze Runner || Newt || Book 2]

Chapter 17

The group stood in front of an old truck that had two large buffalo horns attached to the front of it, slightly dumbfounded.

"She's not just a car, hermano. She's the best car, she's a travel companion, she's a beast on the road." Jorge beamed, patting the hood of the car, admiring it.

"I get shotgun," Newt muttered, quickly opening the door to the passenger seat and sitting down everyone else piled inside the car. There were two back sections to it, Clara, Frypan, Aris, and Theodore sat in the first row while Brenda, Teresa, Thomas, and Minho in the second row. It was a squeeze but everyone managed to get inside, preparing for the journey.

Jorge turned the key and the engine roared to life, sputtering slightly, but staying on. Before he drove off he turned to face everyone,

"Alright. The mountains are 2 days away, we're gonna get as far as we can today and stop somewhere for the night, got it?"

Everyone nodded and Jorge turned back around, putting the car in gear and rolling out of the building it was parked in, driving out of the city.

The drive was, comforting in a sense. They filled the silence with stupid conversations, petty arguments breaking over the smallest things, ending in fits of laughter. At some point, almost everybody fell asleep. Clara's head was resting on Frypan's shoulder and his own head was resting on hers. She could hear his soft snores, and the sound of Jorge quietly humming to himself as he drove.

As the sun started to set, Jorge veered off-road and drove into a thick forest, looking for a place to stop for the night. He didn't want to risk driving into an ambush during the night, especially considering Bertha's headlights didn't turn on. 

They came to a stop in the middle of the forest and he turned the engine off, parking the car between two large pine trees as everyone slipped out of it, stretching their limbs. Aris and Thomas went off to get some wood for a fire while everyone else walked into a small clearing, setting down their packs and eating whatever food they had. When the other boys came back they threw the wood in a small pile, Jorge lighting it up and starting a small fire.

Clara sat further away from the rest of the group, leaning up against a tree and fiddling with the ivy bracelet on her wrist, her eyes closed. She heard footsteps approaching her and opened one eye, scoffing when she saw Newt standing in front of her,

"Hey," He mumbled,

"What? Gonna call me selfish again?"

"Okay, guess I deserve that one." He sighed, sitting down next to her, crossing his legs underneath him, "I'm sorry, you- you were right."

"Sorry, what was that? Didn't quite catch it, say it again?" She joked, holding a hand up to her ear and leaning closer to him,

"Alright, alright, I get it. But I really am sorry, I was the one being selfish, not you."

"It's okay, I understand why you were angry. Kind of." They both chuckled softly, and a comfortable silence settled over them for a few seconds, "I don't regret it by the way."

"Huh?"

"You asked me last night if I regretted us. I don't. I regret a lot of things in my life, you're not one of them."

He smiled in response, looking at her and chuckling softly,

"What?" She questioned,

"It felt... familiar, almost comforting. Our fight. Felt like we were back in the glade."

"Yeah, I suppose it did." She said, laughing with him quietly before she spoke up again, "Hey, what changed so quickly, Newt? When you were angry at me, that first night? You didn't bring up me sacrificing myself before. And you certainly didn't seem angry when you kissed me at Wicked."