Remember Me

Disclaimer: This is a modern day AU based off of Veronica Roth's Divergent.

Rated M (because who can resist a tipsy Tobias?)

Chapter Two

What I thought would be an hour or two waiting to board the flight has become two hours simply spent waiting for the next announcement of delays. It turns out O'Hare is in the middle of a storm that's worse than they anticipated. They said to plan on waiting another three hours at least, but it could be as much as eight hours. At that point, everyone groaned before leaving the lounge, whether to find something to pass by the time with or to make arrangements for a flight at a later time.

The blonde from the security line was on the phone when the announcement was being made, so she relayed the information to who I guess must be one of her parents before she grabbed her things and went off somewhere. The mother with the two kids decided it was as good a time as any to get her children up too.

I thought about leaving altogether, using this as an excuse to put off a trip to Chicago even further, but the idea of going through all of this again makes my stomach churn painfully, like a metal clamp has clamped down painfully on my insides. Despite the dread of being home, I don't think I can handle imagining Hana's crushed expression if I cancel a trip again. Somehow, the moment I became Zeke's friend, I was her third son. She even had me on her Christmas cards one year, much to the confusion of her extended family and friends. The Pedrads are about the closest thing I have to a decent family, so since I'm already here, I might as well just stick it out. I owe it to them to follow through, and I need to get there before Thursday, anyway. It might as well be now...

Though, while I'm being honest with myself, it isn't going to be easy if I stay cooped up here. Relocating is my best bet, just to wait this out.

There's a place called Blanco Tacos + Tequila that I've been to before that's definitely worth returning to, and it's as good as any place to sit and wait. I order the carne asada tacos and a Corona before finding a little table in the corner to quickly eat, since the bar is full. I take the chair that allows me to watch the bar, in case a seat does open up.

The bartender is very quick, spinning bottles around almost like it's choreography. He flashes a grin to each person as he hands over a drink, but he adds a wink if it's to a woman. He spends a lot of time with one person at the bar, but my view of them is blocked by a group of guys sitting between us. I can't read lips, but I can tell the bartender is flirting, and not because he's trying to get a good tip or anything. He's actually interested, with the way he keeps smirking and winking, even going as far as reaching over to touch them. I can't help but get the sense he's not making much progress. He probably pegged them to be a certain type and completely misjudged.

My phone buzzes and rattles against the side of my beer on the table from a text. It's from Zeke filling me in on what the weather is up to in Chicago. It's 'snowing like a bitch' according to him, and he seems to think I'll be lucky if they don't just cancel the flight altogether.

If only I were so lucky! I down the rest of my beer and stand to throw out my trash, intending to leave, but freeze when I see a particular petite frame seated at the bar. She's the one the bartender has been flirting with, and I can tell by the way she's sitting that she's either oblivious to it or not into it. She did just break up with her boyfriend, after all. After a day like that, I don't blame her for being disinterested.

A middle aged woman that's sitting to her right gets up to leave, and she looks a little flustered that the older woman is leaving. Maybe she had been a comfort? I can understand that, being a young woman alone at an airport, sitting at the bar can be uncomfortable, at best. It's like me with airplanes.

I could use another drink…

There's no more thought after that. The next thing I know, I'm standing beside her. She's leaning up against the bar, the sleeves of her dark grey sweater pulled over her thumbs, her hands wrapped around her glass that is near empty. Her legs are bouncing sporadically under the bar as she takes her bottom lip between her teeth. It doesn't take more than a couple of seconds for her to sense my presence, though, and to my relief, she smiles when she sees me.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" I ask, gesturing to the now empty seat.

"Not at all, feel free," she says kindly.

I place my things under the bar before settling into the seat beside her. The bartender comes over moments later, asking what I want. Seeing as I haven't thought about it, I flounder for a second before I nod at the glass the girl beside me was drinking. "I'll have what she's having."

The girl bites back a smile before she adds, "And I'll have a refill, please."

He quirks his eyebrow at her. "Such a woman of fine taste," he purrs teasingly.

She flushes brightly before she shrugs and turns to me. "So, it seems we keep running into each other," she states plainly, her bright blue eyes looking into mine boldly. "In my mind I've been referring to you as 'the guy from the security line,' and I feel pretty bad about it."

I can't help but grin. "Tobias," I say, extending my hand to her, which she takes firmly. Her skin is soft and warm, and she is much better at the gesture than I am. I always feel like my grip is too harsh and that I never hold it long enough. IT just doesn't feel natural to me.

"I'm Tris. Nice to meet you, officially," she says, laughing a little with the last word.

"Yes, it is," I say as the bartender comes back with our drinks. "I will be starting a tab," I say as I hand my card over to him. He nods curtly before walking off again. With my glass in hand, I raise it to Tris. "To bad weather," I joke, and she laughs, tapping her glass to mine before we each take a sip. I nod approvingly, recognizing the drink as an El Capitan, which contains some kind of Don Julio. "Good taste indeed."

She shakes her head, laughing. "My neighbors taught me well," she remarks causally. "They're from Atotonilco El Alto originally, so I trust their judgement on tequila."

"I don't blame you," I say just as the bartender returns with my card. "So," I begin, taking a sip of my drink thoughtfully. "A January wedding in Chicago." She bites her lip, looking down at her own drink as her cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink that can be distinguished. "Sorry, I just thought it'd be weird if I pretended I didn't hear the one-sided phone conversation you were having ten feet away," I add, rubbing the back of my neck uncomfortably.

"Don't be," she says with a shy smile, "just like I won't be sorry to say I overheard your conversation with the little girl." She looks over at me and gives me half a smile.

"Deal." I give her a curt nod and return the smile before we each drink on it. Though, I won't lie, the idea that she heard that whole exchange makes me nervous as hell. Must not have been so bad, seeing as how warm she's being towards me now.

We sit quietly for a moment as Tris replies to a text she gets. She groans after a minute, burying her face in her hands.

"Was it the idiot brother?" I jest, coaxing her back out from behind her hands.

"It's his father this time," she says, wincing with dramatic effect. "That's to say, our father, who normally is calm and collected in the face of, well, anything, has plummeted into what my best friend calls 'The Void.'"

I choke out a laugh. "'The Void?' I get the sense your friend is dramatic."

"Oh, normally she is," she admits before drawing deeply from her drink. "'The Void' is a very real thing, though." She shakes her head vaguely. "It was like this when I moved from home. He just starts to worry about anything and everything that could go wrong… and about how completely helpless we are to stop most of it. I can't blame him."

"Ah, one of those dads," I laugh and she grins happily.

"Well, he did grow up in Fuller Park," she counters.

"Yikes. That explains a lot."

She quirks her left eyebrow ever so slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I didn't mean it in a bad way, but maybe making a comment about her neighborhood probably was a bad move. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to joke. It just seemed with the guy you were with earlier, you know, in line at security- shit, of course you know-" I cut myself off, shaking my head to clear it with my eyes shut.

I try again once I take in a deep breath and can muster enough nerve to look her in the damn eye. "It seemed to me that you took care of him quite well. Better than most people would, really. Anyone that grew up in Fuller Park, I imagine, would know how to take care of themselves. I can't say I've met many people with that kind of nerve."

Her gaze turns to one that feels like an assessment; like she's trying to size me up. It's a while before she says, "I never lived there, but I guess it probably rubbed off on me, just with everything my dad taught us." She cocks her head slightly, like she's curious. "Are you surprised?"

"Surprised about what?" My neck heats up, self conscious of what a massive idiot I am, and, apparently, am continuing to be.

She's assessing me again, but it doesn't feel critical. It honestly feels like she's trying to figure out how I tick, which is neither a feeling I'm used to nor one that I particularly enjoy. I have no idea what conclusions she's drawing…

"You said that I knew how to take care of myself. Well, at least from what you saw today, anyway. I'm not saying I-" She shakes her head, stopping herself much like I had. "Is it… surprising to you that I may be able to take care of myself like that?"

Huh? What else would I think? "Not in the slightest," I say firmly; surely.

"Really?" she questions, as if I had said something unbelievable.

"Yes, really. From the moment I first saw you, I could see you were someone not to cross. You have one of those looks," I say, remembering how the guy practically coward when she shot it at him.

"'One of those looks?' What kind of look are you talking about, exactly?" she asks through an exasperated laugh.

I can't help laughing with her. "Oh, you know, one of those, 'If a look could kill you,' type looks."

She's looking at me like I'm crazy. "You must be thinking of someone else," she chuckles, taking a big gulp of her drink. "I am about as intimidating as a hamster."

Now it's my turn to look at her like she's crazy. I have seen children take on guys my size and come out swinging. Size doesn't have to mean anything, but I guess that's not something others can appreciate.

"Do you want to know what I was thinking when I first saw you?" Stupid! I have no idea why that just flew out of my mouth when I don't even remember thinking it. My ears start burning up, the heat spreading down my neck and over into my cheeks. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Her cheeks flush as well, her eyes darting away from mine as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. She has nice lips… Wait, what?!

Must be the alcohol…

"Okay," I hear her whisper shyly.

It's too late not to follow through, so I grab my drink, throw back a decent amount before I turn more towards her. "I saw you standing in line. Honestly, at first I was pretty annoyed with the bickering. That's why I was paying so much attention," I say, truthfully. It makes me feel like less of a creep, and I'm surprised she's not thinking I am one, the way things have been going. Just move on, Tobias!

"Then at one point, I couldn't hear what you were saying, but you were standing right there, and I remember the way you stood," I say, remembering how sure she looked, about herself, her surroundings. Like nothing could throw her. "I knew from that moment not to underestimate you, not for a second."

Her eyes finally meet mine. The intensity they contain is almost maddening, the way it seems to disarm me enough to rewire every synapse in my brain to one that's more compatible to the energy she gives off. It's honestly… intoxicating.

Or maybe it's the tequila…

The pregnant pause that follows is one of agony, but my teeth clamped on my tongue almost to the point of bleeding takes the edge off as I wait for her to say something. Those eyes keep darting around my face, the bar, anywhere really, but never for more than a second at a time as she digests what I said. It's perplexing. I've never rendered someone speechless before, and now I really don't see that ability as a positive one. This is torture.

Finally, she turns to her glass and finishes it. The bartender, who was walking by to refill the guy at the end of the bad, raises an eyebrow. "Easy with the '42."

Once he's out of earshot, she whispers to herself, "This girl needs a 42 to the brain." I can't help but choke on a laugh. "Shit, you heard that," she groans as she buries her face back in her hands.

"I did, and in case you missed it, I laughed."

A few of her fingers spread apart as she peeks at me. "Maybe I should go easy with the '42," she says seriously.

The bartender passes and she stops him before he gets too far off. "May I have some water, please," she starts, nodding to me to order if I want something else. I'm almost done with my drink, so point for one more of what I'm having. She's had two, after all. I'm behind.

"Okay, now I just feel bad that you don't even know what you're ordering," Tris starts, looking between me and the bartender who's smirking.

"Oh, I know what I'm drinking, and how much it costs. This is not my first El Capitan rodeo," I say before finishing what's left of my first twenty-eight dollar drink off as the bartender sets the refill in front of me.

She squints her eyes at me. "Ya could have said something," she scolds jokingly.

"I just did," I tease. "And speaking of saying something, you're not so bad at skirting away from information."

She flushes again, her eyes darting down to her glass. Her flustered face is adorable, especially because it means she's just as nervous as I am. Why do I find that comforting?

"Fine," she says, like she's nervous of how this is going to go. "There are four things that you need to know about me." Shifting in her chair so that she's mirroring how I'm sitting, she meets my eyes confidently, contradicting her hesitance and evasiveness earlier.

"For one, people always underestimate me."

"Why?" I blurt out without thinking. Stupid!

The incredulous looks she gives me does not help. "Please tell me you're not seriously asking why people underestimate me."

"I'm told all I do is serious," I laugh, though it's not funny.

She frowns, but doesn't comment on it. "Well, for starters, I'm a girl, and-"

"And what? Not capable of kicking ass? Not capable of sticking up for yourself? Not intelligent enough handle things on your own? If that's what people think-"

"Tobias!" she laughs, cutting off my rant. It cuts me off, all right, because her saying my name makes everything else cease to exist. For a moment, anyway. Hearing my name said blissfully, happily, positively; it feels like I've been sleeping all these years and now, her voice is waking me up.

"Look, it's not just that I'm a girl," she says, pulling me from my thoughts. "I mean, that's part of it. It's more that I'm so small and weak and-"

"Bullshit. Being petite can be an advantage, and you are not weak," I counter. "Seriously, so long as you know what you're doing, size doesn't matter."

"That's what he said," she mutters under her breath. Then her face goes blank before horror sweeps over. "Oh, God, I-"

I don't even hear the rest because I'm laughing hysterically. After a moment, she relaxes, shaking her head at herself. "I walked into that one" I manage, after catching my breath a little.

"You did," she says, at least smiling. "Point is, people underestimate me, whether it's deserved or not.

"Second of all, I don't do well will the whole complement thing. I get all awkward and disbelieving."

"So, you underestimate yourself?" Why do I keep saying things without thinking?!

She bites her lip, her head tilted in concentration as she looks me dead in the eye. After a while, she says, "Maybe I do. Or, you could say I do what I can to keep my disappointments to a minimum. How else do you explain me telling my ex to take his non-refundable ticket and shove it someplace where the sun don't shine?"

I can't fight the grin the idea of that sparks. "Please tell me you really said that."

She laughs. "That and more. You did hear my end of that phone call with Christina," she says casually, though she's smirking.

She's funny. "He totally deserved it, though.

"Yeah, he kinda did," she says, shaking her head like she can hardly believe it. "It was such a great moment, seeing him stomp off like the petulant prick he is."

We each share another laugh at the vivid image that plays in my head. Once we've regained our composure and had a few more sips of our drinks, I ask, "So, what's number three?"

"Third thing you should know about me is… I cannot lie…" She sips her beer again idly, like she's killing time. "So, as you can see, that's why I went all speechless. You went full trifecta on me."

I'm about to comment in understanding when I remember, "Hey, you said you had four things I should know."

She smirks again, clearly pleased that I remembered. "Fourth and finally, what you need to know is that…" she pauses, sighing heavily, before she casually says, "One of the first three things is a lie."

It takes me a second before it all clicks, and I bust out laughing, which she joins in on. "Gee, I wonder which could be the lie," I ponder aloud, grinning at her as she chokes on her beer.

"Hey, don't judge me," she says defensively. "That's what I call my idiot-proof test. If people can't catch on and figure it out, and if they can't laugh about it, then I know they're not worth my time. It's a pretty good guide."

"I'd say it's foolproof, but it seems one slipped under your radar." The joke kind of just comes out without any thought and as much as I may think it's true, it's probably not exactly the best joke considering she's only a few hours post break up.

She looks at me like she's offended, but the light of a smile that reflects in her eyes is unmistakable, so I know she's just giving me a hard time. "Hey, now! I'll have you know, I never got to test the theory with him." She cringes, shaking her head. "By the time I had a real chance to try it, he knew too much about me and it wouldn't have worked, anyway."

"Too bad for that, you could have avoided the prick altogether."

"Hardly!" she says, part amused and part flustered. "He is the reason I will never let anyone set me up again."

"Oh, red flag right there," I groan dramatically.

"Oh, so you're some expert, then, are you?" Her eyes are so bright behind her teasing smile, I just want to get lost in them.

Now is not the time for it. Damn this tequila!

"Not an expert, but I am pretty good at spotting an ass from far away."

She smirks again, and I know I walked into another joke, but she doesn't take it. She doesn't have to say it for me to laugh again. "Are you always like this?" she asks, laughing. "Not a complaint, but I am curious."

I'm about to flat out answer, but I get an idea. I turn a little more towards her as I throw back the rest of my drink. I smack my lips and sigh happily, which makes her giggle, shaking her head in amusement.

"Three things you should know about me, but one of them is a lie," I say, allowing my own smirk to take over. "One." I hold up five fingers, looking at them thoughtfully for a second before returning my eyes to hers. "I can count on one hand the number of people I consider friends… mainly because I don't get along with most people, and most people don't like to deal with my bullshit," I say through a laugh at the last part, mainly because it's way too true.

"Your 'bullshit?'" She quirks her eyebrow at me questioningly.

"I can come across as a prick," I say honestly. "I'm not exactly the warmest person ever… I'm polite most of the time, sure, but usually only on a surface level. The moment anyone tries to get to know me, I get unreachable." My neck heats up again and it takes a lot of conscious thought not to rub at it. "Most people know very little about me, because I'm usually vague, thanks to my problem with specificity.

"I mean, look at my best friend! I've known the guy since I was sixteen and he only ever found out my last name a few weeks ago," I say, laughing uncomfortably. "Anyway," I say before clearing my throat, "long story short, I don't get close to people."

She's looking at me again with another expression that I can't quite figure out. Her eyes are intense and focused on me like she's x-raying my brain and decoding my DNA or something. Her lips show a hint of a smile, but there's a sadness present that almost counteracts it. I thought I was good at reading people, but I'm having little luck with her.

Instead of thinking about it, I continue. "Numero Dos," I say, feeling even more embarrassed by what I'm doing, but seeing how it'd make it worse if I gave up now, I ignore it. It's not like we'll see each other ever again after this flight. "I am deeply suspicious of people in general. It is my nature to expect the worst of them."

I don't even look at her as I say it, and the moment the words have fallen from my lips, I want to take them back, but it's definitely far too late for that. So instead, I plow on. "And for three, I hate music."

My eyes finally meet hers again, just in time to see the transition of expressions. The first shows little change from the last time I looked at her, as she seemed to be trying to dissect my brain with her gaze alone. Then her jaw drops like I just said something truly horrific, like, 'I don't like puppies,' or something.

Then she gives me a look reflecting that she knows that's the lie. She goes on to say, "That was way too easy. How can anyone not like music?"

Even though my truths seem to be lingering in the air, Tris doesn't bring them up. Despite their vague nature, it's like she understood what I was talking about without needing the words to do so. I won't lie, it's nice not having someone give me that look, like I'm some invalid who's one rough shove away from shattering. She's not itching to run, either, which is new, too.

Either this tequila is hitting me harder than usual, or there's something about this girl that is just intoxicating me beyond any realm I have ever come to know prior to this. I've never felt more comfortable having a conversation before. I've never even opened up this much at any given time ever. But for once, I swear, I don't care in the slightest. If anything, I'm counting my lucky stars for the shitty weather.

Whatever it is that's happening, I'm in for the ride.

AN: Wow! I am so blown away by the response to the first chapter! All of you have been lovely and kind, and I'm so happy people are enjoying it. Makes writing that much more rewarding.

To answer some questions: This will be a Fourtris story, but I haven't decided if I'll add Tris' POV in later chapters or not. For a while, it'll need to be strictly Tobiass POV (I promise there's a good reason!), but I would love to hear what you all think as we go along. While I have most of the major points of the story planned out with where it'll be going (big picture), I'm open to suggestions or ideas. Hell, if it weren't for my friend CP, the plot wouldn't even be what it is today. Initially, the story would have probably ended at the end of what currently is Chapter 4, but CP pushed me to think bigger and pitched some really great ideas, and after hours of working it all out with her, it's evolved into something bigger than I anticipated this story ever becoming. So, I love any and all suggestions, not just for this story, but if there are any other ideas you'd like to see written.

I've jumped into fanfiction writing because I find it's really good to brainstorm and practice different writing techniques, so that when I go to write my original novels, I've worked out a lot of little quirks and blocks before I even reach them.

Last but not least, I want to thank everyone again for their support, reviews, follows, favs, views- all of it. It means so much to me! Especially big shout out again to MJ and CP. Couldn't have done any of this without them!

I am so excited to post more! Chapter Three will by up sometime Monday.

-Willow