Chapter 25
Future Plans

SATURDAY, MAY 21, 2016 | 8:30 PM | TRIS

Within moments of entering the Pedrads' home, Zeke is thrusting a beer into my hands. "Your mom is out tonight, I take it?" I laugh.

"Yeah," he grins. "Working the graveyard shift tonight. Or else I would have had this little celebration yesterday, when it should have been."

I roll my eyes. "We were out with our friends last night, anyway."

Zeke is in town for the weekend. Yesterday, Uriah and I officially became high school graduates. We're now done with required attendance and tests and homework, nagging teachers and stuck-up cheerleaders. No one really gave me any trouble, thanks to already having an in with Uriah's group, but I'm glad to be free of the whole scene nonetheless.

"Schmoopy!" Uriah calls as he comes out of the hallway and into the living room. "Now the party can begin!"

"Not much of a party with just three of us," I laugh.

"Psh, it's always a party when you mix the Pedrad brothers and alcohol," Uriah brags.

"True, little bro," Zeke chuckles, "but actually, not everyone is here yet."

"Who are we missing?" I ask, puzzled.

"You don't know? I thought he would have mentioned that I invited him." Zeke claps his hands and rubs them together conspiratorially. "Guess it'll be a surprise, then." I look to Uri but he just shrugs and rolls his eyes, grin never leaving his face. "We have things to discuss, anyway. Specifically, these plans you have to come be near the Party Master, AKA yours truly." He points at himself with both thumbs.

"Ah, yes, what's going on with that, Zeke?" I ask. "I know Uriah asked you to find us somewhere to live and I haven't heard a word about it since."

Zeke has been home several times since his new roommate moved in about a year and a half ago. We last saw him at Christmas, and that was when we explained our plans to move to Portland after graduation. But Uriah and I don't know the area or anyone there besides Zeke and his girlfriend Shauna, who he brought with him to Chicago when he spent a week at home last summer. We won't have jobs lined up in advance before arriving there, so we need Zeke to find us someone needing a new roommate or two.

"Yeah," Zeke scratches the back of his neck, "well, I did find a solution to that. Shauna helped." He grins and wiggles his eyebrows.

"I don't even want to know what that little eyebrow wag was about," I tease.

"Ha! Well, here's the plan. Shauna and I have decided to move in together."

"What?!" Uriah shouts. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother? Never thought you'd settle down this quick."

Zeke rolls his eyes. "It's just an apartment, not like we're getting married."

"Well, I'm happy for you, Zeke," I say. "Concerned for Shauna, though. Like, worried for her mental health. What is she thinking, voluntarily putting up with you that much of the time?"

"You know, maybe I'll go back to this friend of mine and tell him he doesn't want to live with you, Trissy," Zeke says. "You're just mean."

"The truth hurts," Uriah says.

Zeke sticks out his lip, pouting.

"Okay, okay, so," Uriah interrupts, "have you found us a place to live or not?"

"Of course," Zeke says in mock offense. "Oh ye of little faith. Yeah, so, I'm going to move in with Shauna, but the thing is, her roommate isn't moving out until the end of July. So, you're free to move in sometime in August."

"Move in?" I ask, while also internally groaning. That means two extra months living not only with Dad, but also with Caleb, who just got home from college for the summer and is working for Jeanine Matthews again.

Zeke rolls his eyes. "Yes. Into my apartment. You guys will take my room in my current apartment, and Four won't be stuck paying the rent and utilities on his own. Win-win for everyone."

"Four," I mutter. "Do we at least get to know this guy's real name before we live with him? No parent would seriously name their kid 'Four'." Zeke has talked about his roommate, Four, each time he's been home since the guy moved in, so in a way I feel like I know him...but at the same time, I realize I know almost nothing about him. Not his real name, where he's from... nothing substantial, though I do know that he goes to the same college as Zeke and they both study computer science.

Zeke laughs. "Whenever someone asks if it's his real name or a nickname, he just says, 'It's my name.' I assume it's a nickname but I honestly have no idea what his real name is. He's kinda private, but he's a really good guy." He snaps his fingers. "Oh, I know! I'll find a photo so you don't feel like you're going in blind."

Zeke pulls out his phone and scrolls through his photos while I go to the kitchen and grab another bottle of beer for each of us, plus an extra for the mystery guest who should be joining us soon. When I get back, Zeke's eyebrows are drawn together and his tongue is stuck between his teeth. It reminds me of the way the tip of Uriah's tongue sticks out the side of his mouth when he is concentrating.

"You've lived with the guy for over a year, Zeke. How hard is it to find a photo?" Uriah ribs his brother.

Zeke shakes his head. "It's so weird. Every single picture, he's somehow managed to end up out of the frame. But hey, would a photo of his back help you any?" Zeke holds up his phone and points at a figure in the background. Tall, tan skin and close-cropped dark hair, and a tattoo is barely visible peeking out the neckline of his shirt.

"Oh thanks, now I know exactly what he looks like," I say sarcastically, laughing under my breath. A knock sounds at the front door.

"Oh well," Zeke shrugs as he gets up to answer the door, his own beer in one hand and carrying the extra bottle in the other. "Guess it'll just have to be a surprise!"

He opens the door and my jaw drops in shock and dread. Uriah groans and scrubs his hands over his face. "Well, I hope it's a better surprise than this one," I mutter.

"Me too," Uriah agrees.

At the front door, Zeke is enthusiastically greeting Caleb and has already shoved the bottle of beer at him. Caleb takes it, looking stunned. When Zeke tries to give him a fist bump Caleb stands there as if he has no idea what to do and leaves Zeke hanging. What the hell was Zeke thinking inviting my brother here?

"Man," Zeke says, walking away from Caleb and back to the couch. "You'd better start catching up."

I cringe and try to hide my bottle under the coffee table, but Caleb has already seen it and is giving me his look of disapproval. He perfected it years ago.

"Don't let him bother you," Uriah says to me quietly. "This is our celebration. Zeke can deal with Caleb, it's his fault the goody two shoes is here."

I consider his words and nod resolutely. "You're right. Go get something stronger and start a drinking game. Maybe we can even get him drunk enough to make him fun."

"You sure he's even capable of having fun?" Uriah asks, sounding dubious.

I laugh. "Not sure at all, but there's only one way to find out."

Zeke has been trying to talk Caleb into having a drink for the past half-hour. I finally discreetly swiped the beer sitting in front of Caleb still untouched, which I ended up having to hurry a bit to finish before it got any warmer. I know Zeke isn't going to give up on Caleb anytime soon, plus if Caleb drinks, too, he's less likely to rat me out to Dad. He won't be 21 until January.

"Caleb, come on," I goad. "We graduated last night, don't be such a party pooper. Nobody's driving anywhere tonight, Hana doesn't mind if we sleep here." The stare of disapproval is less severe than it was earlier; Zeke has worn him down just enough. "Look, how about I make you a rum and coke. I'll make it really weak."

I keep eye contact and patiently wait for my brother to cave. I figure it's a 50/50 shot. I see the change in his face the moment he gives in. "Fine. But keep it weak. I still don't approve of you drinking, B-Tris," he stumbles over my name and quickly catches himself seeing my death glare. "I want to stay sober enough to keep an eye on you. And you better make yours just as weak as mine."

I roll my eyes. "Yes, Dad," I snark as I get up to go to the kitchen, and Uriah follows me in. I pour Caleb's and my drinks, making sure to keep straight which is which; I agreed with Caleb to placate him, but I'm celebrating and don't want a weak drink like his. Uriah pours drinks for himself and Zeke, both just a little stronger than my own.

When we're back in the living room and everyone has their drink cups, Zeke clears his throat.

"I propose that we play a drinking game. I think the new graduates should choose. Truth or dare, or Never Have I Ever?"

"Never Have I Ever," I call out before Uriah begins to speak. Seems like the safer choice with Caleb here. When I showed him my motorcycle yesterday, he scolded me about my supposed recklessness.

"Alright! Tris got to chose, so big man over here can start," Zeke says, clapping Uriah's shoulder.

"Uh, wait," Caleb says. "I don't know this game."

Zeke looks stunned and I roll my eyes at my brother.

"Oh. It's simple," Zeke says. "You say something you've never done, or hell, something you have done if you want to, and everyone who has done it has to drink."

"You should have the advantage of inexperience in this game, Caleb," I chuckle. My brother doesn't do much else but study. What a boring way to live life.

"Okay," Uriah says, anxious to get started. "Never have I ever―" he pauses and eyes Caleb. "Never have I ever earned a college credit."

Caleb, Zeke and I all drink. "Really, Uri," I scold. "Couldn't you have worded it differently? Now I have to drink." I earned eight college credits this year in my AP classes.

Zeke is next. "Never have I ever been skydiving."

Uri and I both drink. "Pansycake," Uriah teases his brother. "You've got to try it sometime, it's amazing."

Caleb's eyes go wide and the color drains from his face. "Seriously, Tris?!" he gasps.

I shrug. "Perfectly safe. Well, safe enough. We went just a few days ago for Uri's 18th birthday."

Two hours later, we are seated around the kitchen table. Uriah sits next to me with a hand on my leg; Caleb is across from me, attempting to rebuild the Jenga block tower he just knocked over.

Caleb can hardly stay on his feet. Each time he has finished a drink, I have made the next one stronger than the last. He hasn't even noticed the incremental changes. I can only hope he forgets everything he's learned tonight. We've moved onto playing Jenga. Zeke has decided to make this a drinking game as well, and every time one of us removes a plank from the tower, the person has to take another big sip of their drink. It's fun as a drinking game because the more you drink, the harder it is to keep your hand steady. Caleb has knocked the whole thing over twice now.

"Aren't you in college, Caleb?" Zeke asks with a confused look on his face.

"Yep," Caleb says proudly. "Just finished my sophomore year at Harvard. I'm pre-med."

"Huh," Zeke says. "So… what do you do? I mean, for fun? They don't have parties there?"

I stifle a laugh. "I don't think it would matter where Caleb was going to school," I say. "Fun is a foreign concept to him."

"Yeah, why didn't you tell me that before I invited him?" Zeke asks.

"Hey! I can be fun!" Caleb protests. I totally ignore him.

"Why didn't you ask me before you invited him?" I counter. "Besides, he's been surprisingly entertaining now that he's wasted."

Uriah's hand inches up my thigh. We aren't the type to make out in the school hallway like many other couples our age, though we both enjoy cuddling. But Uriah tends to get more handsy when he's had a lot to drink. And we both are after any sort of adrenaline rush.

"Can we invite Susan over?" Caleb asks with the excitement at his idea clear in his voice.

"I knew it!" I shout, pointing a finger at him. I suspected he and Susan had something going on long ago. "How long has that been happening?"

Caleb opens his mouth as if he's about to answer, but suddenly he gets a strange look on his face, tries to get up quickly, and stumbles. The next thing I know Caleb is on his hands and knees emptying the contents of his stomach all over the kitchen floor.

"You're on clean-up duty, Zeke," I say firmly after Uriah shows Caleb to the bathroom and goes to get him some clothes to change into.

"He's your brother," Zeke whines in protest.

"And he's your guest," I reply before going to make sure Uriah doesn't need help with my extremely wasted big brother.

SUNDAY, MAY 29, 2016 | 6:45 PM | TRIS

"What the hell, Beatrice?!" Caleb bellows as he storms into my room. I look up from my clothes sorting task. I'm disappointed that Uriah and I won't be able to move to Portland for a few months longer than we had hoped, so I am going through my stuff and getting rid of things to make the task of packing easier later. It cheers me up a little.

I stare at my brother blankly. "No idea," I say, "since you haven't told me what you're so upset about."

"Why do you have this?" Caleb demands, holding out a box that has long been forgotten: the extra Morning After Pill that Zeke bought me almost two years ago. I remember that it was buried deep in the back of the bathroom cabinet behind a box of tampons.

I snatch it out of his hands. "How did you find this?" I shout back. "Why are you going through my stuff?"

And to my horror, just as he snatches it back, Dad walks into my bedroom. He must have heard us yelling. "Find what?" he asks sounding angry before he even sees what I have. Caleb takes advantage of my distraction and snatches it back, then hands it to Dad.

"Plan B. The morning after pill. Tris keeps that bathroom cabinet packed full of her crap and it was a mess so I decided to clean it out," Caleb says. "This expired months ago, Tris. You've had it a long time. Just how long have you been whoring yourself around?"

"You don't get to talk about me that way," I hiss. "And it's none of your fucking business."

"Language, Beatrice," Dad scolds. He shakes his head. "I just don't know what to do with you."

"Dad, do you realize what all she has been getting up to?!" Caleb exclaims. "I knew about the snowboarding and the surfing arrest and the motorcycle, and Susan told me about how she was sneaking around with Tobias Eaton for years, but my god. Skydiving, jumping off cliffs, street races, I even found out she has body piercings. Planning to move across the country with that boyfriend of hers. Marcus Eaton has spotted her outside of clubs in the middle of the night." Wait, what? How does Caleb know about that? "And now she's just keeping Plan B around as if she could need it at any time!"

"I was just trying to be responsible," I grumble.

"Responsible!" Caleb scoffs. "You've got to be kidding me, Beatrice. You're insane."

"I'm not crazy, I'm just not completely boring like you are, Caleb. Oh, by the way, Dad, your perfect son was completely wasted the other night, FYI."

"I didn't drink half as much as you did," Caleb argues, glaring at me. As if I wasn't going to bring it up when he spilled so many of the things I have kept hidden.

"Enough!" Dad shouts. "Caleb, thank you. This has been… enlightening. Move along, I need to speak to your sister in private. You and I will talk about your own choices later." Dad doesn't stop glaring at me the whole time he speaks. Caleb smirks at me and marches out the door with his arms crossed over his chest and Dad closes the door behind him.

"Sit down, Beatrice," he commands.

I really wish he would quit calling me that. But I obey anyway. Dad paces back and forth across the room.

"I just don't know what to do with you Beatrice," he starts, shaking his head. "There is just too much of your mother in you. She was almost as wild as you are when we were young. It was fascinating to me at the time, I got so wrapped up in it, but you cannot live your life this way, Beatrice. You'll ruin your life, this―" he shakes the little box in his hand at me. "You shouldn't even have reason to have this on hand!"

"I'm eighteen years old, Dad."

"Yes, well, so was your mother! And now you want to move, with that punk? To where?!" He shakes his head. "Taking a year off before college is bad enough, but Beatrice! You're going to end up knocked up, just like your mother did. Who knows if he will even stick by you!"

"Wait… what?!" I say in shock.

"You know how young your mother was, Beatrice. She was only nineteen when Caleb was born. You really didn't think we could have planned for our lives to go that way, did you? You've become reckless to be with that boy, just like I did when I met your mother, and I ended up hurting Jeanine and raising children before I was really ready to."

"What? Jeanine?!" I echo. Dad just waves me off.

"I cannot allow this to continue, Beatrice. I should have done something about you sooner, but I won't continue to let this go. Jeanine will be running another round of that drug trial soon, an improved version. You can join that."

"Like hell I will," I mutter.

"Oh, yes, you will. You will, Beatrice. You will stay here in Chicago, you will get the medication you need to get your mental health in order―"

"There's nothing wrong with my mental health!"

"―whether you do it willingly or not. If necessary, I will find a way to have you deemed unfit to look after yourself, for your own safety. This will stop!" Dad punctuates the last word with his hand slapping the top of my dresser. I feel like I am going to be sick as he storms out of the room.

MONDAY, MAY 30, 2016 | 11:40 AM | URIAH

It has been a crazy morning. I was looking forward to sleeping in, but Tris called and woke me up at 8:15 AM begging me to come over and help her pack. I didn't understand why, when we aren't planning to leave for a couple months yet, but she was insistent that she needed to get it done now, "while they're gone to work."

"They," it turned out, were her dad and brother. Her explanation of what happened yesterday was jumbled, but eventually I managed to piece it together: her brother found the extra morning after pill that Zeke apparently bought her after our drunken first time together, then ratted her out not only about that, but a lot of what was revealed in our drinking game, as well. Then her dad demanded that she take medications to fix her "mental health" and threatened to have her declared unfit.

She's panicked. So panicked, that I am helping her pack up everything she owns so she can get out of this house before the end of the work day.

"This is the last box of books," I tell her as I close it with packing tape.

"I think we're almost done. Just that top shelf in the closet," she says as she drags a stool over so she can reach the shelf.

I lean against the wall and chuckle. "What're you doing, Mighty Mouse?" She glares at me for the nickname. I love it because it always gets a reaction. Besides, it suits her. She is tiny, but she is certainly fierce. "Want some help?"

"Fine," she says, pretending to be annoyed.

I start handing things down to her. "So, as you said, we're almost done. But, where are we taking this stuff?"

Tris bites her lip. "I called your mom this morning. She said I can keep them in a corner of the garage and she'll put them in her pod thing when she moves to Seattle. Then we can borrow Zeke's truck and go get them. Besides, we're donating half of it. It's just a few boxes. Everything I really need is in the suitcase." She sighs. "We'll have to tell her about our idea, though."

Tris wants not just to leave home, but to get out of Chicago entirely, as soon as possible. At one point, before we settled on Portland, we talked about traveling for a while. But first she wiped out half her savings account with the court fees, and I spent half the last year working at a gas station to pay Mom back as well. Then Tris bought her bike; it was a lot cheaper than she had originally planned because it needed work. I helped her fix it up, but in the process, buying parts ate up a few hundred more.

So, because we will both need jobs fairly soon after leaving Chicago, Tris and I had decided against the traveling idea. Until now.

Tris was up late last night researching and discovered that free camping is available, for up to fourteen days at a time, at various public lands run by the Bureau of Land Management and the U.S. Forest Service. As soon as she explained, I got excited about the whole idea, imagining all the trails we could hike, waterfalls we could leap from, and rivers we could fish and swim. I think my favorite thing about this plan might be that there really is no plan. No itinerary, no big set expectations, just Tris and me exploring whatever is in our path for the next two months or so.

"Mom shouldn't be a problem," I say as I tape the bottom of another box so Tris can fill it with photo albums and other sentimental stuff. "She'll probably think it's a great idea. She's really happy that we're going to be so close by."

My mom secured a spot in a master's program in Seattle, and a nursing job working nights at a hospital nearby. It's still a few hours drive from Portland, where Zeke lives, but close enough to visit once in a while.

A few minutes later I find that we have packed everything except a large shoebox that Tris is holding in her hands and staring at. I swallow hard when I realize that I've seen it before. It's the box from the bonfire, the one I kept her from throwing into the fire. The box filled with her memories of her first love, Tobias.

Slowly, Tris removes the rubberband that has been holding it tightly closed and lifts the lid off the box.

"I haven't opened this box in a long time," she says quietly.

"Since the bonfire?" I ask.

Tris bites her lip. "No. I looked through it one more time after that… after that night that Tobias called. The first time, when I talked to him, remember?"

Of course I remember.

Tris holds out a charm bracelet. "He gave this to me for my sixteenth birthday. Our first kiss was on the ferris wheel at Navy Pier."

It clicks, after two years of knowing her, it finally clicks. "That's why you don't like ferris wheels." Still. To this day.

"Right," she sighs. She starts pulling things out and showing them to me, telling me the stories behind them. It's the first time I have seen a photo of Tobias, other than a small glimpse at the picture at the top of the stack, in the dim light from the bonfire nearly two years ago. My stomach drops seeing how happy she is in the photos with him. But a lot has changed for Tris in these last few years, and it has changed her. Really, the best comfort is the knowledge that even if he returns to Chicago, she won't be here. She will be with me, far away from this place. Far away from her brother and her dad, and Marcus Eaton, and her connection to Tobias.

"Is it wrong that I want to keep this stuff?" Tris asks me quietly as she puts the lid back on the box.

"Of course not, Tris," I answer. "You loved him. Our experiences make us who we are, it's okay to want to keep your memories with you."

Tris smiles at me ― a smile that isn't masking her sadness as well as she probably hopes ― and places the Tobias box inside the bigger box with the rest of her keepsakes. We seal it up and cheer.

"Now let's hurry," Tris says, checking her watch. "Caleb could be home in a couple hours and I think this will take more than one trip."

"Ready whenever you are," I tell her, brushing aside my jealousy at Tobias. He doesn't matter, he's the past, and my girl and I are stepping into our future.

A/N: Guys, the next chapter is the one you've all been waiting for. Tris and Four will meet again. Thanks for sticking with me this far!