I stared at my hands, absentmindedly picking at my silver nail polish, while listening to the therapist go on and on about what he thinks is wrong with me. Depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, etc. the list goes on.
"…You're isolating yourself from everyone you know, Beatrice. It's not healthy."
"Tris."
He cocked his head, confused. "Excuse me?"
"My name is Tris, not Beatrice." I sat up straighter. "I've been telling you that since day one. Why can you not seem to realize I don't want to be called Tris?" I glared at him – difficult as it was. He was way more attractive than your normal therapist was. Normally when you think about a therapist, you think of someone who's older and wiser – typically women. And that's what I thought when I arrived at the Amity Ave. therapy clinic, a woman with brown hair and a scar above her right eye running down to her chin, Johanna Reyes, had greeted me with a smile.
But instead of Johanna, I was handed over to Tobias Johnson. He was fresh out of college and, as much as I hated to admit it, was a pretty decent therapist for being so new. He was tall, muscle-y, and had his dark brown hair cropped. He looked like someone you would expect to be in the military, but no – instead he was a therapist.
"We're not really allowed to use nicknames because it can be connected to bad thoughts." I roll my eyes and stand up from the chaise. "Beatrice, please sit down. We are not done here."
"No disrespect, but I think we are. I'm not depressed and I'm not suicidal. I am just upset and since when is it against the law to be upset? I'm not putting myself in danger and I'm not putting anyone else in danger so I see no point in coming here twice a week." I stormed out of the office, leaving the door opened. I felt something sharp twist in my stomach – guilt. Why was I feeling guilty? Maybe because I've been causing Tobias more trouble than he needs.
I hurried towards the elevator and into the lobby where Caleb, my brother, was waiting for me. "Why did you leave early?" He asked, looking at my balled fists. I uncurled my hands and rubbed them against my pant legs.
I was silent for a few seconds, trying to find an excuse. "I couldn't take it." He crosses his arms across his chest and frowns, something he did a lot when I was a kid. "Beatrice, you need this. It's important to make sure that nothing happens to you."
"I am not depressed!" I meant to yell, but it came out more like a whisper. I was fully aware of the eyes on Caleb and me. "Why can't everyone just see that?" Tears started to well up and I turned away from Caleb and ran down one of the empty halls. I waited until the hall ended and then I slouched against the wall and slid down to the floor, my arms wrapped tightly around my chest. I let a strangled sob escape and covered my face with my hands. Maybe I was depressed. I wasn't depressed to the point of endangerment, but I could still be depressed. No. I am strong. I am not depressed – just sad.
"Hey, are you okay?" I jump slightly, scared by the voice, and quickly rub my tears away with the edge of my sleeve. I look up and see a man with short blonde hair, staring at me. He has two piercings above his right eyebrow and two black earrings that look almost like screws. He has a full jaw and a smile that looks friendly but has a hint of mischievousness behind it. I shrug, tired of lying. "I'm Eric."
"Bea…Tris. My name's Tris." I sniffle and watch as he sits down next to me. I don't wonder where Caleb is because I know he's probably gone to talk to Tobias or Johanna about what happened – overprotective and worrisome fool.
"Why are you crying?" He bends his knees and rests his arms on the top of them. I shrug again, a natural instinct in this building. I wanted to tell him, but I just couldn't. I didn't know him, I didn't know where he came from and I didn't want to share my private moments with a stranger. I stared at him, speechless. "Right, strangers. Well, how about we hang out later tonight? As long as you aren't busy." He cocks an eyebrow and I can't help but smile. I nod. I hand him my phone and he saves his number into it and hands it back to me.
"Tris?" I look up to see Tobias walking down the hall and Caleb trying to keep up behind him. I push myself up off the floor and Eric follows suite, brushing dust off his backside. Tobias glares at Eric as he stands in front of me. "Eric, what are you doing here?" I glance between Eric and Tobias, confused.
"Applying for a job." Oh, great! Another therapist. I internally groan. Eric smirks at Tobias and I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. There was a lot of tension between them and I was stuck in the middle of it - Tobias on my right and Eric on my left.
"Beatrice, we need to get going." Caleb demands, and I happily slip from between Tobias and Eric.
"I'll call you later." I nod towards Eric and he smiles. I turn away but still see Tobias jabbing his finger into Eric's chest, his jaw taut.
Caleb and I had moved from our childhood home into an apartment in the midst of the city in Chicago. There were too many memories in the house and neither Caleb nor I could stand to deal with them, so we left and both thought it would be best to move into the city. My room had a nice view of the city and also had a fire escape for nights like tonight where I wanted to get out of the apartment without answering twenty questions from Caleb. Every time I tried to leave he would ask me where I was going, when I would be back and who I was going with. He was worse than our parents.
I had called Eric like I promised, and he suggested we meet up at a bar called The Hub. It was just outside the city and he promised I'd be home by eleven. I didn't know how I was going to get into the club, being only nineteen, but he told me to trust him. It wasn't hard for me to trust strangers – a major character flaw that I absolutely hated – I just couldn't not trust people. I was raised to see the good in people. I had tried to dress as adult as I could – in a pair of black leather skinny jeans, a tight, low-cut top that showed off my collarbones and the three black ravens tattooed under my left collarbone. I paired the outfit off with a pair of mid-calf black boots.
I met up with Eric in front of the club and he smiled, waving me over. "You made it." He sounded impressed. I nodded and he waved a small group of people over. "This is Christina, Max, Uriah and Will." Christina smiled at me. "Everyone, this is Tris." Max and Uriah turned towards Eric and I was left standing in front of Christina and Will. Christina was pretty – she had smooth, dark skin and short black hair that was in a French braid. Her brown eyes were big and luminous, but still pretty. The boy, Will, kept his hand lightly on her waist. "Nice to meet you." She hugs me, catching me off guard. Will smiles and it's possibly the friendliest smile I have ever seen. "So how about we go get some drinks?" She smiled and looped her arm through mine and pulled me into the bar, completely bypassing the long line and bouncer. He didn't stop us and didn't force us to show him our .
We make it into the club and I subconsciously hold onto Christina tighter. It's just barely light enough to see the person standing next to you and there are people dancing against each other and people in booths, laughing and drinking. Christina pulls me and Will over to a large booth with a group of people already sitting there. I recognize one person – Tobias.
I want to let go of Christina and run out of the bar, but I can't – he's already noticed me. His smile fades and worry creases his forehead. He excuses himself from his friends and walks over to me. He nods at Christina. "Hey, Tobias."
"Tris, can I talk to you?" I look at Christina and nod at her. She shrugs and walks with Will to the booth and slides in – basically sitting on his lap. Tobias pulls me to the hallway with the bathrooms where there's a larger amount of light than the dance floor. "What the hell are you doing here, Tris? You're nineteen!"
I cross my arms over my chest. "Trying to have fun. That's what everyone's been telling me to do for the past four months! They've been yelling at me to go out and have fun and that's what I'm doing!" He shakes his head. I notice that he's not wearing a suit and he looks pretty good. He has on a black sweater that accent his muscles nicely and a pair of dark blue jeans. His hair is unruly and it makes him look even better.
"So you came here with Eric?" He looks disgusted.
"Yeah and why were you yelling at him earlier?" I stand up straighter.
"You don't need to worry about that, you just need to worry about Eric. He is not a good person, Tris. He will get you into a lot of trouble. He isn't worth it." I glare at him – something he's probably used to by now.
"You're a therapist. You don't think anyone's good for you." I turn on my heels and stomp over to Christina. I sit down next to her, running my hand through my hair. Tobias sits down across from me, but I manage to ignore him for the rest of the night.
Around eleven, Eric sits down next to me, putting his arm across my back, pulling me into his side. I blush and hide my smile.
"Come back to my place with me." He whispers into my ear, sending chills down my spine. "Please?" He looks at me, smiling sweetly. I've had only three beers and it's making me feel off. I nod and he takes my hand, leading me out of the bar. We get out to the front where a majority of the line has died down.
"Eric, stop." We both turn around and see Tobias pushing past the bounce. "Let me talk to Tris really quick. I have to ask her a question." Eric glances at me and I roll my eyes. I walk over to Tobias and he reaches out, touching my elbow lightly. "Please don't go home with him, Tris. I am begging you for your own good." He didn't look like my therapist; he looked like a caring friend.
"Tobias, please. For the past four months I have been miserable. I have not found anything or anyone that has made me happy since the accident. I trust him and I'll be fine – I promise." His hand drops from my elbow and he sighs, his eyebrows knitting together in frustration. I resist the urge to reach out and smooth them. Instead, I turn around and walk back to Eric, who wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me towards his car. I glance over my shoulder and see Tobias walking away and kicking a trashcan. I wince as I hear the trash clutter and I suddenly feel terrible. I stop walking, causing Eric to skid to a halt and stare at me, confused.
"Is something wrong?" He asks, tossing his car keys up into the air and catching them. I think about lying to him and telling him that nothing was wrong and following him to his car. I can't. I won't.
"Ah, yeah. I just…I promised my brother I would be home tonight." He looked at me, quirking his pierced brow. I took a deep breath, hoping he believed it.
"Does this have to do with something Eaton said?" He asked, his face suddenly turning angry. I shook my head, trying to wipe my hands on my leather pants. "Is he hurting you? Or threatening you?"
"No!" I stared at him in horror. "No, Tobias isn't – he's not hurting me or threatening me. He's just my therapist." Eric gripped my hip a little tighter than necessary, and he pulled me towards him. I threw my arms up to keep at least an arm's length of distance between the two of us. "Why did you call him Eaton? His last name's Johnson."
"Tris, if Eaton is hurting you, you can always tell me."
"I told you, Eric. He's not hurting me! Now, I need to go home." I pull my arm away from him and shove past him, walking towards a lit corner of the street, hailing a cab.
"Good morning, Beatrice." Tobias nods at me as I step into his office. It's been two weeks since he told me not to go home with Eric at the bar, but it feels like it was just last night. I just feel so awkward.
"If you call me Beatrice one more time, I'm going to throw my shoe at your head." I grumble, sitting down on the edge of the chair. He manages to smile and then quickly covers it with his hand. Seeing Tobias smile is quite a sight – it's such a lovely smile.
"I apologize – force of habit." He crosses his leg over his knee and rests his notepad on his thigh. "Now, Tris, do you want to begin talking about the night at the bar and why you decided it was a smart decision to go to a bar with Eric the other week?" His tone was a mixture of worry and jealously. I groan and shove my hands under my thighs, and rock back and forth.
"Since when is a therapist allowed to ask that? Aren't you supposed to ask about my "depression" or my isolating people?" He shakes his head and I'm suddenly angry. "Or how about instead of trying to convince me to stay away from Eric, you just walked away and kicked a fucking trash can? Why does Eric call you Eaton?"
"Did he hurt you?" He asks, leaning forward on his forearms. I shake my head, wiping the underside of my eyes with the pads of my thumbs. "Tris, what did he do to you? Why are you crying?" He reached his arm across the space between us and rests his hand on my arm. I don't try and push his hand away; I welcome it as if it's the only thing holding me from completely falling apart. For the past few months, whenever I let a few tears out, I feel as if I'm going to end up crying until I'm hyperventilating and hiccupping and out of tears.
"No, he didn't hurt me. And stop trying to change the subject! Why does Eric call you Eaton? I thought your last name was Johnson." Tobias sighs and leans back.
"This isn't the time or place to talk about this. Come over to my place at five and we can talk more." He scribbles something on a piece of paper and hands it to me. His address. I rub my face with the palms of my hands, and stand up.
I leave without another word and Caleb doesn't say anything about my leaving early again. The drive home is silent. When Caleb pulls up in front of the apartment and I jump out of the car, hurrying up the steps to our apartment. I unlock the door and throw myself onto the couch on my stomach and hiding my face in my pillow. I hear Caleb's footsteps and the door shut. "Beatrice, what's wrong?" He sits down near my feet and I push myself up, pulling my legs into my chest. "And would you like to explain why you pulled that little stunt the other week? The one where you snuck out of the house and went to a club?"
I groaned. "I am so sick of everyone asking why I did that. I don't know why I did it! I did it because I was being stupid and being a teenager!" I run my hands, frustrated, through my hair. "I'm sorry I did it and it won't happen again." Caleb shakes his head.
"Does this have anything to do with what happened to Mom and Dad? Beatrice, you know it wasn't your fault."
"It's not about them!" My voice was louder than normal, causing Caleb to scoot back a few centimeters. "I don't want it to be about them." I wipe back tears and bite the inside of my cheek. "Can I just…just be alone?" He nods and gets up, rubbing my shoulder as he passes me. I think about not telling Caleb about going out tonight, but I can't do that – he's my brother. "Caleb," I call to him. "Tobias…he invited me to his place so that we can talk some more and I'm going to go." Caleb nods and rubs the back of his neck.
"Just be careful and call me to let me know when you're coming home." I nod, promising him that I'll call him. He shuts the door to his bedroom and I push myself up off the couch.
Around six-thirty, I stand in front of a large apartment complex about ten minutes from the Therapy office. I stare at the buzzer to Tobias's apartment and decide whether or not to go home or not. He's my therapist and I've hated him since the day I was forcefully brought to therapy. I very rarely opened up to him and I didn't want to. But here I was, standing in front of his apartment.
I sigh and press the buzzer to his apartment. "Come on up." I hear his voice over the intercom and I pull open the front door and head up the steps.
Tobias opens the door and he smiles at me. "Come in." He steps aside to let me in and I return his smile as much as I can and he shuts the door behind me.
"I'm sorry I'm late." Tobias shrugs.
"It's fine. Do you want something to drink?" I nod and he disappears into the kitchen. I sit down on his couch and pull my legs up underneath myself. There's a stack of books on the coffee table, a guitar in the corner of the room and a large flat screen TV hanging on the wall. Tobias comes back out of the kitchen with a beer and a glass of soda. He hands me the soda and sits down next to me on the couch, placing the beer on the coffee table. "So do you want to talk about why you hung out in a bar with Eric?" He asks, flinging his left arm over the back of the couch. I move so that my back is pressing against the arm rest, and pull my legs into my chest like I did earlier at home.
I shrug. "Why do you sound so angry every time you say Eric's name? He's a nice guy." He frowns and stares at me.
"Tris, he's not a nice guy. He's dangerous." He quickly took a sip of his beer and then looked at me again. "I've known him for a long time and he's gotten into a lot of legal trouble. I don't like the idea of you around him." My stomach clenched and I couldn't help but smile a little. He cared about me. It felt nice to have someone genuinely care about me. "Promise me you'll stay away from him." Tobias placed his hand on the top of my knee and I stared at his hand but still nodded.
I turn my gaze back onto his face and took a deep breath. "I'll stay away from Eric if you tell me why he kept calling you Eaton instead of Johnson." He dropped his hand away from my knee and sighed.
"My real last name is Eaton. But I changed it once I went to college because my Father abused me and I didn't want to have any part of him and his surname was the last thing that connected me to him. So I took my Mother's surname – Johnson." I frown. His father abused him? I stare at him. He doesn't look the kind of person who would be beat. He looks strong, tough and brave.
"So you became a therapist?"
"I became a therapist because I was tired of feeling alone and, as bad as it sounds, I was happy to hear that I wasn't alone and that my father wasn't the only monster in the world. But that wasn't the only reason. I wanted to help people. I want to help people. It makes me feel better when I can help someone stop being afraid of their parents or help someone with their depression." He shrugs and I can't help it – I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him.
It's a natural instinct to want to comfort someone who looks like they're in pain and Tobias was in pain and I couldn't help it. My arms ached to comfort him.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me to him. Normally I shy away from affection, except for Caleb, but I didn't want to push away from Tobias. It was strange – I wanted him closer to me.
Tobias pulls back and smiles at me. I stretch my arm out and press my hand to the side of his face. He leans into my hand, and places his hand on top of mine. He looks at me, his eyes burning into mine and I suddenly feel awkward and childlike. I don't know why – maybe because he's older than me or because he's my therapist.
But he apparently isn't thinking the same thing because he places his hands on both sides of my face and pulls me close, attaching his lips to mine. For a moment, I'm too surprised to move or react, but then I feel myself melting into the feel of his lips against mine and twist my hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling myself onto his lap.
I hear my inner-self yelling at me. Stop kissing him! You barely know him! You are so stupid! So childish! But that just makes me kiss him harder. I don't want to stop kissing him. I've known him for five or six months – longer than most people know their significant others. I'm not stupid. I'm not childish. I've told him about my parents' accident and I've told him things I would never even tell Caleb, and he's told me about his dad and that means that he trusts me.
Tobias moves his hands from my face down to my waist, gripping tightly and pulling me closer to him. A small gasp fell from his lips and suddenly I was pushing him away and pushing myself off of him.
"I'm so sorry. That…that was really stupid and I shouldn't have done it. I'm really sorry." I apologize over and over again, hiding my face in my hands.
"Tris, it's fine. I should be apologizing." He laughed once and pulled my hands away from my face. I shake my head.
"I need to get going. Caleb's expecting me home."
"I can drive you." He offers but I just shake his offer off.
"No, no, it's fine. I can walk." I see his horror-struck expression. A young girl walking alone in the middle of night in Chicago? Not a good combination. "Or I can call a cab. I'll be fine." I turn and hurry out of his apartment, shutting the door and running down the steps. Once I get outside and get a cab, I finally breathe again.
I got back to the apartment just as my phone started to ring. It was Caleb. "Hey, I'm sorry I didn't call you. I'm right downstairs."
"Oh, well I was just calling to let you know that I'm out with some friends. I'll be home probably around midnight or one. Will you be okay?" Concern fills his voice.
"Yeah, I'll be fine." I hang up the phone and slip it into my back pocket. I walk up the steps and when I get to our door, I see that it's slightly opened. I shake my head. Caleb is extremely forgetful and it's very frustrating. He was probably in a rush anyways. I shut the door behind me and toss my keys into a glass bowl sitting on a table near the door.
I go into my bedroom and sit down on my bed, taking my shoes off and tossing them into my closet.
"Tris!" I jump at the sound of approaching footsteps. I expect to see Caleb but instead I see Eric.
"Eric? What are you doing here?" I stand up and walk towards him. "How did you get in?"
"I kind of…broke in." I glare at him. "Don't be mad! I was just worried about you. I haven't heard from you since the night at the bar and I was worried I scared you off." I remember what Tobias said about him and I wrap my arms around myself.
"N-No. You didn't scare me off. I've just been busy." I felt no remorse lying to him like I did when I lied to Tobias.
"Well, are you doing anything tonight?" I shake my head, and then regret it. "You should come back to my place with me. I'm having a small party." He steps closer, placing a hand on my waist. His hand feels cold – whereas Tobias's hand felt warm and strong. "I'd really like it if you came."
I didn't want to go with him, but he scared me. His grip on my waist was tightening and his eyes weren't their normal shade of blue – they were darker, almost black. I shivered, but he didn't notice. I didn't want to go, but I felt as if I had no other choice.
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting on a leather sofa, holding a cup of cheap beer and was wedged between two couples – both of whom were making out. I felt awkward and stiff as I watched people moving around the tiny condo, passing out beers or blunts. I didn't like this and I wanted to leave. I pushed myself off the couch, placing the cup of beer on the coffee table, heading for the door.
"Tris!" I felt someone grab my arm and I whipped around to see Eric. "Where ya going to?" I shrug out of his grip and cross my arms.
"I don't like it here. I'm going to go home." Eric laughs once, taking a sip of his drink, shaking his head.
"Here, take this." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a prescription bottle. He opens it up and dumps two small, white pills into my hand. "It'll calm you down." He smirks and looks at me.
I shake my head and turn on my heels, heading out the front door, but he grabs me again. "I said, take them." He growled, his mouth near my ear. I tried to pull away from him, but it was like he suddenly gained ten pounds of muscle. He dropped a pill in my hand, and gripped my free hand tightly. I lifted the pill to my mouth at the same time I lifted my knee to Eric's stomach, kneeing him as hard as I could. His grip faltered and I used that chance to pull away and drop the pill to the floor.
I turned, and hurried out the door trying to dial a number on my phone. I couldn't call Caleb – he'd be furious. I didn't have many other people to call who would look past this. They'd be angry at me.
As soon as I was outside, I slumped against the front wall, scrolling through my contacts again and again, finally settling on a number.
The phone rang three times and he finally picked up on the fourth. "Tris? What's wrong?"
"Please help." Tears started collecting in my eyes, blurring my vision. "I fucked up, Tobias. I need help."