A/N:
Hi!
I'm so sorry I went MIA on you all, I'm back in action (mostly, my updates might be slower as I'm working fulltime and doing school right now)
Writing I do for me though, and everyone needs me time!
Thanks to everyone who messaged, reviewed and chatted me just to say you missed my updates. It was so appreciated!
I am officially forcing myself to make more time for me (and you guys).
Sorry for making you wait and I hope you enjoy. This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but It's worth it for the next chapter!
Hope it holds you over.
Thanks as always to my beta (BK2U)
Tobias
It takes everything in me not to blow Zeke's cover with a snort over my plate when he promises his mother that he isn't going to drink at Cara's party.
The three of us are sitting in the kitchen together, with Zeke and me both scarfing down dinner so that we can get out the door quicker.
"Scout's honor," Zeke promises, shoveling a forkful of lasagna into his mouth at the same time.
I wince, but pass it off as a smile. I'm having a lot of trouble imagining any world in which Zeke actually follows through on his 'honor as a scout.'
"And you?" Hana asks, narrowing her eyes as she rounds on me. "You're not going to drink, either?"
I shake my head slowly.
"No ma'am," I say sincerely. I've spent too many nights watching my father drink himself into a monster to slide down that particularly slippery slope.
Zeke nods beside me, corroborating my answer. It's common knowledge in our friend group that I don't drink much, or at all, when it comes to parties.
"Yeah, he's always the designated driver anyway," Zeke mumbles nonchalantly.
I turn my head to look at him, my eyes widening.
Zeke almost chokes on his food as he realizes his mistake too late.
"And why would you need a designated driver, Ezekiel?" Hana's voice is sharp and it makes me want to confess to a sin that I didn't even commit.
"I-I m-meant that he would be, if we ever needed one," Zeke manages to get out, "... but of course, we never do."
It's a shoddy cover-up, and this time, I can't resist the snort.
Hana glares at us suspiciously for a moment, but she doesn't press the subject.
"Don't push your luck," she says sternly, "and keep an eye on Uriah for me, please."
Zeke nods, mumbling 'yeah, yeah' before waving his mother off.
He shovels a few more bites of food into his mouth before excusing himself from the table to change into his baseball uniform turned costume for the night.
Hana watches him go, then turns her head towards me, letting out a long sigh.
"Look after them both for me, will you? They aren't quite as mature as you."
I grin, nodding my head. "Of course."
She's quiet for a moment, her brow furrowing as she looks at me.
"And try to have some fun for yourself, too, alright? I know things haven't been easy for you lately…"
"I'm okay," I say as reassuringly as I can manage.
She raises her eyebrows at me, waiting for the real answer.
I know she means well, but I don't have an answer that will ease her mind or mine.
The truth is that I feel untethered.
For the first time in my life, I'm on my own. Being in control of my life is a complicated and unsettling feeling.
Somehow, I thought it would feel more freeing.
Then again, maybe it would without an ultimatum hanging over my head.
I'm lost, and most of the time I don't know which direction is up.
Every day feels like a battle I've already lost.
"Have you spoken to your father?" Hana presses me gently.
My mind immediately starts to play a highlight reel of the confrontation with my father at the game.
My jaw tightens as I hear in perfect detail the words he said.
Nothing is yours. Understand me? The money, the car, the privilege. I can take it away as easily as I gave it to you.
I shrug my shoulders, my eyes on the table.
"Briefly," I mumble. "It didn't go well."
She's quiet for a long moment, just watching me. I can tell that she wants me to elaborate, but I don't.
I turn my eyes away from her, ignoring the sympathetic expression on her face.
"He loves you, Tobias. I'm sorry that he doesn't always know how to show it."
I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek and taste blood.
"If it's alright with you," I say steadily, "can we talk about something else? Anything else?"
"Of course. I'm sorry if I overstepped," she says sincerely.
"You didn't." I shake my head slightly.
She stands there for a moment, tilting her head as she keeps her eyes on me.
"Listen, can you do something for me tonight?"
"What's that?"
"You're under an awful amount of pressure all of the time. Will you let it go for me? Just for tonight? Be a teenager," she says, smiling. "Enjoy yourself. Enjoy your senior year. Have fun with Tris, your friends, because you deserve tonight to look back on. Okay? Promise me."
I look up at her for a moment and then force a tiny smile.
"Okay. I promise."
She moves towards me, resting her hand on my shoulder. She gives it a light squeeze before moving through the doorway towards the living room, leaving me alone with too many thoughts.
A flash of light from my cell phone catches my attention and I'm grateful for the distraction.
I open the text and let out a low laugh.
Save me. My Dad's threatening to make me stay home and pass out candy with him.
Tris lifts my mood without even knowing that she needs to.
I type back quickly, shaking my head and grinning.
Consider yourself saved. I'll see you in twenty minutes.
It takes me ten minutes to get dressed and another three to get out the door.
I can already feel Cara's impending disappointment with my lack of effort.
Slipping into the car, I barely notice when my phone flashes again. It's on the second ring that I catch sight of the incoming call.
An international phone number makes my stomach drop uncomfortably.
It must be midnight in London.
The phone stops vibrating abruptly and then picks up again a few moments later.
Well, if nothing else, my mother is at the very least persistent.
Against my better judgment, I pick up the phone the third time she calls.
"Hello?"
"Oh. You picked up."
Her voice takes me right back to childhood, and for a moment I'm too lost in the feeling to speak.
My voice comes back to me eventually and again, against my better judgment, I respond.
"Well, you did call me three times."
"Hm." She sighs into the phone. "I suppose that is true…"
I don't respond, instead waiting for her to further the conversation.
The silence between us is the loudest I've ever heard.
"Happy Birthday." Her voice is flatter than it should be for the saying.
She pauses then, waiting for me to thank her.
I can't bring myself to do so.
She lets out a breath, and I imagine her pacing her fancy bedroom, locking herself away from the family she chose over me in order to make her obligatory birthday phone call to the son she rarely thinks about.
"I can't believe you're eighteen," she says cautiously. "How does it feel?"
Like the world is crashing down around me and I have absolutely no direction.
"The same as seventeen."
"Really? That can't be true. You're an adult now, you're going to college soon. You must be so excited to spread your wings."
"Not really."
A beat of awkward silence.
"Thank you," I finally manage to get out. "For the Happy Birthday."
"You're welcome. I…I hope you have a nice night."
Another strange moment of silence fills the phone with the both of us searching for words that probably won't ever appear.
What do you say to someone you barely know?
"You don't have to call me anymore," I say bluntly, my hand gripping the telephone tightly.
"What?"
Her voice sounds confused, hurt.
"I get it. I was a kid, you felt obligated to keep in touch, but you don't have to do that anymore. I'm eighteen, and I understand."
"Tobias, that's not—"
"It's okay," I cut her off quickly. "I don't need an explanation."
"Don't you?" she says softly. "Listen, things between your father and I have always been complicated and I…I didn't always have the easiest access to you and I am sorry for that. But I don't call you out of obligation. I call you because you're my son."
I stare straight out the windshield, my eyes watching the wind blow what's left of the leaves off the trees.
Suddenly a wave of nostalgia hits me.
In my mind's eye, I see nine-year-old Tobias watching Hana Pedrad tickle her son at his tenth birthday party, and the longing in his chest swells so big it feels like he's going to have a heart attack.
The phone buzzes against my ear, jolting me out of the memory. I pull it away from my ear, glancing at the screen.
A text message glares up at me.
ETA?
Tris.
"I…I have to go," I say, pressing the phone back to my ear. "I'm late."
"Okay. But Tobias, maybe you could call me sometime and we can—"
I hang up without hearing her parting words.
When I show up at Tris's house ten minutes later than I said I would, she doesn't bring it up.
Instead, she immediately makes me smile and for a moment, I can forget about my problems and easily slide into my role of boyfriend.
"Damn, I think I have a thing for baseball players," she teases as she slips into the passenger seat.
"If I knew you looked that good in uniform, I would've come to your games last spring."
I grin, shaking my head.
"Well, you better not miss one this year, then."
She laughs, leaning in and pressing a kiss to my lips.
"Happy Halloween," she says softly.
"Happy Halloween," I return, taking in her costume for the first time.
She looks incredible.
White leggings, white tank top, topped with a white puffer vest and boots. Her hair is done in an intricate braid, inspired by Princess Leia in The Empire Strikes Back.
Her costume isn't the typical Halloween attire that I'm used to seeing on high school girls, but it's something in its own right.
Tris choosing to embody a woman that she finds genuinely inspiring and strong is an incredibly attractive thing.
We fall into an easy routine of flirty banter on the way to Cara's house, but it dies down almost the moment we round her block.
"Christ, how many people did she invite?" I mumble half under my breath as I take in the line of cars parked along the street. Tris laughs beside me, leaning over and resting her chin on my shoulder.
"Hey, it's not just about you," she reminds me, kissing the space between my neck and jawline.
"It's Halloween." She lightly fingers the hair at the nape of my neck. "Have a little fun! We don't even have to think about your birthday until midnight."
"Oh, yeah?" I say turning to look at her. "You don't know Cara very well."
"Are you going to be like this all night?" she teases. "I mean, I get it, I'd be grumpy, too. Being an old man must be really tough..."
I whip around, narrowing my eyes.
"Watch it."
She grins at me, sticking her tongue out slightly.
"Or what?"
I press my lips to hers, cutting her teasing words off abruptly.
A soft sigh escapes her lips, her breath caressing my mouth. Gently, her arms encircle my neck as she presses herself closer to me.
It's an easy and necessary distraction.
With her lips on mine, I'm able to shut everything out apart from my desire for her.
My birthday, college, my father, my mother, my precarious future…it all seems trivial now.
When she pulls away I let out an irritated groan, pushing myself closer to her, breathing her in. I lean forward and brush my nose against hers, my lips aching to make contact with hers.
She leans back slightly, keeping herself just enough distance away to avoid another kiss.
"Well, what was that for?" she asks breathlessly.
"Do I need a reason to kiss my girlfriend?" I mumble.
She shakes her head slowly.
"Absolutely not." She leans back in then, pressing her lips to mine, once, twice, a third time.
"Tris…" I breathe, pressing my forehead to hers.
"I know…" she whispers against my lips.
We kiss for a few moments more, my fingers itching to touch the skin underneath her tank top. She pulls away before I can get that far.
I brush my fingers against her neck, feeling her heartbeat underneath my fingertips.
Being close with her like this is the only thing that makes sense in my world sometimes.
She reaches up, pressing her palms against my cheeks, her eyes holding mine.
"Okay…" she says softly. "What's wrong?"
I frown a little, shaking my head.
I will never get used to her reading me so well.
I shrug slightly.
"Nothing."
She shakes her head, eyebrows raised.
"Uh-uh. Try again."
I let out a long sigh, tilting my head back.
"I don't know, maybe it's just birthday blues."
The expression on her face tells me that she doesn't believe me for a second. She waits patiently for me to elaborate, but nothing comes.
"You know I was kidding about you being an old man, right?"
I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head.
"Yeah, I know."
"Then, what is it?"
I take a deep breath and then blow it out slowly. Being open with her doesn't come naturally. I have to make a conscious effort to be honest, but loving her and being honest with her seem to go hand in hand.
"It's my birthday," I say solemnly.
"Do you seriously have an age complex?"
I shake my head slowly.
"No. It's my birthday, which means that my mother called."
Her eyes widen a bit as she watches me.
"Oh…" she finally says softly. "Are you okay?"
I look at her for a moment, so grateful for her that I can hardly breathe. The fact that her first instinct is to ask about me, not what happened, makes my heart swell about three sizes.
"Yeah. I am. Or…maybe I'm not. But I will be."
"You don't owe her anything, Tobias."
Somehow, the thing I've been telling myself all night only sticks when she says it.
I don't owe her anything.
I lean in and press my lips to hers, touching a hand to her cheek as I do so.
"You're right," I whisper against her lips. "Thank you."
"She doesn't get to ruin your night, okay? I won't allow it."
I can't help but grin at her determination. As small as she is, I still believe she'd put herself between me and a dragon if the need arose.
"What?" she asks, wrinkling her nose at me.
"Nothing," I reply. "You make a good Leia, you know," I tell her, reaching up and touching the intricate braided design in her hair.
"You think? Christina wasn't impressed, she was insisting that I could find something sexier…"
"Are you kidding? This is sexy," I say running my hands along her white legging-covered thighs.
She narrows her eyes at me, not trusting my words.
"Seriously? It's just a puffer vest," she says, pulling on the zipper.
"Trust me, middle school Tobias is jumping for joy right now."
"You're just being nice."
"Am I?' I say, leaning forward to press soft kisses to her neck. I hear her sharp intake of breath and my lips form a grin against her skin.
"Probably not," she breathes. "You're not very good at the 'being nice' thing…"
I continue to leave a trail of kisses along her neck, my hands pushing open her white puffer vest so that I can touch the tiny bit of exposed skin between her shirt hem and waistband.
"Tobias…" Her breath hitches in her throat and I smile to myself as my fingers caress her skin.
"If you keep touching me like that…" she says in a small voice, "we'll never make it to the party."
"And that's a problem?"
"It will be when Cara finds out that you blew off her party just to make out with me."
I let out a groan, knowing she's right. We're already late, and I'm sure Cara is throwing a fit inside.
"Alright," I say with a sigh, pulling away from her. "If you insist."
She grins a bit, leaning in and pressing a kiss to my cheek lightly.
"Don't worry, I'm sure we'll find some time to be alone in there." She nods towards the house.
"I'm holding you to that," I say seriously, before pushing open the car door.
"Tris!"
Christina barrels through the crowd and collides with Tris, her leather clad arms wrapping tightly around her neck.
"You're here!" she squeals excitedly.
The front room is already packed with costumed teenagers, heavy rock music blasting from the speakers. A large cheer from the kitchen tells me that someone just made a fantastic score in beer pong.
Christina is dressed in a traditional version of Catwoman. I'd be lying if I said the outfit didn't suit her. The eyes of several boys followed her when she made her way over to us.
"Hi…" Tris greets her, catching her as she slips slightly. It's obvious to both of us that Christina has had quite a few drinks already.
"Having fun?" Tris asks her and Christina nods enthusiastically.
"How much fun?" she presses her, pointedly.
"Two shots and a beer," Christina says solemnly.
Tris, tilts her head back, laughing.
"Okay, I have to get on your level."
Christina giggles, giving a little twirl to show off her costume in true Christina fashion.
"You look amazing, Chris," she says. "Seriously, your eye makeup is incredible."
I didn't notice until Tris mentioned it, but she's right. Christina's eye makeup is intricately done underneath her mask, swirls of dark blue and black giving her an even more piercing gaze than usual.
"Thank you," she says in a sing-song voice. "There's a whip, too. Will has it somewhere…" She turns her head, glancing around the haze-filled room to find him.
"Will!" she calls, but it's to no avail. The music is too loud, and another cheer from the kitchen drowns her voice out.
"Oh well, he's here somewhere; you can't miss him with the cowl," she says, waving her hand dismissively.
She gives Tris a once-over and then smiles with approval.
"You are absolutely the perfect Leia."
"I'm glad you think so."
She turns back to me, assessing me the same way.
"While I think you would have made a good Han Solo, I suppose I appreciate your 'ready to make a home run' look. I have to admit. You do look good in uniform."
Before I can respond, Tris snorts loudly next to me.
"He's taken, you know," she says teasingly, wrapping an arm around my torso.
I grin, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. I like it much more than I'm willing to admit that Tris's instinct is to claim me in some way.
"Who's taken?"
All three of us turn around at the sound of Nita's voice.
My mouth falls open slightly as I take her in.
When Nita told me she was coming to the party as Wonder Woman, I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't quite this. She's wearing a red leather corset, with star-spangled blue shorts that leave very little to the imagination. The shorts are paired with over-the-knee, high heeled, shiny red boots.
Zeke appears beside me, his arm resting on my shoulder.
"Close your mouth, dude," he whispers. I turn to look at him, shaking my head slightly as he shrugs.
"What? Is it too much?" Nita asks, looking down at herself and then back up at the group of us.
For a moment, no one says anything, and then Christina speaks.
"Not at all. You look incredible."
"Really? Thanks, Christina," she says with a grin. "So, what are we talking about? Who's taken?" she questions again.
Clearing my throat and diverting my eyes slightly, I manage to find words.
"Me."
"Oh, well, everyone knows that," Nita says, rolling her eyes. "Old news, of course. Speaking of, Tris, I'm obsessed with your costume. I love Star Wars."
I turn my head to look at Tris, trying to gauge her reaction. She stares back at Nita for a second, her eyes moving slowly from her head down to the heels of her boots.
"Thanks. So do I."
Nita links an arm with Tris, pulling her from me easily.
"I need a beer pong partner. Zeke and Uriah have crushed me three times already. Please, say you'll play with me?"
"Oh! I call back up!" Christina insists, hopping on the balls of her feet.
Nita doesn't really wait for Tris's answer before tugging her towards the kitchen. Tris turns to me, mouthing 'sorry' before disappearing through the kitchen doorway.