I do not own anything, just my ideas!

Chapter 15

TOBIAS

Is it possible to murder someone by just thinking about it?

The brain is an extraordinary thing that can do so many things already; what's one more? A lot of people underestimate the power it can hold, and with all the hatred I am feeling, I am about to explode. Raped?! She was raped? I swear if I ever find out who it was, he better pray we never meet. Because shit would go down.

I guess everything makes sense now, but it shouldn't. Everything that's happened to her and the effect it's had; it shouldn't be this way, but it is. The way she stays away from people, she must be constantly worried it will all come spilling back onto her. The way she's always drawing; it must be something she uses to release her feelings. That second sketchbook! I can't imagine what those pages hold. And her reaction to the knives we threw back when I was giving her lessons. If I would've known about the scar, I wouldn't have used them; I feel so stupid.

She faced that fear, though, all by herself. That's how strong she is; she can swallow the worst part of her life and turn it into a strength she can use to defend herself. And she doesn't have to tell me to not tell anyone the truth about her. I know what it's like to hide something personal, something that I'm ashamed of. She's so strong; she has to be the strongest person I've met. She has gone through this whole hell by herself; she's made herself stand when the world tried to keep her down.

I'm the only one who knows, well besides Tori. Tori, I can't imagine how she feels through this whole thing; powerless, because she wants to help, but can only do so much. Tris doesn't want to feel any weaker than she already does, and she sees accepting help as a weakness that can be exploited on a larger scale. It has probably happened to her before, so she doesn't trust others. In fact, Tori told me about the bullying, and how no one believed her when she tried to tell people the truth. Other than that, Tori didn't say anything else. It's Tris' life, and she will tell me what she wants me to know when she wants to.

The thing is, she told me. On her own, she trusted me with the most vulnerable piece of herself. And I want to do the same for her; she deserves that. She doesn't have to go through this on her own, because I am like her. I've been given scars that I can not remove. And I think, I know, that we will be able to help each other. I just have to let her know that, and I know the best way to do it.


Ms. Reyes sticks her hand into the hat and pulls out a single strip of paper. "And last to perform today will be," she unfolds the strip and calls out, "Four and Zeke."

Originally, Zeke and I were doing something different, but I convinced him to change it at the last minute. He wasn't too happy at first, but now I owe him. Specifically, I owe him Dauntless Cake at Tori's after practice today. It doesn't matter to me; when it comes down to it, I get cake and I get to see Tris.

We walk to the front of the room and I grab two stools; one for myself and the other for Zeke, who has his guitar. He quickly tunes it to the correct key, and begins to play. I take a low breath and begin the song.

When your day is long

And the night, the night is yours alone

When you're sure you've had enough of this life

Well, hang on

Don't let yourself go

'Cause everybody cries

And everybody hurts, sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong

When your day is night alone, hold on

When you feel like letting go, hold on

'Cause everybody hurts

Take comfort in your friends

Everybody hurts

Don't throw your hand, oh no

Don't throw your hand

If you feel like you're alone

No, no, no, you're not alone

Well everybody hurts

Sometimes, everybody cries

Everybody hurts, sometimes

And everybody hurts, sometimes

So hold on

Zeke finishes playing, and we get a standing ovation from the class. Moments later, the bell rings and we are swarmed by the class. Well, the girls in our class. I try to wiggle away and catch up to Tris, but I am blocked. I really want to talk to her, especially since I didn't see her at lunch because she was painting the whole time. She hasn't really talked to me since yesterday on her roof. I still can't believe I went up there with her, but it was with her. And she is always worth it.

I manage to get to my next class on time, barely. It doesn't matter whether I am on time or not because I do not pay attention to the lesson, and before I know it, the bell rings and it's the last period of the day. English. English with Tris. I have a little more of a bounce in my step, and I'm that person who's rushing through the hallway. My locker is right next to English, so I throw my stuff in my book-bag and head to class.

I walk in and I see her sitting at her desk with her head down, looking at whatever is on her desk. I make my way over to her and her head shoots up as I am steps away. Her peripheral vision must have seen me coming, and her instinct to protect herself must have sensed it. Either way, she looks up and meets my eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself." She replies, "It was really good, you know, that song you did with Zeke earlier today."

"The song, right; thanks. Umm, is there any way I can talk to you? I want to tell you something; it's kind of important. And it has something to do with the song."

"Okay, I'm working on the mural after school today, but I really want to get a big part of that done."

"Don't you have a few minutes to ta-" BRRRRRING the bell chimes, cutting me off.

"I'll talk to you after class." I tell her as I walk to my desk. Class is pretty uneventful, but I note that our teacher makes an announcement that the project's due date is sneaking up. Good; another way to spend time with Tris. The whole bravery thing gets me every time. I guess it's interesting looking into the what drives people to do certain things. I like the idea of selfless bravery; it's the best kind because it is the purest and strongest.

The final bell of the day rings and the class clears in a blink of an eye, except for one person. She, unlike the others, is just now starting to pack up her stuff. She is taking her time, making sure every notebook and pen is where it should be and stands up. She begins to walk out when I stride up next to her. That protective instinct she has picks me up and she gives me a side wards glance.

"You weren't kidding about wanting to talk, were you?" She says.

"No, I wasn't." I hear her give a sigh, and she continues down the hallway. The short walk to her locker is quite, but not awkward. What is uncomfortable, well more uncomfortable for Tris, is the glances that get shot our way. I've learned to ignore them, because they don't mean anything, but Tris isn't used to it.

"You don't have to walk with me, you know. Besides, don't you have practice after school?"

"There's a teacher's meeting after school today, so coach moved practice back a little bit."

"Still... I know you want to talk, it's just, you don't have to be with me all the time. Besides, after yesterday... Anyway, I know there are probably other places you could be and other people you could be talking to, and..." She begins to trail off as she puts the last book in her book-bag; she places her red-letter sketchbook in her arms, and we walk outside. She doesn't see how much she means to me, and it makes my heart ache a little. There are only a few things that I consider important to me, and one of them is her. Well, just being with her, talking with her; one conversation with her brings this feeling that I am beginning to get addicted to.

"Hey, I want to talk to you." I tell her, "And if you don't want to talk anymore about yesterday, you don't have to. I do want to tell you something, though."

"I don't know. There was a lot said yesterday, I think it needs some time to... fade away." She takes a breathe, "I'm sorry, it's just that, it's had such an effect on me for so long, I don't want it to anymore. Huh, this doesn't make sense. Well, it makes sense in my head, but not when I try to say it."

"You don't have to have it together all the time, you know. It's okay to let yourself go every once in a while. I know when you were playing paintball, when you were stepping out of your comfort zone, you felt free. Sometimes, it's not about making it right, but making it better."

"Look, I know you're trying to help, but I have to go; I've got to get to the mural." She starts to walk faster towards the cafeteria, but I chase after her. I catch up and I reach for her arm. I entangle my hand in hers and I pull her back.

"Please, Tris. Five minutes, that's all I want."

"Alright, five minutes." She says, and I look around and see the storage closet a few feet away. The hallway is too busy with people so I lead us into the closet, closing the door from the rest of the world. Now it's just us.

"I'm sorry I'm like this." She says, "I'm not used to anyone knowing, well anyone here knowing. It's easier to keep it a secret, and now that someone knows... I just want to let it go."

"If you're trying to give an explanation, you don't need to. Some things aren't that simple. Something big like that, you don't forget it, as much as you try."

"Maybe, maybe not. It would be easier if they were, though."

"But easier doesn't make you better; going through the tough times, they make you a better person, a stronger person."

"Sure, it's easy to say that, but what about actually doing that? Anyway, how would you know? I know you're trying to make me feel better, but... you don't know."

"Actually, that is what I wanted to talk to you about. What happened yesterday, I just want you to know I think you deserve better and you're not alone."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you have an idea. You were in music today. Tris, that wasn't something that was just thrown together..." She is quiet for a moment, as her busy mind thinks back to class. By the look on her face, she knew there was something more, but didn't think more about it.

"So you've... No, you can't; I mean, you, alone. How-"

"Tris, like it said, it's not that simple...You... you're not alone. You're not alone because I know what it's like. I've been on the other side of horrible things. I... I have permanent scars, too."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Not what I can say, but what I can show you..." I say as I remove my bag from my shoulder, "I'm going to show you something that no else has seen-"

"Wait! What are you doing? Why are you doing this? You don't have to, so why?"

"You trusted me with something that you have kept so far inside of you, I want to do the same. I know what it's like to live with it. I think you've gone through this on your own and you can get better, like you wanted, if you knew there are more of us out there. I care about you, and I want to share part of myself to you." I turn around and I lift the back of my shirt up to my neck, revealing the marks of hate given to me from my father. I hear her gasp, and her gentle hand brushes against my scars.

"Who... How... I had no idea."

"No one does, I hide it has best I can... Like you."

"You do a better job, and no one doubts you."

"That's a lie." I say as I pull my shirt down and turn to face her, "The person who did this to me, he doubts everything about me. I may act like I am strong, that I am brave, but I never truly feel it, except..."

"Except what? How could you not be brave?"

"When I am with you, I don't know how to say it, you make me feel stronger. You wake me up from sleep walking around through this thing they call high school, because I guess you make me see some kind of meaning in it."

"I don't know about all that... But you, you help me. I mean, you're the first person who has found and still treats me like a human being, like I am just like everyone else. Sometimes all I want is normal. Sure, normal is boring, but it's safe and it'd be a nice break." She sighs, "This is..."

"Good. And good may not seem like the most amazing thing, or most inspired, but it feels like something so much more."

"This is so weird for me. The last time I... well, I'm sure you can figure the rest out. I never imagined I would ever find a friend here, someone who really cares."

"Don't ever doubt how much I care about you. And you don't have to worry about anyone finding out about you, I give you my word."

"I won't say anything, either. I still can't believe you...

"I know, I try to not believe it, too."

"But like you said, it's not about making it right, but making it better. I think that time will make things right, but for now... Time is what I need."

"Does that really work, though?"

"Sometimes yes, other times not so much. That's only because there is so much that time can erase. That's when I get stumped; what do I do when I have nothing else to help?"

"We learn to live with it. We build ourselves in a way that will make us strong enough to not let it dictate us."

"You make it sound so easy, like a walk in the park."

"Sometimes a walk in the park is all you need. A thing that calms you and gives you a break, because it's not about living with it, but living through it. The difference is that living with it lets it hang on you and pull you down. Living through it gives you more freedom to walk freely."

She doesn't say anything for a while, but I see that behind her eyes a million screws are turning. Round and round. She snaps out of her trance, and looks at her watch. "Umm, it's been more than five minutes..."

I know that, and I will probably be late to football, but I don't give it a second thought. "I guess you're right. I'll walk you to the cafeteria."

"It's only a few feet away; I'll be fine."

"I know." I grab both our bags and she leads us to the cafeteria, where all her paint is set up ready to go. I lay her stuff on a table and she begins to put on her smock.

"If you want to talk," I begin, "I'm always a call away, don't hesitate."

"Thanks, and uh... you, you too Four."

"Tobias. You can call me Tobias, I like it more."

"Tobias. Tobias, I am free to listen if you want to talk." I love hearing her say my name, and a smile takes over my face as I walk out to the field.


Practice comes to an end, but I am starving. I, along with a good number of guys on the team, want some food, so after practice we make our way to 21U. I guess it just so happens that Tris is working tonight, too. Ever since our talk yesterday, I feel like I have more of a bounce in my step; that there aren't chains dragging me down.

During practice, the guys were talking about Homecoming, and it has dragged out to here. I like it as much as the next person, but it isn't my favorite thing. I feel obligated to go, though. I mean, you can't just not go; it's Homecoming. And with me being not just on the team, but captain, I really should go. Also, I wouldn't be surprised if I get on the Homecoming court. It's attention that I do not want.

I guess if I'm going to go, I want to go with Tris. She nothing like any other girls at our school, and well damn it, I really, really like her. Besides, I'm the only one who knows about her, and that has to mean something, right? I know other guys like her; I have ears. She is so beautiful, but in a special way all her own. And she has impressed a lot of people with the mural. These guys, though, they just see how pretty she is and her painting, but I see more. I see her strength and how smart she is. We share something that no one else does.

I've got to do something soon, before it is too late. I stand up and look around for her. She's standing at the counter, and I begin to walk up to her. I'm doing this. I've had about half a dozen guys try to sac me, I've climbed up a water tower, I've faced my father, I can do this. I'm about half way to the counter when my path is intercepted by someone else. It's James, a guy that plays defense on the team, and he is walking with confidence towards Tris. And I begin to think the worst.

"Hey, Tris." He says.

"Oh, hi. Do you need anything?"

"Uh, yeah. Did you get the pre-calc homework problems written down? I forgot them at school."

"Oh, umm, I did. Wait just a second; they're in the back." Tris walks to the back and some of the other defenders on the team begin to walk over to James, each one carrying a mini-poster. Tris walks back in and her eyes widen as she sees the crowd beginning to form around her. I know she doesn't like it and this will not be good.

"Tris," James says, "I wanted to ask you if you would go to Homecoming with me?"

My heart stabs with pain, and I cannot breath. The pain is replaced with jealousy and back to pain; these emotion interchange each other at the speed of light. There is something in me that is sure she will say no, but there is the doubt as well. I doubt she put much thought into it, probably thinking no one would ask her. Or she just isn't like other girls and doesn't focus on that stuff. Either way, my lungs will not find relief until she gives and answer.

And, oh, her answer...


Author's Note

To be honest, I had this chapter done for a while, but then two days ago I completely changed half of it... So I hope it is better! For some reason, EVERYONE loves Four's POV and really don't know why. (So if you could tell me what you like about it so much, I will target it when I write future chapters.) I try to do every other chapter in their different POVs, but it is hard with the way the story is set up. I try very hard though!

Also, I love all of you who have submitted different ideas for the contest! A lot of them are the same: have Peter come back. Let me say, it will happen, but not for a while. I need time for Tris to heal and for her and Tobias to grow closer. Right now, I want things to take their time, just like they would in real life. If you all are dauntless-adrenaline-junkies well... we all know how Tobias feels about you.

Be brave, everyone!