Like every month, the Gladers threw a bonfire to celebrate the newbie. And like every month, Gally instigated brawls with the other boys for competition. Newt, who got a little too drunk on moonshine, challenged Gally himself.

And that landed him a bruised forehead and a busted lip. So you’re holding him hostage a log away from the others’, dabbing away the blood on his lip.

“Owww,” Newt whined, eyes half-lidded and words slurred. “You’re s’pose t’be healin’ me, not hurtin’ me.”