A/N: I didn't think I would have this ready until tomorrow or the next day. Big thanks to Broadwayfan3217 for spending a bit of her birthday looking it over for me!

I love hearing what you think... so if you have a moment at the end of this chapter, please leave me a review! Thanks for reading, and for being patient with my sporadic update schedule!


Chapter 46
And Auld Lang Syne

Previously:

I stand there, lips parted, feeling almost in shock. Four steps back and buries his hands in his pockets. His face is tinged with pink, right up to the tips of his ears. If the heat in my cheeks is anything to go by, I'm sure I'm blushing just as hotly. I clear my throat, my eyes darting around the room to look anywhere else but at Four. I finally settle on Christina's face, wide-eyed and jaw dropped.

"And you didn't want to kiss him," she mutters, cocking an eyebrow.

I look around and find that Christina is not the only one staring at us. Will is smirking, Shauna appears to be somewhere between happy and shocked, and that guy Brad from the Jenga game is scowling.

This is not what I wanted tonight. I wanted to escape, like I did at that first party I went to with Uriah, the one where I took on the carefree persona of Tris. Things aren't supposed to be so complicated for Tris, this wasn't supposed to happen. All of my feelings for my first love were supposed to be buried with the name Beatrice.

"I'm just gonna..." I start, but I trail off and swallow, having no idea what excuse to give. I can't think over all the thoughts swimming in my head and the creeping panic building in my chest. I just want to run away from Four, and from these gawking people, and even from myself and these stupid feelings that keep cropping back up.

So, without explanation, I turn and push my way between people and disappear into the crowd.


SATURDAY, DECEMBER 31, 2016 | 10:45 PM | TRIS

The party has become more crowded as the night goes on, making it harder and harder to push through the throng of guests. I am bumped and jostled as I wade through the sea of people. If I were at a concert, this would only add to the high that comes with a rush of adrenaline, but not tonight. There is already a band around my chest that comes with the panic I feel from that kiss. I am not usually claustrophobic, but tonight the crowded atmosphere is a boa constrictor squeezing the breath out of me.

That kiss. Contradictory feelings rush through me, flood me, all whirling and mixing together and going out of focus so I cannot grasp one long enough to identify it before the next sweeps through.

That kiss. The truth is, I liked it. I got lost in it. If Tobias ― no, Four, he's Four now ― had not pulled back, we might still be liplocked in that doorway.

That kiss. I wasn't supposed to like it. I wasn't supposed to want it. But I did. I do. And that is the problem.

The more I think about it, the more the panic consumes me.

I look everywhere, stand on my tiptoes to see over people's shoulders. There is one person who can always calm me, bring me back to reality, and I need him now. I search for the familiar dark curls and bright, round chocolate brown eyes. Uriah will know what to do, what to say. He always knows what I need and he never lets me down.

When I finally spot him, I stop dead in my tracks.

It's not that he and Marlene are doing anything shocking or inappropriate. Not at all. It's the way they stand with so little distance between them… the adoration and devotion I see in her face as she looks up into his eyes… the tenderness and affection when he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. They are already in love, and this is the first chance they have had to really express it, or to let the world in on the secret. No matter how much I need my best friend, I can't get in the middle of that.

And that is when I am drowned in a tidal wave of swirling emotions. While I am still happy for him, I feel a sense of loss, deep in my gut. With it comes shame, wondering when I came so disgustingly selfish, because I don't want to share him. For two and a half years, he has been unequivocally mine... even though I know I have never looked at him with the reverence I see in Marlene's eyes.

In one hour, they will kiss to ring in their first New Year together. If I can't handle this right now… I certainly cannot witness that. I realize that he was right and I don't love him in the way he deserves, but as a friend and companion.

But it still hurts.

I back away, bumping into someone. Mumbling an apology without even a glance behind me to see the person I collided with, I edge my way through the crowd. I just have to get out of here. I just want to go home.

No one seems to notice as I gather up my coat and purse. I am yards away from the door when a broad chest blocks my way. Looking up into a handsome face, I see that guy Brad from the Jenga game.

"Tris," he says, a winning smile on his face. "A bunch of us were going to play Cards Against Humanity. Come on, it will be fun, we're playing it as a drinking game."

He grabs my hand and starts to tug me back into the crowd. I dig my heels in and yank my hand away. Brad stops and looks back at me with a hurt stamped across his face, like a kicked puppy.

"Thanks, but I'll pass. I gotta…" I trail off. My mind scrambles for an excuse but comes up blank. I shake my head and back away. "I'll see you around."

I rush out the front door with him calling after me, grateful when he does not follow.


The walk home is quiet. The cold December air bites at my nose and I pull my gray knit hat further down over my ears. Uriah and I spent many nights in Chicago in colder weather than this, hanging out for hours out in his treehouse, but I don't think of any of those nights. My mind wanders further into the past.

I remember a clandestine meeting in a park on cold Chicago night.

I remember snowflakes stuck to long eyelashes that frame the deepest, bluest eyes.

I remember his body heat warming me as he held me in his arms, the two of us swaying to an old love song playing from the tinny speaker of his cell phone.

I remember my swooping stomach and the tingles that traveled throughout my body, all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes.

I remember the love that overpowered and overwhelmed me in every moment I spent with him.

I remember the brush of his lips against mine, soft and just a little chapped.

My fingers touch my lips. I not only remember the feeling of his kiss from years gone… but I can still feel the ghost of them from that kiss under the mistletoe not half an hour ago. And my stomach still swooped, my fingers and toes still tingled, even after the years apart.

Even after everything that happened between us, and everything that didn't.

Why does he still consume me this way? Why can't my heart let him go? I try to ignore it, I push the feelings back, I refuse to admit it. But I can't fool myself better than I do anyone else. Those feelings are still there. I still care for Tobias… so much.

No, not just that ― I don't just love Tobias. He has changed, grown into his new identity, just as I have grown into mine. And I have come to care for Four, as the person he is now.

It scares the hell out of me.

I like to think that I am a person who learns from my mistakes. My mistake so long ago, when I was a different person, was my naivety, my blind trust. How can I look past that?

I could try.

But should I?

I shake my head as I climb the stairs to the apartment, trying to clear any not-so-platonic thoughts of Four from my mind. Letting myself into the apartment, I drop my purse on the kitchen table but leave my jacket and hat on as I make a beeline for the kitchen. There are two cans of Pabst in the fridge; I grimace at the poor drink selection but grab them both anyway before making my way to the balcony. I plug in the string of small white Christmas lights that Four helped me to put up a month ago, bathing the small porch in a soft glow. Music and the muffled murmur of voices drifts by me from a party in a nearby home, providing just enough ambient noise to feel comforting.

Our balcony wasn't built for the view; it overlooks SE 28th Avenue, which is not an unpleasant sight, but there isn't much to see here. Still, it is a nice little neighborhood and I have made it my home. Living here, there's this feeling that has crept up and grown inside me, like my feet are finally on the ground again. It's a sense of belonging that my mother had seemed to take with her when she left me.

The shift in my friendship with Uriah scares me, makes me afraid that I will be knocked off balance again, and that's why I ran tonight. But now that I am sitting still and quiet, sipping cheap beer in the peaceful calm, I realize something.

My feet are still on the ground.


SATURDAY, DECEMBER 31, 2016 | 11:35 PM | FOUR

With the bottle of Johnnie Walker red label tucked under my arm, I rub my hands together in an attempt to warm my fingers before I fish my keys out of my jacket pocket. If I were superstitious, I would cross my fingers. But I'm not, so I just say a silent prayer, begging to find Tris in the apartment. I turn the key in the lock and push open the door.

I had been trying to keep an eye on Tris all night. Throughout the day I kept remembering how reckless and out of control Tris had been during other particularly emotional times since moving here. The more I thought about it, the more worried I became; she and Uriah just broke up a few days ago and the way she locked herself in her bedroom last night did not inspire much confidence. So throughout the party, I tried to be discreet as I kept her in my line of sight. But then we ended up under the mistletoe together.

The kiss was passionate and longing and... fucking amazing. It left me dazed, but a sick feeling crept into my stomach as I watched her walk away. The last time we kissed, she avoided me for weeks, and we had only just gotten past that disastrous argument on Christmas Day. All my instincts screamed at me to go after her, but I knew she would want space. If she were to catch me following her, my vigilance would not be appreciated.

I held myself back for about fifteen minutes before I ventured out of the kitchen to look for Tris, but I could not find her anywhere. I started to ask around, but no one knew where she had gone. I was about to interrupt Uriah's date with Marlene when I decided to ask a group of people who I found getting wasted while playing a card game. Brad was among them.

When Brad informed me that Tris had left the party, I was annoyed that he was the one who knew what had happened. Brad and I know one another from the computer engineering program we both attend at Portland State and we usually get along well. But I saw the way he was looking at her earlier in the night. It was obvious that he was interested, and he has a reputation as a bit of a player. I'm not letting anyone take advantage of Tris when she is on the rebound, let alone someone like Brad Cooper.

I knew I had to go after her, but the problem was that Brad had no idea where Tris had gone, only that she had left.

I turn the key and slowly open the door. My heart falls when I find the apartment is dark. The only sounds come from a party in one of the downstairs apartments. I had hoped to walk in and find the living room lit up and Tris in front of her easel, but no such luck. Her current work-in-progress remains untouched, sitting on the easel in shadow, appearing to be striped with narrow strips of soft yellow light from the balcony.

I straighten. The balcony! There is light coming from the balcony! I know Tris and I had not left the Christmas lights on out there when we left for the party. Sighing with relief, I walk quickly to the glass door. Through the slats of the vertical blinds, I see her there sitting on one of the old pool chairs Zeke got from who-knows-where, a beer in hand, looking serene as she gazes out on the street below. I reach for the door handle but hesitate, hand hovering in midair, unsure of the reception that will meet me when I step out onto the porch.

I'm nervous. No, I am more than nervous ― I am afraid. Not like the fear I knew when I lived with Marcus, but still, it's there. Because I don't know how Tris will react if I go out there, and she holds my heart in her hands and she has the power to cut me deep.

But she is worth the risk.

So with a deep breath, I slide the door open.

Tris's shoulders tense and she looks over her shoulder at me. Our eyes meet and I find myself frozen in place for a moment, searching. I don't find anger or rejection in her beautiful pale blue irises, so I take one step forward, then another. Sliding the glass door shut behind me, I reach for the second dirt-smudged plastic chair and position it next to hers, no more than six inches between the two.

When I am seated beside her, I pull the bottle out from under my arm and break the seal on the cap before holding it out to her. "Thought you might want something better than PBR," I smile.

She reaches out to accept the bottle. "Johnnie Walker Red," she observes, eyebrows raised. "Nice."

I shrug. "Stole it from Zeke before I came after you."

Tris laughs. I have always loved her laugh. It sounds musical and always makes me feel warm inside. She takes a long pull from the bottle of whiskey without a wince or a grimace, then hands it back to me and I follow suit. We pass it back and forth a few times before she relaxes back in her chair and looks up at the cloudy sky.

"What are you doing here?" she asks quietly. "It's almost midnight. Shouldn't you be at the party?"

I shrug. "I have never really been a party person."

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch one corner of Tris's mouth curve upward. Our distaste for crowded parties was something we had in common when we dated; we only occasionally put in an appearance on the high school party scene. Tris seems to have changed more in that regard than I have. I still only go to appease my friends, and I enjoy it even less. Having Beatrice with me had been the only thing that made parties tolerable.

With a conspiratorial smirk, she lifts the bottle from where I set it on the floor and gives it a little shake. "Why do you think there's so much alcohol at parties? Some of us wouldn't survive them without it." She passes me the bottle and I automatically throw back another gulp.

"Hey," she says, a grin spreading across her face, "do you remember that time I talked Susan and Tessa into coming to that party with us? I can't remember where Megan was. But it was at that one guy's house… what was his name? He was in your year…"

"Oh," I say, racking my brain, "oh, um… I remember this… what was his name? It's on the tip of my tongue…" I snap my fingers when it finally pops into my head. "Troy Callahan!"

"Right!" Tris exclaims. "He was on the soccer team, and Tess had a huge crush on him."

"She had a lot to drink," I recall.

"She said she needed 'liquid courage,'" Tris agrees. "But then they got dared to play 7 Minutes in Heaven and she ended up throwing up in Troy's mouth."

"Not to mention all over the both of them," I snicker. "He was so mad he kicked her out without even letting her clean herself up. My truck smelled a little like vomit for weeks after that."

"I remember," Tris laughs. "I bought you that air freshener that clipped to the air vent."

"That's right! But it ended up making you sneeze every time you rode in the truck, so I had to throw it out." I mock a glare at her.

"The vomit smell was better than all the sneezing," she defends herself.

As we talk, I realize that this is the first time that Tris has reminisced with me about times past since she moved here. Shouts and laughter from the nearby neighbor's party makes it feel like we are less alone up here. We talk more comfortably than I thought possible when she walked away from me after that kiss… maybe more comfortably than we have since I left her two-and-a-half years ago. The more I see the real Tris, the person she has grown into, the more I feel my love for her grow. She has always been clever and thoughtful and witty and a bit sarcastic, but in our time apart she has just become… more. So much more.

As the minutes pass, we lazily pass the bottle of whiskey back and forth between us, slowly draining it to half full. At the same time, our chairs seem to somehow migrate even closer together as well. Three inches.

We talk about our lives now as well as times past. She mentions her dad and brother a few times, telling me about the time that Zeke invited Caleb threw up all over Hana's kitchen floor and even briefly touching on the aftermath the next day, when Caleb ratted Tris out to Mr Prior. While she does not go into detail, it is the most she has said about her family in months. It feels like a huge win; she is beginning to trust me again.

"Uriah and I took off just a few days after that," she tells me after her bare-bones explanation about her dad. "Only, there was nowhere to go. But that ended up being the best part. The whole summer was like a great adventure. I think ― I think my mom would have been proud of me. She would have loved to hear about all the things we did. I think she liked that Uriah drew out the dauntless part of me."

I hesitate for a second, but I am so tired of holding back. Reaching out, I take her hand in mine… and she lets me. Every time she mentions her mom, I can see so many emotions come to the surface. Her eyes water with grief, but there is a small smile on her face, too.

"Do you think you will ever go back to Chicago? To tell her your stories?" I ask, stroking her palm with my thumb.

Tris shrugs and gazes out over the street. "Probably not. I don't want to see my dad, so it's not worth the risk. I mean, she's gone. Visiting would only be for me, not for her."

I am contemplating my response when we begin to hear the chanting from downstairs. They start with fifteen, just a weak chorus of a few party goers, at first. But by the time the countdown reaches ten it sounds as if dozens of people have joined in together.

"TEN… NINE…"

Tris jumps to her feet but holds onto my hand, pulling me forward with her, and moves toward the railing of the balcony.

"EIGHT… SEVEN…"

She leans over the balcony looking down. I don't care what she's looking at right now, all I can think about is that holiday traditions already got me one amazing kiss tonight, and just maybe…

"SIX…"

"Tris?" I tug at her hand, pulling her up.

"FIVE… "

She looks directly into my eyes, and it takes my breath away.

"FOUR… THREE…"

Now or never. I swallow. "Can I ― when the countdown ends..."

"TWO…"

I can't seem to finish my sentence. But she smiles, and I step closer, until there are only six inches between us.

"ONE…"

To my surprise, it is Tris who reaches a hand up, going around my neck.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

As the crowd below announces a brand new year full of possibilities and fresh starts, we move toward one another, meeting in the middle. Our kiss is sweet and tender, our hands never roaming, but I never want it to end.

Maybe she doesn't either. As the last strains of Auld Lang Syne fade out, her lips are still on mine.

I think this is going to be a great year.