I don't own divergent :)
I'd be lying if I said that the car ride with Four wasn't awkward. He refused to talk and I had nothing to say. We pull up to my house ten minutes later to find Caleb's car already in the drive. Four steps out and looks up at the house. "Sorry, it's not much. More than I can handle honestly." He studies my face for a second.
"What about your parents, and your brother?" I get asked questions like this all the time, I should know how to respond by now. "My parents have been dead for five years and Caleb couldn't live on his own to save his life. Despite being older than me." He doesn't say anything (and I'm glad) , just stands there and looks at me. As if we have something in common. Trying to break the silence, I lead him to the door and unlock it.
Caleb is sitting in the kitchen, eyeing me suspiciously. "Who's this?" He nods his head towards Four. "This is Four. We have a class project and he's here to work on it. "Right… Just don't touch my little sister." He turns around and heads back to the kitchen. "She isn't your little anything." Four says and looks back at me.
"Thanks. I love him but he's so suffocating." Four chuckles at this. Probably the first time I've heard him laugh and hopefully not the last. "Trust me, I know the feeling."
"Siblings, parents?" I suddenly become interested.
"Something like that." What is that supposed to mean?
I lead him upstairs to my room where the laptop is. It's undecorated with only things I need and no life. "You must be the first girl without a mirror in her room."
"And just how many girl's rooms have you visited?" I attempt to make a joke.
"Less than you would imagine." He smirks and looks me in the eye. "Seriously though, I never imagined a girl, anyone to not have one."
"Well I guess I don't. We only have one in the whole house." I shouldn't have said that. My head drifts down.
"I never said it was a bad thing."
I grab my laptop and place it on my bed in between us. "So do you have any ideas of what we could include. To be honest I have no idea." He turns the laptop towards him and begin typing. He then turns it back towards me. There are five words on the screen: Dauntless, Abnegation, Candor, Erudite and Amity. "What's this?"
"I was thinking of this when Mr Eaton mentioned virtue. We could do a presentation. Each word and it's meaning and a visual display of a society where people are categorised into these groups; virtues." I stare at him, confused yet mesmerised.
"Scratch that, bad idea" He says nervously. He doesn't seem like the kind of person that gets nervous. "No, its great. You seem to have it all planned out. Have you don't this before or something?"
"You could say that." We take turns to type and define each word. We are going to have to meet up again as there is no chance of us finishing this today. His fingers slow down as he types the last few letters. "What time is it?"
"Quater past six." I reply flatly. I hear Four curse under his breath. He rapidly picks up his bag and runs down the stairs. I stare at him and lift my eyebrow. "I'll explain soon." He says as he opens the door.
"Tomorrow?"
"Just soon." The door closes. Caleb comes up behind me and tries to get a view out of the window.
"What was that?" He turns off the hall light and begins ascending the stairs.
"I have no idea." Caleb scoffs at me.
"Well I'm going to my room, revision." I can't help but laugh at this.
"Caleb, its the first day!"
"Exactly." What is it with that word?
FOUR
I close the door behind me and look up at the wall clock. It is half past six, this isn't good. Marcus is nowhere to be seen. I drop my bag at the foot of the stairs and climb them. The hall lights are off and the house appears to be empty. "Tobias." I freeze. Marcus stands in the doorway of my room holding a piece of paper in one hand and a box in the other. I recognise that box. It was full of letters I wrote to my mother but never sent and memories I had recounted with her. It was the only thing that seemed to calm me when I was younger. I recognise the sheet in my father's hand as the photograph of me and my mother which was taken outside millennium park eight or nine years ago. I cannot recognise the boy in the picture as myself. "Please explain this to me Tobias." He says my name as if it were poison. "I'd like to speak to you… in your room." I walk in to find every letter in more pieces that I could register, scattered over my bed and floor. I have never felt more of an urge to cry. But I don't. Marcus scrunches up the photograph and puts it in his pocket. He then closes the door behind him and looks at me.
I was lucky to get a couple of hours sleep that night. My back was sore in more places than I could count and there were still pieces of torn up paper over my fingertips and pillow. I brush them off in an instant and no longer care if he can hear me. What more can he do? The last problem that fills my head was what was I going to tell Tris tomorrow. She was certainly going to want an explanation for today, and she deserves one.