I decided to update since things get a bit… tense in this chapter =)

Warning: Longest chapter I have ever written up ahead

Chapter 7

I'll find someone.

I will.

I come to school to see Will making out with Christina right smack in front of the school in the snow. Will leaning in, pressing her against the brick wall, his hands around her waist. Christina, or shall I say Chris, drapes her arms around his neck. Both of their eyes are closed, and neither of them pull away. Even when I come close, so close it's kind of funny that they don't see me.

"Ahem." I smile to myself, knowing i'm interrupting their 'moment'.

But I don't really care.

Will whips around, eyes wide, hair ruffled, cheeks red. He keeps his hands on Christina, and Christina keeps her hands on him. I slowly shift my head to look at Christina, and raise an eyebrow. She shrugs, blushing deeply, and says sheepishly "Things happen."

I begin to break out laughing, clutching my stomach, and pulling my head back. I hear Will and Christina nervously join in.

"When did this happen?" I ask, while rubbing the tears out of my eyes.

"Well, yesterday I guess." Christina shrugs. "It kinds just… ended up this way."

"Yea." Will looks back at Christina, right in her eyes. "It did."

Jealousy pinches my in my side, neither for Will nor Christina, but for their certainty. I could see it now, both of them. Together, telling each other their love for each other, kissing not just for fun, but because it meant something to them. Being together through thick and thin. So that's why I'm jealous. For their happiness. For their absolute certainty.

"Alright, you too." I smile at them. I am happy for both of them, really. "Will, if you break her heart, I swear I will hunt you down and knock the man right out of you."

Will laughs. "Intimidating, you are. I won't hurt her." He looks back at her again. "I promise."

They kiss again, and I look away, hugging my book bag closer to my side. "See you too at lunch. Do this at home, guys." I say to them. I get a "mmhm" from Christina, and a sigh from Will. I enter the school, probably without them even even noticing I'm gone, and head to class.

I wondered where Al was. I should probably tell my journalism group about Four and I's secret meetings. Later, maybe. Later.

I open my locker, grabbing my history books, and I make my way over to class. My head was foggy with thought about mostly Christina and Will. When did that become a thing? Will Will come and sit with us at lunch? Would his friends join us? He was on the football team, and he was pretty popular. Maybe he will invite Christina as his date to one of the Pedred boys' parties. I wouldn't be surprised if he did. Will seems nice. He seems like a keeper. I smile at the thought.

Once the bell rings, I am situated next to Micah, and Mrs. Jenkins arrives setting her books down on the desk. She begins, "Alright, class! Today will be a day dedicated to working on the project and-"

A random girl from behind me squeals, interrupting Mrs. Jenkins. "OMG! FOUR IS IN THIS CLASS!"

There is some screams from girls, and whispers from guys. All I think is Four? Four? Why was he in this class? It was advanced history, and their was some juniors, even freshmen in this class, so I suppose it wasn't weird. But why was he in this class. How could I not have noticed? Did he just transfer?

I turn to see him, looking as handsome as usual, masked by his baseball cap on, trying to hide his face, and his sweater covering his toned arms. I wonder if the shirt he is wearing underneath is as tight as the white buttoned up one he wore yesterday. I see him glance my way. I look away, staring back at the annoyed Mrs. Jenkins.

"Settle down, class!" She hollers, trying to get the attention of her students. "Mr. Eaton's other history class was not able to… handle him being there. The principal saw it for him to switch classes. I expect he should be treated no differently from any other pupil and will not have to move again, understand?"

No, no, no. I did not understand. Why was Four here? I wonder if he was staring at me. I know him, I wanted to say. I kissed him.

"Now." Mrs. Jenkins says, "As I was saying, please work on the project with your designated partner. Four, please see me."

I look to Micah, my thoughts still on Four. As he goes to the teacher, I can smell him. His distinct smell of pine from his car, and some masculine scent, probably his deodorant. As he passes, I flinch, hoping he doesn't notice. As friendly as we were outside of school, what was outside of school stayed outside of school. Most of the girls here would give me the stink eye for hanging with him.

I hear his voice, how deep it was, like the way I trained myself to hear to at the coffee shop whenever he ordered a drink so I knew he was there. I breath in.

"You okay?" Says Micah, actually sounding worried.

I let go of a breathy laugh. "Yea, I'm fine. Thanks for asking." I tune out all of my thoughts about Four and Will and Christina, and focus on now. "What's this project exactly?" I say, and he laughs, causing people to stare. I blush, feeling a certain pair of blue eyes on me.

"Were supposed to get something very important, whatever happened in the past that we find certain interest in or how it impacted the world in any way to anyone, and then remake it. You know, act it out and stuff." He shrugs. "It can be anything, like when the apple phone was invented, or Van Gogh's first painting, stuff like that."

I nod with realization. This wasn't hard. There was so many things that happened in the past that I liked. I think of something that may just make our presentation better an unique.

"Micah," I ask, "Can we do an event that happened in our lives that was important?"

He looks to the floor, as if deep in thought, then says, "I don't really know, but I don't know why we can't do that. I mean, it did happen in history."

I smile, grabbing his hand, and dragging us to Mrs. Jenkins, ignoring stares people give us, or Four's stare in particular, starting with a certain curiosity.

"Mrs. Jenkins." I say, releasing Micah's hand finally, "Can we do an event that happened in our lives that was memorable? Maybe not everyone knows it, but still."

She smiles. "It's history, is it not? I say yes." She frowns before saying, "Would you mind an extra person in your group? I see it he will fit in your group just fine."

I glance at Four, and then look back to Mrs. Jenkins. "Sure."

She smiles again. "Great. Four, you are paired with their group. Be good to him children." She waves her hand. "Get to work, class!"

Micah moves to where we were sitting, dragging over another chair for Four to sit.

I suddenly feel hot breath, on the back of my neck.

"Long time no see, Tris." I feel his smirk without even looking.

I don't turn as I whisper, "We're in a class, Four. Stop flirting."

He just chuckles. I go to sit in my spot next to Micah, across from Four.

"Uh… so… Um…" You can obviously tell Micah's unease to be grouped with Four. I feel fine, though. As if being near him is normal, which is.

"Let's each pick a time in history that happened in our own lives and write them on paper. Then, we'll all compare and see which one we like the best." I start. Both boys nod their heads in agreement. I tear out three sheets of paper from my notebook, each handing them a sheet. I try to ignore the dirty stares of the girls, or the jealous and envious stares of the boys.

"Uh, Tris?" Says Four.

"Yea?" I say, trying to sound cool and not like I know who he is or spend my day with him at the coffee shop sometimes or that I kissed him.

"This paper," he holds up the paper that I handed him, "has writing on it."

I look over the paper, and see the writing of a story. I know what it is. A rough draft of a chapter to a story that I started writing. That was the rough draft of a story of mine… at that chapter happened to be the part where the two main characters had kissed. I had a bunch of written drafts for that chapter, trying to find the best one. Only, I put it in detail. Nothing too disgusting, only how I would imagine a kiss would feel. I guess I didn't notice that I had writing on it before tearing it out from my journal.

"Oh!" I say frantically, practically ripping the paper from his hands and shoving it in my notebook. I hand him another piece of paper, and he cocks his head at me. I feel my neck reddening, feeling ashamed for my intimate story chapter. I need it to be in the story though! It was crucial. Did he read it? Hopefully not.

I breath slowly through my nose and start to write about the good things that happened to me in my history. I write down neatly in a list the things that mattered to me:

-My author award

-My archery academical excelance award

-My first kiss

I look at the last one. My first kiss had been Four, the famous popstar across the globe. I wonder if he knew he was my first kiss. I wonder if I did anything wrong. I know for a fact that it wasn't his first kiss. I sigh, and erase the last one. No one in their right mind would believe he was my first kiss. No one in their right mind would believe that I actually kissed him, and he kissed me back. And no one, not even Four, had realized that I may have... felt something.

"Tris? You… uh… ready to share?" Asks Micah, nudging my slightly.

"Hm? Oh, yea. I'll go last." I say, looking expectantly at Four.

He grins a bit. "I suppose I'll go first, then. Okay, I have, well, I have four," he snickers at his stupid joke. "Anyway, I have 1: Becoming an actor, 2: Getting star award for best football player in my middle school team, 3: Getting 'best kisser' award on this stupid tv program," he does a quick smirk, eyeing me. I know that he was a good kisser already, "and 4: Finding love."

The last one makes my stomach turn. I don't know why. I ignore the feeling, and watch as Micah stares at Four, seemingly impressed.

"That's amazing. I don't think my historical events would be as good as yours." I grunt at Micah's attempt to get closer to Four. "I have 5. All having to do with football."

Then, both of them look at me. Being the only girl in the group, I blush. "Yes?"

"Tell us your list, Ms. History." Says Four, to most of my surprise.

"Ms. History?" I say, turning my head in his direction. He shrugs. "Okay. I.. uh… just got two. My author award that I got in middle school for best written short story," I smile at the memory of me having to walk on stage, scared out of my mind, "and a stupid archery award I got at a summer camp I went to."

"Remind me not to piss you off, Tris. I want to keep my eye, thank you very much." Says Micah.

"Is that it? It can't be." Before I know it, Four snatches the paper from my hand. He holds it up to his eyes. "Ah! There was something here! What was here that you erased?"

Blushing for the millionth time today, I attempt to snatch it out of his hands, but he just pulls it farther away from me. "What does it say, Tris?"

"Four!" I whisper-yell, trying to ignore the envious and hateful glances that come my way. "Four!" I say again, louder this time. I start to laugh quietly, then louder, and he joins in. I do also start to get worried, though. People are staring and may start to put the pieces together that were are friends. Besides this is the most I have ever talked to him inside the school. Most of our talking is done at the cafe. I didn't want anymore hate. And I definitely didn't want Christina to know about this.

Four finally hands me the paper back, and I glare at him, only resulting him to chuckle some more.

"Well." Says Micah, obviously annoyed that he didn't get to interact with the school's most popular senior. "I think I like the one that Four said, on the actor. I can tell that is a very important moment, and I like to reincarnate that one."

I smirk at Micah's attempt to impress Four, who just rolls his eyes.

"Tris?" Asks Micah.

"Uh. I guess." I say, but in truth, I wish that we could've done the one on football. I'd have fun tackling the boys to the floor, beating the crap out of them. I laugh internally, thinking how dirty that kinda sounded.

Four sighs. "Alright, I guess."

"You guys can come over to my place during the winter break," I offer. Both of them agree to my surprise, and I am happy it worked out. "I guess Four can tell us the rolls we have to play, and the outfits, and stuff."

"Okay." Four huffs. "Tris, you would be my manager, Mrs. Mathews. You would most likely wear…" he checks me out, literally from head to toe. I hesitate, and look away. I really should get over this stupid thing about boys looking at me. It's just feels so… awkward. I have no curvy body in any way. I look more like in the body of a 12 year old. Although I guarantee half the school girls would beg for Four to check them out. He finally says, "A blue long skirt, one that clings to your skin." He smiles, a weird one. "And the same color blazer, with a white button up tucked shirt underneath."

"What blue?" I say.

He thinks for a moment, and smiles. "Lighter than my eyes." He stares at me, his eyes full of mischief, and they glinted with something I can't tell. They remind me of the waves of an ocean blue sea. Or the night blue sky.

"I think I have something." A small smile appears on my lips. Thank god for my mom being a fashion designer-and her having fancy clothes.

"Micah." Four turns to him, and his eyes light up with excitement when he notices he was noticed by Four. "You can be my dad." Four winces, as if he's in pain, and then, his expression goes away like it was never there. I've never met his dad, nor have I heard of him on tv really.

"Sounds fair." Says Micah, nodding his head. I watch as Four leans back, his sweatshirt pressing against his body showing a bit of his muscles. I hear some girls sigh and giggle, and I look to see girls scattered among groups all occupying themselves by staring at Four with lovey-dovey (AN: Lol thanks Aubreylovesthegames for the word =P) expressions, appreciating his muscles. Four doesn't notice though. His face seems tired, as if he didn't get enough sleep. His eyes are closed, his head facing the ceiling, and his lips slightly part.

I look away, feeling awkward just staring at him like everyone else, although I can't help myself. He is handsome. Thankfully, the bell rings before he can see me staring, and I leave without saying another word to him or Micah.

That night, I am home alone curled up onto my couch with a bowl of popcorn at hand. Christina had forgotten about me and didn't force me to go to the football game this Friday, but that was fine by me. I was much more happy here on the couch relaxing.

My parents were both on business trips, returning on Sunday, and Caleb had taken Susan (his girlfriend) out to the football game on a date, although both of them don't really watch football or understand it, so they just went for 'fun'. That left me to do nothing, and I would've called Christina to hang out all day tomorrow or today, but I have a hunch she might be busy with Will.

This week's paper job was given to Amanda on the movie by Four. She seemed content by that, so we let her have the job. I wonder how this week's paper is going to turn out.

I flick through channels on the tv, and search for something I like. One channel in particular catches my attention. It's the PopSugar channel where there is a woman who takes about at the latest drama and gossip about superstars. Half the time, it's fake, and I would just skip the channel because I don't watch this stuff, but their main topic today catches my attention.

It's on Four.

I turn up the volume, and lean, out facing the tv more.

"- superstar Four has been sneaking out sometimes to go… to a coffee shop? Critics claim seeing him come their specifically meeting up with a blonde headed girl. Who is this hidden beauty? Coming back to you after the break."

I use profanity to it's best moment right there and then because I'm home alone. Its obviously me. Blonde hair, coffee shop. What the heck? How'd they find out? Who'd they interview?

I realize that I am on tv. And people are looking out for me, wondering who I am, envying me. I get up and pace back and forth in front of the tv. I shouldn't have hung out with Four ever! I shouldn't! He's a superstar and I should've expected this BS to happen! Know I'm all over the freakin' PopSugar news! I groan out of frustration. I may want to be on tv someday, but not in this way at all.

"And we're back!" Says the lady on the tv. I turn my face to see what else they have to say. "Another fan of Four caught a picture of the two together! Let's have a look."

I freeze. A picture? Holy crap, this was actually happening. This was actually a thing people were watching right now. I smack myself for being so stupid and naive. The picture shows up on screen, thankfully blurry, and it's of only our backsides so you can't see our faces. I take a deep intake of breath. It's still a picture of me. I can tell because of the my blonde hair and his tattered baseball cap. I'm so stupid, so very stupid…

Then, the doorbell rings. I freeze again. Did I hear that correctly? Yes, I did. After that comes a series of frantic knocks. My breath get's hitched. Who could that be? Not my brother or my parents, I know for a fact.

I flick off the tv, much more than happy to ignore the person, whomever it is at the door, but they don't stop. Hesitantly, I rise, and make my way slowly to the door. Once I'm about 3 feet away, the knocks are almost impossible to miss.

I stare through the peephole to see who it is, just to see another eye staring back at me.

I scream, and stumble back. Who the hell was that?

"Tris? Tris! Is that you? Please open up!"

It's Four. I can't believe the stupid guy came here. Did he not see the news? His arrival makes everything worse!

I stand there, not moving, before I realize he's standing in the cold weather and it's probably snowing.

I open the door, and he stumbles on top of me, basically tackling me to the floor. I yelp out of surprise. He gets up off of my, but doesent try to help me up. He just turns around, slamming the door shut and locking it.

"Four? What the-"

"Where's your tv?"

"Um, in the living room over there." I point it out. "But-"

He wastes no time in grabbing my hand and dragging me the way I pointed out. I feel as if I am on the edge of my seat, tingling with electricity and nervousness yet again.

He goes into the living room, and I have no time to think about how small my or unfancy my house probably looks like compared to what he has, or what I'm wearing, which is a black tank top and black basketball shorts that go past my knees, my hair messily braided down my shoulder.

"Four! I really want an explanation to as why you-umph!"

Somehow, he successful turns on the tv without my help, just to see the channel about him and I on, and he yet again crashes into me, forcing me to sit on the couch next to him.

"Did you see this?" He finally says.

"Yes." I reply, quite angrily.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea that-"

"Okay, look, pretty boy," I say, not caring that I interrupted him. "I thought you said that the people didn't know about this." I motion the gap in between us. "You know, I'm pretty pissed off. Why the hell did they… how did they… like…"

"Look, Tris." He says in a calming voice. "The PopSugar news apparently have been wanting to get a piece of information like this on me for a long time. They want to find out my secret." He runs his hand through his hair, bits of snow falling from it. "Apparently, they think I'm cheating on Bridget, my girlfriend, with you. Bridget's threatening to break up with me and the paparazzi have been following me 27/7. I know you're not used to this, i'm sorry It'll die down soon hopefully." He sighs, although the thing I get the most interested in is that he doesn't seem as distressed as I thought he would about his girlfriend threatening to break up with him. It sounds selfish, but something tingles in my stomach.

"Oh." Is all I say. He's wearing a black crew sweater, and some dark jeans, and no hat. He's not that noticeable, yet he looks extremely cute with snowflakes in his hair and on his shirt, illuminating his eyes.

"I don't think the paparazzi followed me here." He winces. "That would be bad. Is anyone home?"

"Just me," I reply.

"That explains why you're dressed all," he motions to my body.

I blush. These seem like boys clothes, and are revealing and tighter than normal clothes that I wear. "Yea, well I wasn't expecting visitors."

"I'm not complaining," he remarks, making me blush again. "Our back up story, bye the way, is that we are working on a project for school and needed to meet up, got it?"

"Yea." I nod my head, feeling... sad. "Got it."

"Oh, and also," he says, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck, "can I stay for a bit? Just until the paparazzi clear?"

This makes my stomach lurch, although I don't know why. "Sure." I say as calmly as I can. "Are you hungry?"

"Nah. I think I'm gonna eat this popcorn though." He reaches for the bowl.

"Eh!" I say, snatching it out of his grasp. "First you come into my house without permission, and then you eat my food?"

He chuckles. "I guess I'll leave then."

"No." I say, before realizing it. I quickly cover it up. "Wouldn't want the paparazzi to realize that you spent a night a girls house other than your girlfriend."

"Who said I would stay the night?"

"Okay, now you sound like you want to get noticed by the paparazzi."

He just chuckles again, and I let him have a handful of popcorn.

After that, we end up just watching a random program on tv after shutting all the windows and blinds in the house. He says the paparazzi like to spy, and that makes me nervous as hell. I give him a pair of Caleb's clothes, just an old pair of his boxers, a black shirt and comfortable sweatpants. He showers in the bathroom, and I sit on my bed flustered and oddly amused that he is actually showering in my shower. Not that it's a big deal…

"Hey, Tris? He yells out after a while.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Could you, uh, hand me a towel?"

I curse myself out for not giving him a towel. He's probably freezing his butt off without one. And he's naked. I have an odd urge to giggle like a 2 year old.

I purposely pick out the pinkest towel out of them all, and come to the door.

"I'll leave it by the door and then I'll leave, okay?" I say.

"It's fine." He says. Before I can analyze what that means, he opens the door abruptly completely commando, not covering up anything.

I gulp, and turn my head, outstretching my hand in his general direction, making sure not to look anywhere in particular.

He laughs. "You have an odd taste in towels, Tris."

"Mmhm." I try to ignore the fact that he stands naked a couple feet away. He finally grabs the towel from my hands and closes the door.

I shiver. Well... this was a great story.

I plop back down on my bed, stretching out my legs and settling with the journal dedicated to Four at hand, and I begin to write some things down.

Four: Male actor, Six feet something, muscle-y, handsome, blue…

"Whatcha writing?" Says a voice. I jump to the side, to see Four standing there, his hair wet with shower water. I try not to stare at his chest, and Caleb's tight shirt he wears that defines his muscles.

"Oh, nothing." I slam the journal shut, my heart racing. It had all the information on him in it. If he did as much as read it, I'd know he'd know what it is, and our friendship and any chance of getting closer too him would end.

He raises an eyebrow, but doesn't push it. Instead, he tosses his wet towel at my face, and I complain that's not sanitary. He laughs, and sits at the foot of my bed.

I pull my shorts down, self conscience they had ridden a bit up my thigh. I take an intake of breath, and ask a question that's been on my mind some time.

"Why Four?"

"What do you mean?" He says, not taking his eyes off his feet.

"You know," I say, ancy to see his deep set of blue eyes. "Why is your nickname Four? Why don't people call you Tobias?"

His head snaps up at his name, and I know I did something wrong.

"Sorry," I mutter. "It's not my place to ask."

"Four times." He simply says.

"What?"

"It took me," he continues, "four times to become an actor. I auditioned four times before I finally got it. I guess the nickname just stuck." I can tell his unease to talk about his acting career.

"Four." I say, letting his name roll of my tongue. It had so much more meaning now that I knew the true story behind it. I think there is more to it. I don't push it, though.

"That's me." He grins, then yawns, lying his head down so it's inches from my feet. I get up and lie bye him. It's just like the coffee shop. Only a six inch space between us, the space charged with electricity. I feel it should be smaller.

"Since I told you about my name, when will you let me read your stories?" He murmurs, on the verge of sleep, I can tell.

"Maybe some day." I reply in barely a whisper.

And I really try to stay awake, I really do. But sleep pulls me into its shadows forcing me into a peaceful slumber.

Ok, so two updates in a row! I know, it's all cool and stuff.

Thank you guys so much for the support! Please let me know what you think of my story so far by reviewing! I have a whole story plot that I plan to use… so yea =)

Thank you all! You guys are so wonderful!

~Sky