TRIS POV

Inside the fear landscape room, Bryce's face continues to darken with hot blood underneath his cheeks. Since we are practicing for our final test with Lauren's fears again this year, I assume that he is having to battle her phobia of public humiliation.

"So, what jobs are you guys going to pick next week?" Christina asks casually, pulling her eyes away from the sight of Bryce's misery.

Dez shrugs. "Whatever is available for me, I guess. I don't want to be a guard though, for sure," she says.

"Me neither. I'm thinking something along the lines of working in a store in the Pit. You know, with clothes, makeup, piercings. Something like that." Christina turns to me. "What about you, Tris?"

"I have no idea," I answer honestly. It hasn't crossed my mind yet. While juggling initiation, an investigation, and my rehabilitated relationship, my life after initiation hasn't been at the forefront of my thoughts.

"Oh, come on!" Dez exclaims. "You can be anything you want to be, even a leader. You really have no preference?"

I shake my head. "Not particularly." Any typical job will be fine as long as I have a place to live, food, basic necessities. After bouncing from one faction to the next during wartime, I don't care what work I am assigned to, so long as it provides me with some stability. Maybe I will choose to be an ambassador to another faction, or an initiation instructor like Tobias, though I don't think anyone would take me seriously.

But who knows if I will keep my chosen occupation anyway. The city is on the verge of erupting again, and it could easily send us all into a spiraling disaster, where a common life isn't attainable.

"It's fine, we have some time to decide," Christina reassures me. "Although I did want to discuss rooming with both of you..."

Dez claps her hands together with excitement. "That would be so fun!"

I don't want to ruin their obvious enthusiasm, so I stay silent off to the side, watching the next initiate fight off imaginary demons.

Unfortunately, Christina picks up on it swiftly. "What's that look for, Tris?" she questions. "You don't want to live with us or something?"

"No, of course not," I reply, kicking absentmindedly at the floor. "In any other circumstance, I would. It's just...I got another offer."

Across the room, Tobias monitors the progress of each initiate in the practice fear landscape. When nobody happens to be glancing his way, he manages to flash me an almost unnoticeable smile, one that is mostly communicable through his captivating eyes. It reminds me of last night, of how I stared into them as we united ourselves as one.

Christina follows my gaze. "Oh, how cute," she coos.

Dez tilts her head. "I don't get it." Christina flicks her temple, causing her to cry out dramatically, "Ow!"

Christina lowers her voice as she explains my reasoning. "Hello? She is going to live with Four, duh."

"Ohhh," Dez says, her brown eyes wide with realization. "That makes sense. Although it is so weird to me that you two are together, no offense. I will just probably always see him as my instructor, you know?"

"Yeah, I understand," I mutter.

The conversation drops for the time being. We continue to wait our turn until each of us gets the opportunity to practice the awareness we have in the fear landscape and the power to manipulate each obstacle. As a Divergent, it is relieving that I don't have to map out each of my fears and can change my surroundings without the worry of being picked out between everyone else.

When we all finish, Christina and I return to the dormitory so she can apply the rest of her makeup that she rushed on this morning, promising to meet up with our friends for lunch. Nobody else is in the room when we walk in, so we speak freely.

"So, do you have any idea who tried to throw you in the chasm last night?" she asks. I watch as she applies some sort of light powder to her eyelids.

"No," I respond, still baffled by the events of the night before. I had been on a cloud of joy for a moment until I was ambushed and nearly killed in a split second. Since then, I haven't been able to come up with a culprit, and I am a bit too shaken up to be comprehensive about it if I'm being honest. "I still can't believe it happened."

"It just goes to show you that the city is still dangerous, I guess," she comments. "I mean, the suicides, and now this. The world is crazy."

That is a broad way to put it. "I suppose so."

She glimpses over at me skeptically as she digs through her makeup bag. "Why were you at the chasm so late anyway?" she asks.

I hurry and think up a quick lie. "Oh, I had a series of nightmares that I couldn't stomach. I just took a quick walk—"

"Uh-huh." Her response is unbelieving.

I sigh. "Okay, fine. You know exactly where I was." There is no more need to hide it anymore.

"So, a little nighttime action?" she taunts. "No wonder you seemed so worn out this morning."

"Christina!" I hiss at her innuendo. I have seen dead bodies and survived near-death situations, but I don't think I will ever be able to handle having a conversation of this nature without being extremely embarrassed.

She cackles and applies a layer of mascara to her eyelashes. "In all honesty though, I'm glad for you."

The way she pauses robotically and wears some kind of insincerity in her expression clues me in to the fact that something about that statement was false, or held back.

I narrow my eyes. "That's it? You're not going to tease me anymore about it?" I ask incredulously. She is normally relentless.

Christina shrugs.

I straighten from my position of leaning against the bathroom wall. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

She sighs at being caught and sets all of her beauty supplies down, giving me her full attention. "Look, Tris," she says. "I really am happy for you. I just...I'm not sure if you have made the right decision."

I scowl at her, crossing my arms defensively. "My relationship is none of your concern—"

"Just hear me out?" She raises her hands in a calm manner, so I stuff my hotheaded behavior away for a moment. "I know you both have had your issues, and I guess you are past all of it now. But I remember the way you cried next to my bed in the Erudite hospital when I was getting my leg fixed up, and how you would barely speak because you were so upset."

I bite my cheek at the memory. After Tobias broke up with me during the attack on Erudite, the depression set in, fogging up the next week of insanity. I remember the heavy feeling of having to be independent and figure things out on my own; I felt stripped and weightless, yet burdened at the same time.

"He hurt you, Tris. All I'm saying is that I don't want to see that happen to you again."

Now that I understand where she is coming from, I can relax my hands so that my fingernails aren't biting into my palms. She is a concerned friend, that is all. There is no ulterior motive to keep us apart. In her position, I would act in the same way.

I shake my head. "I'm sorry I reacted that way," I apologize. "I'm glad that you're looking out for me, but I believe that this time things are going to work out."

We have changed, Tobias and I. But through it all, we realized that we are the only people we want. If we hurt each other again, if we abandon each other again, then we will end up returning anyway. The world is not worth living in without him, and nobody else could make it that way for me.

Christina nods along, zipping her makeup bag shut. "I hope so," she declares. "You deserve it."


TOBIAS POV

The apartment door clicks open, signaling Tris's arrival, and I stay seated on my bed, silently seething as I skim my scabbed knuckles.

"Hey," she says, and even with my back to her, I can hear the smile in her voice. And more than anything, I want to forget my anger and take it up with her another day. Last night was incredible, and it shouldn't be marred by our impending argument.

But I refuse to be put through this again. No more lies, that is what we promised each other. It is what drove a spiked wedge in between us before, and she has already thrown it out the window. If I don't deal with this accordingly, right now, then I will never be able to get through to her that this is unacceptable.

"Tris," I begin levelly, standing to face her. "We need to talk."

Her facade drops when she hears the gruffness of my voice. She approaches me carefully, with noiseless steps.

"Is something wrong?" she asks innocently, and I can't believe how ignorant she is about circumstances and other people's feelings sometimes.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were attacked at the chasm last night?" I blurt out.

She freezes at the reminder that she held that information back from me. Searching for an answer, she eventually comes up with the excuse of, "I haven't really gotten a chance to talk to you today."

"We talked during patrolling."

Sarcasm is evident in her voice. "Because that's a great time to bring it up, right in public, in front of the other initiates and—"

I scoff. "Well, Uriah had no trouble telling me."

The incident casually came up in the conversation we were having; he had brought up Tris and asked me how she was holding up. Of course, I was oblivious to his meaning, though I soon found out that she had deceived me only minutes before by leaving me in the dark when she had the opportunity to tell me.

"You could have died," I snap. "You were almost thrown a hundred feet down into the chasm, and you didn't think that I should know?!"

It was not an hour after we had made love that she nearly plummeted down into the rocky crevice. And what was I doing? Sleeping, when I should have followed my own idea and escorted her safely to the dormitory.

"I was going to tell you!" she exclaims. "Besides that one opportunity I had, in public where you would have likely flipped, I haven't had another chance. I was going to talk to you about it when I got here."

I roll my eyes. I don't have proof if she would have been honest with me or not, but the fact that she is pinning the blame on a dramatic reaction that I didn't have is absurd. "Is that how you see me, as some unstable maniac who can't control his emotions?"

"Did I say that?" she says, exasperated. Her posture sags. "You're exaggerating, Tobias. It's out of the way and done now. Can you calm down?"

Maybe I should. Maybe I shouldn't blow this out of proportion. But there is another lie that I have forgotten about, and recalling it digs up unexpressed fury.

"No," I refuse. "No, actually, I can't calm down. You promised me that you wouldn't keep secrets just days ago! And then you kept this from me, and the bruise."

Tris gulps but still tries to cover up for herself. "What bruise?"

"I'm not an idiot. I know the difference between you tripping and slamming your face into something versus the mark left behind by someone's hand." I did not want to ruin our moment last night, and while I am glad that I didn't, that doesn't mean I ignored the fact that somebody hit her.

A troubled look crosses her face before she tries to turn away. I catch her arm and say in a warning tone, "Tris. Who did it?"

Her stormy eyes slide shut as she mentions the name that I would least expect. "Marcus."

Marcus. My father, who used to lash my back with his belt to make me a better son. My father, who chucked my mother into the living room walls. My father, who mentally abused me so harshly that I am still disordered, hit Tris. As a cowardly man, where does he get the balls?

Taking another look at the light bruise on her cheekbone, I have to fist my hands to conceal how forcefully I am shaking. Outraged, I storm toward the door, muttering, "I'm going to kill him."

"No, you're not," Tris snaps. She snatches my wrist before I can make it more than two steps. "See, this is exactly why I didn't tell you. You don't think straight when it comes to him, and right now I need you to because that momentary slap across the face is the least of our worries."

She has a point. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I focus on reigning in my anger. "How did you even come across him anyway?" I spit.

"He cornered me while I was patrolling. He threatened me, said he knew that we broke into Candor and would go to them if we didn't erase all evidence of his domestic abuse in the system."

I huff at the irony. "After all this time, his power is still his main priority..."

"I don't care about that!" she bursts out. "He could turn us in at a moment's notice!"

Pondering the warning, I come to a resolution. "He won't. Before he would do that, he would at least try to steal it back for himself. But going to Candor would eliminate his chance of being cleared and back in the government."

She purses her lips. "I agree, but there's still that possibility..."

I shake my head and wave her off. Sometimes I think she takes Marcus too seriously when it is clear that the man is a psychopath. I would know that better than anyone; I was at the other end of it for far too long.

"Back to what happened at the chasm last night," I say. "Do you have any idea who it was? Did you see their face, clothes...?"

"No. The only hint I got was when he said, 'This is for sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.'"

The only conclusion I can arrive at from that statement is that he somehow knows about the investigation we are conducting, and somehow he is involved in the suicides and is trying to cover his ass. But that is impossible; how could someone have found out what we are researching? I consider Marcus's knowledge of our crime, but the fact that he doesn't know what we were after eliminates him from a possible list of suspects.

Now I notice how tired Tris is, with the mauve circles under her eyes that have become permanent over the course of the last few weeks. Because of my temper, I haven't taken the time to make sure she is okay. The whole ordeal must have taken a toll on her, and I doubt she slept much last night if at all.

But now is not the time to be caring. Now is the time to straighten things out before it is too late for us. Again.

"Someone knows that we're onto them," I remark. Once I realize that I cannot figure out who without more indication, I sigh and return my attention back to her. "Anything else you need to tell me?"

"What do you mean?" she warily asks.

"Well, that's two major things you have hidden from me so far," I accuse. "So if there's anything else, you might as well get it out now. I'm not putting up with this again."

Tris lets out a humorless laugh that makes her nose scrunch up in a way I would usually find adorable, though she is anything but in this moment. She sinks down onto my bed, her exhaustion catching up with her. "You're such a hypocrite, Tobias."

"While I did keep one secret to myself during the war—which pertained to my mother and I—your falsehoods and deceptions are the main reason we couldn't be together. Don't try to downplay your role."

I have always been one to blame myself, but I couldn't dump even half of the fault on me. The things she did, the way she acted...I know she was suffering, but she made me pay too. Dragging me down into the abyss with her, using my love for her to keep us attached until I had had enough.

"Don't try to downplay yours! I was driven mad last year, we can both agree. But you weren't exactly helpful through it all!" she criticizes.

I grit my teeth, my mood diving straight back down into the depths of rage. "Oh yeah? Like the time I coddled you before I was about to go straight into battle, unbeknownst that you were working behind my back on yet another suicide mission? Like the times I held you after your nightmares while you sobbed over the friend you didn't tell me you killed? Like—"

"Like how you then threw Will back into my face when I finally did tell you?" she shouts, rising again and pointing a condemning finger at me. "Like how you threatened to abandon me when Shauna was shot? Which you eventually did—"

Uncaringly, I interrupt her with a raised voice. "Because you never abandoned me, did you?"

"Well, why would I want to stay with someone who treats me like a naive child?!"

It is the lowest blow she could have delivered. Even if we aren't both thinking rationally right now, she could have said anything else. That she was sorry, that it is in the past. Instead, she chose the most harmful path: turning it against me.

She is pinning the blame on me for the fact that she sacrificed herself to Erudite after we made love for the first time. She is telling me that it was a fault in me that caused her to leave me feeling degraded and used, something that I haven't recovered from emotionally.

"Fuck you!" I spit, the words flying out of my mouth of their own volition. It is the only defense I can use. I have never directed my foul mouth at her, nor did I ever believe I would.

She scoffs, horrified, "Excuse me?!"

I stomp past her to get to my bed, ripping the quilt off of it along with a pillow. "You heard me!"

"What the hell is wrong with—"

"With me? Absolutely nothing," I state nonchalantly. Collapsing onto the couch, I continue, "Just know that I will never forgive you for what you did that night. And you just tore open that wound. I hope you're happy."

A relenting sigh escapes her. "Tobias—" But I don't want her false apologies.

"Shut up, go to bed. I think you've said enough damaging words for tonight." I shut my eyes stubbornly and effectively end the argument.

Soon after, I hear her shuffling around, flipping the light off and crawling under the sheets on my bed. I stretch my legs out on the couch and try to get comfortable until the fury dissipates enough to let me rest.

I don't know where we will go from here. Many of the secrets she has obscured from me in the past few days are now out in the open, but does that matter now? It doesn't change anything that she told me because I had to coax it all out of her; I shouldn't have to. Nevertheless, the words that spewed from her mouth were unbelievable, and if she wants to patch things up, then she is going to have a grueling time doing it.

This will not happen again.


TRIS POV

I wake up shivering, curled up underneath the thin sheets that do nothing to keep out the chill of the cool air blowing through the apartment. Tobias isn't next to me—it isn't like I expected him to be—instead keeping to his position on the couch, as far away as he could possibly be without leaving.

My mind recalls the feud that we had, and how I, a total imbecile, said deleterious words about a subject that he is still wrestling with to this day. I don't even care about the language he used anymore; I obviously stabbed him long ago, and rather than removing the knife, I twisted it.

Thinking about how we may not recover from this, from my doltish actions, causes a cold tear to run down my cheek. No. I refuse to let this be the end of us.

Feeling needy and alone and still freezing, I rise from the bed, tiptoeing over to the couch, where Tobias is sprawled out on his stomach. The blue quilt spread across his back calls to me, and I slip under it, lying on top of him. I feel him take a deep, waking breath from beneath me, and I suddenly worry that this was a mistake, that he will throw me off in irritation. But I just need to be close to him right now.

Tobias begins turning over, so I assist him in moving us both so that I can lie on his chest. He sighs when I am comfortably settled into his chest, our legs tangled, with the couch somehow holding both of us despite the small width.

And I don't need to say I'm sorry right now; that could start another quarrel, and he must already know that I regret what I said. I sniffle on accident, revealing the fact that I was momentarily overcome with emotion, and it is enough to make him wrap his arms around me and tuck me into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Our troubled past continues to haunt us to this day, instigating repressed outbursts and making us fall into old, foolish habits. It isn't now that we are operating in, when it should be, since these are different times. So I vow then and there, in the comfort of the dark and the warm quilt and the boy beneath me, that I will never lie to him again.