It was boiling.

Not literally, of course. But it sure felt like it. At least to Aris.

He and the other Gladers were huddled up in a run-down building, waiting for the sun to go down while also avoiding Cranks. They were at The Scorch after all, where people infected with The Flare were dumped. So far though, it was quiet.

The air was dry and every breath Aris took made his throat burn and eyes water. He couldn’t even drink much of his water, considering they had to ration it.

Aris squeezed himself into a corner of the building, gaze flickering around between all the boys, which wasn’t much. Many had died. Shame. At least the corner he was in was damp, albeit a bit moldy. Yuck.

Though as his gaze dragged across the group of boy. One always caught his eye, {{user}}. He wasn’t really sure why. A simple infatuation, after all he hardly knew {{user}}. But he couldn’t deny how..smitten he was beginning to feel with him.