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Chapter 36
Destined for Something More

MONDAY, OCTOBER 10, 2016 | 6:55 PM | FOUR

"I can't believe you didn't come. It was amazing, Four. It's like… sensory overload. I could see everything in a way I never have before, and the cold air on your face and the wind rushes past your ears like, it's deafening. Then the parachute opens and everything goes so quiet. You have to come next time. And bring a date." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Because the adrenaline rush, the night I had with Shauna after that―"

"Don't want to hear about that," I interrupt.

"Even if you don't want to hear it, you should come next time and take advantage," Zeke grins.

I'm having a drink with Zeke at his place to celebrate his birthday. Zeke turned 21 yesterday, and he went skydiving with Shauna, Tris and Uriah before they all went out to a bar. He says it was incredible. I say they're completely insane.

"Zeke," I say, "you will never, in a million years, get me to go skydiving with you. Hell would freeze over before I would ever jump out of a plane. And even then." I shake my head. "You all are lunatics."

"Why? It's safe."

I scoff. "Yeah, unless your parachute doesn't open. Equipment can malfunction, Zeke."

I have looked up the statistics, I know the relative safety of skydiving. Thirty deaths per year in the United States, with the additional risk of broken bones, dislocated limbs and, less frequently, spinal cord injuries, paralysis and traumatic brain injuries. I know that it's nearly as safe as childbirth. But the tendency toward multiple jumps per day increase the risk to an individual and I know that Zeke, Tris and the others jumped five times yesterday. If the equipment wasn't checked thoroughly enough for safety, if the parachute didn't deploy, if…

And that isn't the only risk Tris takes on a regular basis.

But this conversation isn't about Tris, it's about Zeke, I remind myself.

"Aw, I didn't know you cared so much," Zeke jokes. He raises an eyebrow. "Or maybe it's not me you're worried about." A grunt is my only response. "How's that going, anyway?"

"How is what going, Zeke?" I ask.

Zeke laughs. "You know what. Living with my brother and Tris."

"It's fine," I say automatically.

"Is it?" he asks.

"Why? Has Uriah said something?"

"Uriah doesn't like it when people argue, and he doesn't like it when Tris is upset."

I run my hand down my face. "I loved her, Zeke," I admit. "And she has changed so much, but I still care about her and she's just tempting fate." Zeke drinks his beer and doesn't reply. I clear my throat. "So, speaking of birthdays, Tris's is coming up. What death-defying stunt is she planning for that?"

Zeke chuckles. "Don't you two talk at all? The apartment isn't that big."

"Yeah, well, I think we have both been avoiding certain topics since our last argument."

In the couple of weeks since our screaming match, Tris and I have actually gotten along well, quickly falling back into an easy routine of mornings reading together on the couch if I don't have classes, and light banter as we watch late night television together after work. On the occasion that Uriah is home at the same time as Tris and me, sometimes we will even all play a card game together. But we both carefully avoid any mention of the stunts that she classes as "fun", and I really don't know what she has gotten up to on her days off, other than skydiving with Zeke.

"You sure you wanna know?" Zeke laughs. I shrug. "Bungee jumping."

I shudder. "Are you going with them?" I ask.

"Yep. So are a few others. I take it you aren't interested."

"Definitely not," I say, scowling.

The conversation moves on to other topics, like work, and school, and the boxing class I teach, which makes me think of the boy I invited to join for free, who I have learned is called Fernando. But in the back of my mind I can't get Tris's birthday out of my mind.

I also think about how she holds back from telling me all these things that Zeke knows about, like simple things, like her birthday plans. And I realize that even if I don't like it, I want her to trust me and talk to me. I want to be her friend. I want to be more than that, but I'll take real friendship over nothing.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 15, 2016 | 10:30 AM | TRIS

On Saturdays, I work in the evening, but Uriah works during the day. Sometimes I will go out with other friends; I get on especially well with Shauna's sister Lynn, so sometimes we will find something to do together. If I need to do some shopping, I go out with Christina, who reminds me quite a lot of Madison with her obsession with clothes and unending candor. Some weekends I hang out with Shauna at the apartment she shares with Zeke.

But today I don't have plans with anyone. Even Four isn't here, and from my spot on the couch with a book in my hand, I am surprised to find how much I miss his presence. I have grown accustomed to our quiet mornings together even if we often say little to one another. It used to be awkward and tense, but lately it has transformed into something comforting and reliable.

I don't know what to make of that. Several weeks have passed since the day that my carefully controlled interactions with Four devolved into a screaming match. He left, apparently to go to the gym, but I didn't see him or Uriah for the rest of the night. Uriah told me afterward that he had met up with a friend to get away from the strained atmosphere of the apartment, but I have no idea what Four got up to.

For the first few days after, Four and I barely spoke. Then on the third day, when I was reading on the couch as I do most mornings, Four sat down beside me with two mugs of hot chocolate. He made mine with a splash of cold milk, again remembering how I preferred my hot drinks from when we were younger. We sat there and read our books and didn't say anything. But when I was done reading, I cleared my throat and thanked him for the hot chocolate, and he smiled and welcomed me. And after that, it was like we had never fought.

After that, we stopped avoiding one another. I began to include him if I went to pick up some take away for dinner, and he would ask if I needed anything from the grocery store or pharmacy when he left to run an errand. We both stopped spending as much time holed up in our bedrooms. It seems maybe this living arrangement could work after all.

I put my book down and sigh, a little annoyed at the fact that I am missing Four's presence now. But I need a distraction. My birthday is coming up in two days. I will be nineteen years old, and it will be the third birthday that passes without my mom. I will spend tomorrow with Uriah, and I don't know what he has planned. But, in the meantime, time alone is only allowing the melancholy to seep into my awareness.

I miss my mother, and I hope she would be proud of me.

I sit with my book in my lap, letting memories wash over me, replaying precious words spoken to me as I cuddled next to her in the hospital bed. Yes, I tell myself. Mom would be proud of me. Just like Uriah always tells me she would be.

Last year on my birthday, I sat at her grave and told her of all the adventures of the previous year, all the things she would have loved to hear about. And I wish I could do the same now. I would have so much to tell her.

Relief washes over me when I hear the front door open and Four walks in. "Hey," he says. "Are you free today?"

I raise my eyebrows. "Yes," I say, a bit cautious at the hopeful look on his face. "What's up?"

He smiles. "A little birthday surprise."

I didn't know where Four would take me, but I never would have guessed that he would pull up in front of a tattoo parlor. I can't help the smile that creeps onto my face. Though I have pierced both my lip and belly button, and I was present when Uriah had a snake tattooed behind his ear, my own skin is still free of ink. It isn't that I have ever been opposed to getting a tattoo, I just hadn't decided what I would want to permanently brand my skin.

I hop out of the car. "Tattoos," I say as I shut the door.

"Yeah," Four says. I see his hand flinch toward me as we start toward the shop's door, but he quickly lets it drop. "I told you about Amar, and his boyfriend, George, right?" I nod. "Well, his sister owns this place. They've always kind of looked out for me, ever since Amar has been gone."

The bell chimes as we walk in, and Shauna grins at me from behind the desk before she comes out to hug me. I knew she worked at a tattoo parlor, I guess this must be how George met Zeke and knew to introduce him to Four.

"So he talked you into it," Shauna says, smiling.

I shrug. "Not really. He just said he had a birthday surprise for me, made me curious what it was."

"Well," Shauna says, "you can look around if you want, let me know if you need any help. Tori will be ready for you in a few minutes."

Four stands back with his arms crossed as I walk along the perimeter, trailing my fingers over drawings of flowers and snakes, tribal symbols and the odd landscape, thinking about what I want my tattoo to mean. Thinking again about my mother. I stop in front of the silhouette of a bird in flight, solid black, and trace my fingers over it, remembering something I saw only a few times. My mother had a tattoo, a bird much like this one. It was on her ribcage, a few inches below her armpit, usually hidden by her clothing. But a few times, when she took Caleb and me swimming, I saw a glimpse of it when she raised her arms over her head.

"It's a raven," a voice behind me says. "Pretty, right?"

I turn to see the woman standing there. She is probably about ten years older than me, with long hair in dreadlocks, black with streaks of silver.

"Well, hello there. I'm Tori." She smiles. "And you must be Tris. I've heard a lot about you." I glance at Four, who looks away, but I also see Shauna smiling behind him. "Want a tattoo?"

I think again of my mother, of the same memories that replayed in my head earlier this morning. I can honor my mother with this mark to my skin, and keep a reminder of her near me always. It will place another wedge between me and my father and brother but I know that what I have in mind would make Mom smile.

"Yes," I say. "Two of these flying birds. And ― do you have a pen and paper?"

My wrist is sore, but I smile softly as I look at the new marks there before allowing Tori to bandage it. Two solid black ravens fly slightly apart from one another across the skin of my inner wrist, and below the script reads, "destined for something more," a reminder of one of my last conversations with my mom. The skin around it is red and puffy, but I know that once it heals, it will be beautiful. And I will never regret it.

Tori gives me instructions on aftercare, all of it familiar from when Uriah got his tattoo. She sits on a stool facing me. While she tattooed my skin, Tori asked about how I was settling in here, and Four came up more than once.

"Well," Tori says, "it has been a pleasure to meet you, Tris, and to finally put a face to the name."

I hesitate before asking the question that has been on my mind since moments after meeting Tori. "You said you've heard a lot about me."

"Yes," Tori says, giving nothing else away.

"Was it…" I look away for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Has Four been talking a lot about me or something?"

I am nervous for her answer. Things are finally becoming easier between Four and me, but there is so much history. Sometimes he will reach out like he is going to take my hand, or lead me with his hand low on my back. He always catches himself, but I fear that he still hopes to get back what we lost, and that would only complicate things. I can't go there with him. Not just because of Uriah, but because he has broken my trust and I am not sure it can be repaired.

Tori looks thoughtful. "He has," she says. "I know it was a shock for you to see him again. It was equally surprising for him to run into you, as well."

I bite my lip. I have been so wrapped up in how I feel about Tobias ― Four ― barging back into my life, I never really thought about how he felt about the situation. After all, he had a choice in our separation. I didn't.

"I didn't really think about how it would affect him," I admit.

"He's trying to make things right with you, Tris," she says gently. "I know it's not easy. You have both changed, and he knows that. But maybe you could give him a chance."

I acknowledge her words with a nod. "I'm trying to," I mumble.

I show my tattoo to Four and Shauna when I reach the front desk. Shauna coos about how beautiful it is, and Four nods his approval. "What does it mean?" Four asks, his dark blue eyes full of curiosity and sincerity.

It takes me a moment to come up with my answer. Because this tattoo is so personal to me, its meaning so near to my heart, and I am not sure there is anyone I will fully explain it to, besides Uriah.

"It's a reminder," I say, "of a day I never want to forget." There is an air of finality in my words and voice, and Shauna and Four do not press further.

Shauna and Tori talk for a moment before Shauna goes to the register, Four following.

"You really don't have to pay, Four," I protest. I know tattoos aren't cheap, and this doesn't feel right to me.

"Nonsense," Four replies. "This is for your birthday, Tris."

"It's too much," I argue.

"No, it isn't," Four says. "I missed two years that I need to make up for."

"Besides," Shauna interrupts, "Tori gives him a good discount."

I relent, even though I feel like it is against my better judgment. But I'm trying to let Four be a part of my life again, and I suppose accepting a birthday gift is a part of that.

And I realize that even if he is trying to win back my friendship and my trust, this time is different. Until now, Four would buy me paints, remembering a hobby that I haven't practiced since shortly after he left. Or he would bring home Swedish meatballs from IKEA, not knowing that I got sick after eating them a year ago and haven't been able to stand the sight and smell of them since. But not this time.

For the first time, I feel like Four is beginning to see and accept me as I am now, instead of who I was then, and I think maybe, just maybe, we can become friends again after all.