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Stephen, Stephen, Stephen. My name is Stephen.
Before he passed out, Thomas looked at Teresa again, their eyes meeting for just a few precious seconds. The world had already started to blur when they dragged her away, but he clearly heard what she called out to him. “Someday we’ll be bigger.”
“Tommy?”
The first time newt called thomas tommy, they were so young too
“This is spooky,” Minho spoke quietly, though it seemed loud in the still darkness. “Alby, hold my hand.” “Dude, chill” was Alby’s response.
And sometimes little Chuck. He’d become their favorite. He was goofy, innocent, and gullible, and he took all their jokes in stride. He’d become like the little brother they’d lost or, in Thomas’s case, never had in the first place.
“I guess we have different philosophies,” he said. “If you don’t get it, you don’t get it. You don’t take away my freedom without asking first.”
we’ve decided to shorten the Maze Trials from five years to two.
Siggy, aka Frypan, had been named Toby by his parents.
Thomas enjoyed it when he could, enjoyed the feel of snow on his face, the tingle of icy cold on his nose and fingertips. It felt like a way of spitting in the sun flares’ face. See? I’m cold. Now go suck it.
Everything about WICKED had worn him to the bone, hardened his heart.
He found himself thinking of Newt, maybe the one he liked most of all of them, not immune.
Something grew hard deep inside Thomas’s chest. For now, he had to go along with whatever WICKED wanted of him. But that wouldn’t always be the case.
