I Am Selfish, I Am Brave
Rated T- (rape, abuse, and language)
This is my first fanfiction please leave reviews I will love you forever. I promise it will be worth the read.
Disclaimer- I do not own divergent. Also for the record I know nothing about football or fitness training, so naturally I am compelled to try a topic about both. Here goes nothing.
Chapter One
(Four's POV)
When they said we had a new fitness trainer, I was definitely not expecting this. Zeke gives me a look from across the locker room, and I know I'm not the only one surprised. If the coach hadn't introduced Tris as our trainer, I would have thought she was lost.
Tris is short, maybe 5'3", and petite, but very toned. Her long blonde hair is pulled into a loose ponytail and she is wearing long sleeves and yoga pants, all black. She looks nervous, but determined. Tris has a lot of guts braving the men's locker room, even before practice it smells like foot. Peter wolf whistles at her as he walks around in nothing but a towel, and I immediately respect her for flipping him off without the coach standing next to her seeing. I laugh out loud and she looks at me with a smile. Her facial features are soft and her eyes are a light, bright blue. Her smile is intriguing and I realize she is rather beautiful. She looks away first, the floor suddenly becoming rather interesting.
I must have been looking too long, because I am definitely wearing my shoes on the wrong feet. I fix them quickly hoping no one has noticed my error. Zeke would never let me hear the end of it if he caught me staring at a girl. I slide on my pads and my number four jersey over my trusty tank quickly. Only Zeke has seen my tattoo and scars, and I would like to keep it that way. I grab my practice bag and sit on the bench waiting for Uriah and Zeke. They walk over to me, Uri tripping Zeke on the way, and sit down.
"Damn Four, someone has the hots for the new trainer!" Zeke slaps me on the back. How could he have figured that out?
"I have no idea what you are talking about." As I say it, even I don't believe a word. But I could never admit that to Zeke, or he would harass her for her number and embarrass me until I lost any chance of her finding me remotely sane. Zeke gets a huge goofy grin on his face, and I know he's ready to run over to her and embarrass me. Before he has the chance to stand, I grab him by the ear and literally drag him out of the locker room. As we pass Tris he winks at her, causing me to elbow him hard in the ribs while she stands there looking confused. Sometimes I hate Zeke so much.
Practice is long and cold and brutal. The Chicago air keeps all of us moving as we run practice drills and many, many laps.
I look over to the sidelines and almost drop the ball as I see Tris sitting there, shivering, but writing furiously in a notebook. What could she possibly be doing? I watch as she looks up, and crinkles her eyes in concentration, carefully observing Drew as he kicks. I crack a smile as she scribbles again. She appears to be taking notes. I am amazed at how out of place she looks, and the seriousness of her fa- Whack!
"Fuck!" I feel a sting against my cheek and I blink hard, looking up for the guy who just threw the ball. I spot Peter about ten yards away, smirking. Figures. I rub my sore cheek and try to regain my composure so I don't kick the ball back at his face. I look to where Tris is sitting and my cheeks feel hot. She is looking directly at me, her body shaking with laughter. She covers her smile with her hand and looks down, writing quickly. Now, my humiliation will forever live in that journal of hers. I force myself to look away, before I end up getting a tooth knocked out or something. I resolve to focus on the game and the cold, not the pretty girl sitting there writing about me getting nailed in the face for staring at her. This was going to be a long practice.
…
After a while, the cold air gets really unbearable and the only escape is the weight room, my personal favorite. The shiny equipment greets us like the warm air in the room. I notice Tris standing next to the mirrored wall, jaw dropped at the huge room filled with state of the art exercise equipment. The coach approaches her and chuckles.
"Will it do the trick?" She just nods in response to him. It is clear she has never worked for the NFL before.
I make my way to the bench press, probably my favorite training tool besides punching bags, but we don't have those here. I set the bar with my weights and get to work, setting a steady rhythm and letting my head drift.
I really, truly hope Zeke doesn't say anything to Tris. She must get hit on all the time, especially in this line of work. Zeke thinks that because he finally married Shauna, he is the expert on women. I hope he has the sense not to do something stupid and I would like to think he does, but Zeke is also known for doing incredibly dumb things. I have gone on a blind double date with him and Shauna so many times, I know how truly bad he is at understanding what girls are really like. The conversation taking place in front of my weight rack interrupts my thoughts, and I set down the bar.
"Wow. I am so impressed by your one-handed pushups that your appreciation of my ass just flatters me. I didn't even know anyone could do a pushup with only one hand. You're so strong." Her voice is just hinting at sarcasm, and as she finishes her sentence, she throws her notebook on the ground and does fifty pushups on the spot. With one hand. Faster than Peter.
Peter mumbles something under his breath and walks away to the pull up bar. Tris simply stands, dusts off her pants, picks up her notebook, and walks off. I become aware of the silence in the room and my dropped jaw, and I watch as she sits by the weight rack and writes some more in her book, smirking. Damn this girl is so hot.
I fight the urge to run after her and kiss her for dissing Peter so freaking well. Zeke looks like he wants to do the same thing. I regret doubting this girl for even a second.
Laurel