"That's a lot of food," Thomas remarked as he took Derek's hand and pulled himself up onto the rock. He settled himself on the rock next to Derek, stretching his legs out and shaking some water off his arms.

The chill that had clung to him as they'd walked up the beach was gone, driven away by the sun above. Thomas watched the small droplets of water dry quickly on his arm as the heat warmed him up.

"I can help you with all that, if you want," Thomas offered, glancing over. He pushed his hair off his forehead, letting the damp strands slide through his fingers. "Not that I know how to cook, though. That was Frypan's thing, and he hated other people mucking up in his kitchen."

Even those Gladers that worked underneath him were often regulated to grunt work like dishes, serving, and other menial tasks while Frypan played gourmet chef.