BlackJack

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The sound of my boots hitting the cement floor echoes with each step. I count my steps as I pace back and forth. 2,983. 2,984. 2,985... "Shit," I mutter aloud unknowingly.

"What's wrong?" Brenda questions from where she is sitting across the room on an old crate, watching me pace back and forth for the last half hour. I am slightly confused at first before realizing that I had spoken aloud.

"I lost track," I explain to which Brenda slowly nods, trying to process what I am implying.

Brenda huffs, unable to understand what I am getting at. "Lost track of what?"

"My steps." Brenda lets out a laugh at the answer.

"You're telling me that you have been tracking your steps as you paced back and forth for the last half hour?" I nod sheepishly. "Fin! Why?" Brenda asks exasperatedly. "I mean, why are you so stressed out."

"Maybe I am stressed out because of the fact that Thomas and Newt went with Gally into a sewer to break into the last city. The city in which my mom is in. Who also basically wants us alive or dead."

"I can see how that is stressing you out," Brenda nods thoughtfully. "You know what?" Brenda hops down from the crate and approaches where I stand. I shrug, waiting for Brenda to continue speaking. "I think you should hold off on stressing out so you can rest."

"That is a great idea, Bren! I'll just stop my body's natural emotions and go take a cat nap!" I flail my arms in the air. The sound of a chuckle from the corner of the room breaks up the conversation between Brenda and I. The two of us turn around to face Frypan and Jorge. The two are sitting at an old wooden table, playing cards with only the light of an old candle that has wax dripping down all sides and onto a small glass dish that is dirtier than the ground itself. "What are you two laughing about, huh?" Brenda and I say in unison.

"Nothing," Jorge shakes his head. "Come on, let's play a game of blackjack while we wait for the boys to get back. It'll help pass the time." Jorge hands the deck of cards to Frypan who begins to shuffle. Brenda shrugs her shoulders, taking note that there really is not anything better that she could be doing at that moment. She moved to take a seat on the closest side of the table, picking up the hand of cards Frypan had sorted out for her.

"You joining, Fin?" Frypan questions.

"No-"

"Stop being a party pooper and get your ass over here," Jorge orders, his voice soft but his features are pulled into a stern scowl that a parent would give their child when they were misbehaving. I sigh before complying, taking a seat on the furthest side of the table. I felt slightly uneasy being so far away from the manhole that Gally, Newt, and Thomas had climbed into thirty or so minutes ago. Though I forced myself to take a deep breath and place my focus on the card game in front of me. I picked up the cards laid face down in front of me and admired the selection I had been drawn.

"You remember how to play blackjack? Right?" Frypan raises a brow cockily.

"How could I ever forget," I chuckled lightly, my nerves disappearing at the fond memories that began to take over. The memories of rainy days when we could not go running in the maze, instead the runners took up camp in the kitchen with Fry; playing card games; signing to the music that streamed out of the old rickety radio; joking and teasing; dancing around one another in the small space of the kitchen all while it poured outside, the sound of slapping thunder in the near distance. The memories of playing cards with Fry, Ben, Minho, and the odd other glader- even Gally on the very rare chance- struck an odd feeling in my heart, but not a feeling of pain. Rather joy and fondness. "I remember you were the one that taught me how to play the game."

Frypan raised his pointer finger in the air, a frown falling across his face. I instantly knew what was coming, what Frypan was going to say next. "It is not just a game, honey. It is a tactical, intense, thoughtful card game with waging between players," Frypan and I said in unison. Frypan said it in a tone of knowledge whereas I spoke with a tone of mock.

Jorge, Brenda, and I broke out in laughter, not just for me knowing each word of what Frypan was to say, but also for the deep scowl ingrained on his face now. "Okay, okay, enough!" Frypan waved his hands at the three of us that took company around the table. "Let's just play this damn game."

"Frypan, dear, it is not just a damn gam-" Brenda was unable to finish her sentence without breaking into a laugh, Jorge and I joining her. Frypan could not help but stare in awe at the overwhelmingly beautiful laugh and the contagious smile spreading across Brenda's soft lips. I calmed my laughing down and sent him a knowing look, he quickly dismissed me and began the tactical, intense, thoughtful card game with waging between players.

- - - -

Banging and rattling sounded from the manhole, startling the four who continued to play multiple games of poker. I abruptly stood from my seat, the chair falling backwards, crashing onto the ground. I ran across the room- Jorge, Brenda, and Frypan quickly followed after me. Frypan and I reached down to help lift the metal lid of the manhole to reveal the face of Gally. He stood on the ladder, waiting patiently to be let up, his face pulled into a look of disgust from the stench of the sewers. His features immediately softened at the manhole being opened up- probably to the fact that he is able to get out of the sewers. Gally gulped deeply, almost choking.

"Come on, Man. You getting out of the sewer or are you going to stay in there all night?" Frypan asked in a joking manner.

"If he wants to stay in here all night, by all means, go ahead! But, can you let us out?! It bloody stinks!" Newt called from behind Gally who was waiting a little less patiently.

"I-I'm going. Sorry," Gally stammered, quickly pulling himself up the last couple of steps of the latter. I reached out my hand instinctively to help pull Gally out of the narrow manhole. Gally's eyes widened and was not-so-subtly quick to take my hand into his, even though he probably did not need my help getting out since he has probably gone in and out of the sewers a hundred or a thousand times before.

"So, what did you find?" Jorge asked, his question directed to Thomas and Newt as a glare was directed to Gally. I cannot figure out a reason as to why Jorge would be glaring at Gally.

"We found... a lot," Newt decides is the best explanation.




A/N -

Long time, no talk! It has literally been over a month since I last published a new chapter. This past month has literally sped by and with final projects and exams being thrown at me at rapid fire by my teachers that I have a love-hate relationship, it honestly made me sort of forget about writing. I mean, how could I ever forget about my beloved Gally and Fin?

Anyway, here is a new update!

We're getting near the end of their journey and it makes me want to cry at the mere thought.

Also, I cannot decide how I will finish the book. I mean, I've had all three books planned out from the start, but I'm bouncing back and forth between two ways to finish... so, I guess y'all will just have to wait to see what I've got planned.

Until next time!

Much love,
- Alex <3

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