Chapter 24

Tris

I cannot believe this. I have spent the last three days combing through racks upon racks of clothing, to finally come across something that Christina and I could agree on, and, yet, here I am, standing in front of the full length mirror in our bedroom, in a completely foreign, skimpy outfit.

"What the hell, Chris! I thought we agreed on those black jeans and top," I growl.

She swats the air. "Please. Those were much too conservative for a Dauntless party. I'm doing you a favor."

I just turn back towards the mirror and silently stew. Maybe she was right about the jeans and shirt being a bit too plain, but this is ridiculous. I am currently dressed in a black, low cut tank top. When put like that it doesn't sound that bad, but this thing was low cut, like if it weren't for the fact that I have no chest whatsoever, it would be completely inappropriate. Paired with that, I have black jeans, also similar, but they were much tighter than I am used to, and huge 'trendy' rips exposed my thighs all the way up. The black boots and heavy makeup that Christina had ended with gave me a sharp dangerous look.

On second look, the outfit is really quite similar to what I was going to wear anyways. And it makes me feel different. Hot. Dangerous. I wonder what my father would think if he saw me right now. He'd probably disown me. That makes me smile a bit- I'm still pissed at the way he acted when he figured out that Caleb and I didn't choose Abnegation. I'll have to thank Christina for this later.

Christina walks out, looking gorgeous as ever, and catches me appraising myself in the mirror again. "See? Told you you'd get used to it," She teased smugly. I stuck my tongue out at her, and grabbed my stuff, butterflies swirling in my stomach. I can feel it, this night is going to be something special.

By the time we get to the party, it is in full swing. Music blasts through the walls, which are almost pressed outward with the number of people in the dormitory, and people are dancing with a panicky urgency. The room itself seems to be swaying with the beat. A nervous energy bubbles into my veins, so potent that when Uriah steps out in front of us, I almost punch him, my training from Four kicking in.

A huge grin spreads across his face, "Hey, guys," He yelled over the pounding noise, leaning in so that we can catch the words. "Welcome to my brother's place. Booze is over there," He points to a table completely swamped by staggering, boisterous adolescents, "And I think Will and Al are over there, if you're looking for them."

"Okay, thanks," Christina shouts distractedly.

Uriah gives us one nod before scuttling off to the booze table to stop what looks like a fight brewing. Christina and I push our way through the dance floor. It's impossible. Like trying to push through a sweaty, pulsing, horny wall. We find that it easier if we move with the beat, too, and kind of dance our way over to the other side.

"Hey guys!" Christina yells when we get over to them.

They nod and smile in our direction. They both looked flushed, and a sheen of sweat plasters Will's blonde hair to this forehead.

"You guys were dancing without us," I accuse.

Al just shrugs. Will guiltily stares up at Christina, who shakes her head in mock annoyance.

"I'm going to get some drinks for us," She announces.

I sit down next to Al, and we start to chat about initiation, and just school, but I'm not really that into it. I mean, its nice that Al and I can talk like normal people again, rather than ignoring each other, however, I haven't seen Four yet, and its making me a little nervous. What if he decided he didn't want to come? Or already is with another girl?

"You okay?" Al shakes me from my daydreams.

"Oh yeah, just stressed." I offer weakly.

"You know what'll help with that?" He pauses dramatically, "Dancing!" He grabs me by the arm and drags me up to the dance floor.

We are on the edge of the floor when I remember that I have no idea how to dance. Al smiles widely and starts to sway to the jolting music, like a massive oak tree in a powerful storm. I follow his lead, cautiously swaying and watching the people around me. I close my eyes for a moment and let the beat of the music lead me instead. I let myself slip away and disappear into the music, letting it wrap around me a squeeze out all of the doubt. I distantly feel my limbs moving more surely, my hair falling in my eyes, a hand touching my elbow...?

I spin around. Four is standing behind me, an amused, slightly shocked look on his face. "I didn't know that you could dance," he yells over the music.

I shrug. I can feel my face turning red. I look over at Al who has stopped dancing, and looks disappointed. He gives me a nod and a smile, halfhearted smile, then stalks off the dance floor.

He smirks at my blush and begins pulling me off the dance floor. "Oh yeah, I got this for you," He announces, lifting up his other hand, which is holding onto a halfway empty bottle of liquor.

"Uh, thanks," I say nervously, appraising it. I've never had alcohol before, and frankly, I don't want to. I don't like that it makes you lose control of yourself, that it can make you not remember. I don't plan on drinking it.

He leads us over into a quieter corner. I notice that his gait is off, heavier and less graceful than usual. He turns around abruptly and squints at me. "You look good, Tris," He says taking a swig from the bottle, "You always do."

I blush even deeper. "Well, I can honestly say that you've looked better," I have noticed the distance in his gaze, the way that his usually tan, smooth skin looks sallow and sticky. "Maybe you should slow down with that," I gesture at the glass bottle. I can smell it from here.

He shrugs, "I can hold my alcohol," He promises.

Just then, a beautiful girl, no woman, walks over to us. She is tall, has gorgeous, long brown hair, a pretty face, and is dressed in a short black and white dress. "Hey, I'm Brittany, Candor." She purrs at Four. Like I'm not even there. She leans in and whispers something in Four's ear. He immediately pulls back.

"Excuse, me Bri-ttany," He slurs, "But you just interrupted a very nice conversation with my friend Tris, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave us alone and go find another guy for you to demean yourself with." He ended his little speech with a hiccup and turned back to me.

Brittany stormed away, indignant and hurt. "You could've been a little more subtle," I chastise him, confused but rather pleased; Four would rather just hang out with me than do-Lord knows what- with gorgeous Brittany.

He shrugs and takes another sip from the bottle. He suddenly breaks out into a giant grin, like he is going to say something. He opens his mouth, then suddenly turns around and vomits into a potted plant. The noise of the splashing, and gushing of the vomit makes me sick, though I haven't had anything to eat or drink in a while.

He turns around and looks only slightly embarrassed. "Should we get you home?" I offer.

He shakes his head adamantly. Then turns around again and throws up into the bushes.