Chapter Ten

I eat so much that I get sick. Thankfully, Tris is there to hold my hair back for me as I wretch. It is embarrassing, but at the moment, with my face in the toilet of her and Four's apartment, I do not care if she sees me like this. Finally, after a few minutes, it is over, and my body relaxes all at once and I struggle to keep myself from falling on the floor.

"Did Amity not feed you?" Tris asks. She sounds as though she feels awkward, but she softens the question with a laugh.

I would laugh, too, but I am afraid that if I open my mouth I will get sick again. I just grunt in response, shutting my eyes to avoid watching the room spin.

"Maybe next time you shouldn't eat so much," she says, and her motherly tone is back.

I laugh in my head and nod, the feeling of nausea finally going away. "Yeah, good idea," I murmur cautiously. "Hey, you should show me my apartment."

She pauses. "Drake told you?"

I nod, still facing the toilet just in case. "Yeah, but he didn't say where it was."

I feel her hands grip me under my arms, and she heaves me to my feet without much effort. She is short and small, but I am smaller. I do not take pride in the way I am, however, as it is a constant reminder of the constant hunger pains in my stomach and the weakness in my muscles. "Can you walk?" Tris asks, and I turn to face her, gripping the counter beside me to steady myself.

I hesitate, gauging my strength as I lift my hands from the counter. "Yeah," I finally decide. "Do you have any mints or something?" The taste in my mouth is disgustingly acidic.

She laughs. "Yeah, one sec." She goes to the mirror, and she glances at herself for a split second. Her eyes turn sad, and her face contorts into a look of worry. I frown to myself. What is wrong? Is she unhappy she's having a baby?

The words are almost out of my mouth when a knock on the door reminds me of my place. I am thinking of her as a friend. She is nothing to me, and I am nothing to her. Do not get comfortable here, I remind myself.

Tris swiftly pulls a tin of mints out of the cabinet, hands them to me, and turns to the bathroom door. "Yeah?" She glances at me again, as if deciding whether or not to open the door to let whoever it is see me like this.

It is kind of her, but I am not sure how to take it. Surely I don't look that bad, right? To confirm this, I glance at the mirror, but I am surprised at who I see in it. The short, skinny girl looking back at me has bruises across her shoulders and arms, sweat has matted down her hair, and her eyes appear to be sunken in. Her ribs are sickly visible through the black tank top she wears, and her hair is not blonde but a gross, dirty color. Her cheeks are scarred and bloody, and her lips are cracked and red. There is a bruise on the side of her forehead and it appears swollen. My stomach aches at the image, and I quickly look away, tears in my eyes.

"Tris? Are you okay?" It is Four's voice through the door. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah; Em is here," she says the last part quietly to him as she opens the door.

Four glances at me, and his eyebrows raise, probably before he can help it, but then his face returns to its normal state. I look down at my feet in my socks, embarrassed.

"I was just going to show her where her apartment is," Tris explains. "She, uh, went a little crazy with the chocolate cake."

Four chuckles and nods, slipping his arm around her waist. "Okay. Well, hurry back," he says softly.

Tris leads me out of their apartment, down the hall not too far, and stops at a door that is unmarked. She pulls out a long key, sticks it in the doorknob, and I hear a click. She opens it and steps in with me.

It is a smaller room than theirs, but it is nice. It has a big bed with black sheets, and the walls are white. There are two blue lights illuminating the room. There is a bookshelf filled with only two books, and there is a door right beside it. I assume it is the bathroom. There is a dresser beside the bed and a couch on the wall closest to the door.

"Thank you," I say, breathless. Is this what it feels like to have your own room? I cannot help but smile despite the ache in my cheeks, and I go to sit on the bed.

Tris follows me, and it is only then that I realize she has been carrying an extra set of clothes. She sets them beside me on the bed and smiles at me. "You look about my size," she explains. "And I assumed you wouldn't want to go shopping for a while. Your shower is in there-" she gestures towards the door "-and towels are already in there. I'm sure a hot shower would feel good, so why don't you take one? Four and I will be in our apartment if you need us, okay? Don't hesitate to come see us."

"What about Drake?" I blurt out the words and immediately regret them.

Tris gives me a funny look and a smirk appears on her lips. "He'll be in his apartment," she says matter-of-factly. "I'll show you where that is later, when you get yourself all cleaned up and pretty."

My face burns and I look away from her smirk. "No, it's not like… that…" I struggle to find words, but she only sets a hand on my shoulder.

"Emmie, it's okay," she says, her voice comforting. "I'm just kidding. Just relax, okay?"

I nod and give her a small smile. "Thank you," I say.

She smiles back at me before tossing the key on my bed and leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

I let out a big sigh and lean back until I fall onto the bed. The sheets are new and firm and they smell as if they have just been washed. After a while of staring at the ceiling, I decide to get up. I take the clothes and bring them into the bathroom with me. It is small and cramped, but it is better than anything I have ever had the privilege of having. I set the clothes on the counter, purposely avoiding looking in the mirror, and soon I am in the shower. At first, the water stings and irritates my scars, but after getting used to it, it is a welcome relief.

I do not know how long I stay in the shower, but by the time I get out, the water runs cold and my fingers are pruney. It feels good to be clean—this is probably the cleanest I have ever been—and I quickly put on the clothes Tris gave me. They are a little too big for me, but it is comforting to not have such clingy clothes as I did before. There is a hamper beside the toilet, and I lift the lid and throw my old clothes in it. I walk back out to the main room and sit quietly on the bed, unsure of what to do now.

I want to go to the training room and practice, but I know my body is not up for that yet. It is still bruised and scarred. And sore—so sore. I let out a deep breath as realization sets in: I am finally alone, and I am finally safe for the time being. I do not have to worry about Selena or Aaron or anyone else that posed a threat. I can sit here, on my own bed, and relax, just like Tris said. I shut my eyes and curl up on my side, finally able to process all of the things that have happened these few days. Days? Is that all this has been? It feels like weeks, if not months. As I am thinking of the events, my brain keeps getting stuck on one face. And that is the face I picture as I drift to sleep:

Drake.