Author's Note

There have been a few questions that guest have been asking me, and since I cannot talk to them personally; this is the only place to address their questions. At the bottom, I have a section dedicated to explaining any questions.


I do not own anything, just my ideas.

Chapter 43

TRIS

Trying to get to the building I need to go to is like traveling through a maze. The map in my head is confusing different buildings and shops between New York and Chicago. Time has taken the labyrinth of New York, and it has faded and transformed into Chicago. So I am that tourist I used to make fun of with a map in their hand.

The buildings around me stand so tall. I can't help but wonder, and hope, that I too will work among the clouds high up in the air. And down below are jungles of concrete. And all along, glimmering and big lights will bring inspiration to the mortal souls that travel through.

I love the energy that radiates from everyone around me. I have come to miss the sound of the honking cars that can only come from the short-tempered New Yorkers. Every city is different, and the one thing that will always be New York is the smell. Hot dogs sold on the corner and littered air. It is almost overwhelming, the city and everything in it, but I feel comfortable because it was once my home.

I flow with the crowd, and soon I find my way.

The building David is having me go to is just down the street from the courthouse. I reach the front doors, and when I walk in, there are signs and desks and people everywhere. I take a slow, deep breath and walk to where David stands. He is with a group of three other people. One girl and two guys.

Once David sees me, he says, "Ah, Ms. Prior, I am glad to see you." For some odd reason, he strains on my name. He continues, "So, it looks like you are all here. Follow me to my office."

The four of us follow David, passing more desks, more conversations, and more signs that read MORTEM FOR CONGRESS. David's face is plastered everywhere. I guess I should have read what David sent me more thoroughly. He must have worked in the courthouse, due to his office. But now, it looks like he is trying to run for a seat in the senate.

David talks to us, congratulating us on getting chosen and assigning us our different jobs. One of the guys, he has blond hair that is neatly combed into place, gives me unpleasant looks almost the whole time. I do not know what he is trying accomplish; we have not officially met. Besides, I have dealt with much threatening, and more frightening, people than him.

When David finishes, he sends us off right away. The other girl and I are assigned to budget and accounting. She has curly brown hair, but when we pass the windows and the daytime light flashes through, I can see her hair is more auburn with its red hue.

She reaches out a hand to me. "Caroline Stephens. I will be attending NYU in the fall. I am from New Jersey." And there is the smallest hint of an accent.

"I'm—"

"Beatrice Prior. I know. I recognize you from the newspapers. The Hayes trial, right? I have a photographic memory, and I do not easily forget a face. And you were all David could talk about right before you got here."

"Oh, umm. I prefer Tris."

"Well Tris, is New York much different from Chicago? Or is it hard to compare the two? I guess cities can be different and the same. And I guess you have been living in Chicago for a while now."

Caroline continues to ramble on, spitting out more information about me. I sense she does not really have much of a filter. "How do you know so much about me?"

"Oh," she says, ending her conversation with herself. "I made sure I knew the other interns before I got here. Do not feel too weird about it. And like I said, David talked about you non-stop before you got here."

"He did?"

"Oh, yeah. He told us how he worked with your mom and how she was an amazing person and the tragedy you must have gone through."

We make it to our intern desks and there are already files there. Caroline's voice blurs, and it is not until she looks at me with high eyebrow that I realize she must have asked me a question.

"Sorry," I say. "What were you saying?"

She laughs. "I am guessing you are more of an introvert. I tend to be very candid, and that sometimes scares people away."

"I am normally used to keeping to myself."

"For five weeks?"

"Well…"

"Let me see your papers." I hand her my small binder with my information.

"Ah-ha, I knew it," she says pointing to one of the pages. "We are in the same room together."

"We are?"

"Yup. We are in the same small apartment, right across the hall from the boys. They are rooming together, too." She points across the room where they are sitting. "The one with black hair is Matthew, and the blond one is Zane."

"Zane seems—"

"Like a little bitch."

I am at a lost of words. I always thought Christina was one to speak her mind, but Caroline lets everything spill out. "He just seems to not like me even though we have not even talked."

"He's a preppy rich boy from West Chester. His dad made him do this, and he is one of those people who need to be at the top."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You have David's attention on day one," she says. "Don't worry about him. Matthew is much better than him, anyway."

"I hope," I say as I start to work. Caroline continues to carry on a conversation, taking both parts, as I study the papers. It amazes me how she can talk so much and work at the same time.


There is something different about the city when it is warm and sticky instead of cold and dry. I didn't notice it when I walk in the morning, but now during the lunch rush with the sun high in the sky, I can feel it.

The four of us go to lunch together. Caroline and Zane debate over different things. I lose track of it after the topic changes for fourth time in five minutes. Matthew is on the phone talking with someone. I walk silently, breathing in everything around me.

When we get food, Caroline and Zane continue to debate and Matthew now types on his device. I take the opportunity to call Tobias.

He picks up after two rings. "Hey, how's it going?"

I look to the others. They are too consumed in their own endeavors to hear my conversation. "Fine. I have been alternating between phone calls and accounting stuff."

"Sounds like that internship is the gig of a lifetime."

"Well, Caroline, the other girl, says the housing is really good. Oh, you should hear her. She's like Christina on steroids. I don't think you can even compare the two."

"So, have you talked to him?"

"Caleb? I was going to call him. See if we can talk."

Caroline elbows me. "Hey, we have to start heading back."

"Tobias, I have to go. I'll call you later."

"I love you. Don't change too much in New York."

"I love you, too." I put my phone back in my bag.

The four of us walk back; Caroline tries to grill me about the guy I was talking to on the phone. I tell her it was my boyfriend, and she leaves the conversation at that. Once we get closer, I catch the end of Caroline's conversation.

"—They wouldn't let me do it because I died my hair earlier that year."

"What?" I ask.

"I tried to donate my hair last month, but the place I went to would not accept it. So I have to do at another place at the end of the summer."

"You donate your hair?" I look at her long brown hair with its auburn hue.

"Yeah. Have you ever thought about donating?"

"I never really thought about it."

"Well, you should. It's for a really good cause. My sister did it last year. She donated 12 inches and they turned it into a wig for a cancer kid. You can't choose to have cancer, but you can help make the fight a little easier."

We reach the building and as usual, I am answering and directing phone calls. It isn't hard, but the time drags. Every once and a while, I begin to daydream. Caroline's story is getting to me. For as long as I can remember, I have had my long blond hair. I would get it cut, but that was only to trim off the dead parts.

David taps my shoulder and tells Caroline and me that we can go back to the apartments. (It is just around the corner.) Caroline, Zane, and Matthew make plans for dinner, but I decide to do something else for dinner.

I part ways with them and make my way down the street. I pass a hot dog stand and stop there for dinner. In a few minutes, I am full and ready to keep moving. A very New York thing to do. I reach the little shop that will do just the trick.

How can I look the same, when everything about me has changed? Almost everything, at least.

A bell rings when I walk in.

"How may I help you?"

"I would like a haircut. In fact, I want to donate my hair."


I do not know what makes me do it, but I decide to meet with Caleb a few days later. He gets to the coffee shop before I do, and he is sitting at one of the tables with a cup in his hand. His back is facing me when I walk in, his blond hair getting longer than it normally does, and he has a backpack on his shoulders.

When I sit in the seat across from him, he says, "You cut your hair."

I reach for the hair that stops at my chin. I can still remember the times when he was smart, and proud of that fact. The way his eyes would search for answers and, like now, how he would grab information out of the air in the midst of shock and spit them out matter-of-fact.

"Yeah, well… It's too hot for long hair," I say, not leading onto the other reasons.

"It makes you look older."

"Thanks," I say, but more like it is a question.

"Listen, I'm glad you came. I know that the last time we saw each other you said—"

"I know. A lot has happened since then."

He fumbles with his cup in a way that says it is empty. It makes me realize how long he must have been waiting here. I know he used to be punctual with time, but something tells me he got here extra early. Does this mean he cares?

"Do you want anything?" He says nodding his head towards the pastries and drinks.

"No. I was hoping we could just… take a walk."

"I'd like that."

We both stand and Caleb throws the empty cup away. I have to remind myself why I am here. I have to remember that I am ready to forgive him. I want to do this for myself, and also for my mother. She would not want me to hate him. And… I don't want to hate him anymore.

"So, how's dad?" I ask casually like it is something we frequently talk about, as if we have ever frequently talked.

"It's hard to say. I have not seen him since the spring. Easter, it was."

"I thought you two…"

"I'm in Michigan most of the year, and he is everywhere else it seems."

"Oh."

"How was the end of the year for you?"

I am silent, deciding what to tell him. Or how to word it.

"What is it?" He asks.

"Things were fine. Prom was fun."

"Are you still dating that guy?"

"His name is Tobias. And yes."

"How long has that been going on?"

"I don't know. It just sort of… happened. Maybe November? I try to not look back, but spend more time to look forward."

"I guess that is something good to do," he says. It is weird talking to him about Tobias. "Anything else? How were your exams?"

"They were…"

"What?"

"They were going well, until I got to Physics."

"Physics? It's just fancy math. In fa—"

"No, Caleb. It wasn't the exam. It wasn't even a test—it was a project. But that wasn't it. While we were testing our projects, someone had a gun."

"Huh? A…"

"No one was shot. And I talked him out of the situation. And—"

"You talked a shooter out of a hostage… How?"

"I guess I found a way to understand him. And we talked. We talked about forgiveness," I say almost in a whisper.

And we aren't walking anymore. We are standing, facing each other. I can see—I can feel—everything that keeps us apart, all the betrayal, stuffed in between us. No matter what he tries to do or I try to do, it will stay there keeping us apart. The only thing that each of us can do is slowly tear down what is threaded between us.

My part means forgiving, and letting go.

"Caleb, all I ever wanted was for you to believe me. Not because what I said was true. Not because I am your sister. Not because it what you should have done. I wanted you to believe me because you love me. And when you betrayed that trust, it felt like there was a weight that fell on each of us. All I ever wanted was for that weight to go away, for you to take it away. But you didn't. And I didn't, either. I could have taken that weight away, but only if I forgave you. Because forgiveness means taking both your weight and my weight."

"I… I never thought of it like that. I know I've made mistakes—"

"And I know that, too. And I have made mistakes, as well."

"I don't want to feel the guilt anymore."

I feel a blow to my chest. I want to forgive him because deep down, I will always love him. Caleb, on the other hand, wants this only for himself.

"My biggest fear was that if I did take all the weight, that it would crush me. But then I realized that time dulls the hate, and the wrong fades away. And then, one day, whether it is a few days, weeks, months, or years… Someday, all of the weight will go away. I guess what I am trying to say is… I forgive you."

Caleb is silent, and then he says, "… You figured this all out from being a hostage?"

"You'd be surprised how your mind thinks when you are facing death. Of course, I've had my experiences with death." I say it like a blow, and part of me wants to take it back. "I didn't—"

"It's okay. I am glad to see you have that fire."

"Me too," I say and we continue to walk.

We are getting closer and closer to the water. If you were to be a stranger and look at us, it would seem like a brother and sister taking a summer walk. Like there was nothing wrong. And while I still feel the tension between us, it has distinguishingly subdued. And I like it.

"I'm thinking about quitting football this fall," he says.

"What? But you've been playing since you could walk."

"That's just it. I've been so focused on one thing, one way of life, that I have lost out on so much."

"And what does dad have to say about it?"

"I haven't told him yet."

"And this is what you want?"

"Yeah, it is. For the longest time, I feel like I have done what everyone expects me to do. And it feels like everything was full speed ahead. And for some time, I feel like I wasn't… me."

I turn to look at him. Anyone can tell by just looking at him that he is strong. His shoulders are broad and arms are big. He's much taller than me. But I see something different. I see his bright green eyes. I see his dimpled cheeks that become even more evident when he smiles. And I see his brown hair tumble down his head.

I see him for the person he had always tried to hide. I see all the remarkable things he is: smart and observant, enthusiastic, quiet and earnest. And he wants to be those things again. At least, he says he does. And I chose to believe him.

"Beatrice!" Someone shouts behind me. I recognize the voice, and that is the only reason I turn my head. I am met with familiar, warm brown eyes, and hair that is longer than its normally neatly trimmed length.

It is strange to see someone you once thought you would not see again. Ever. You forget about the people that touch your life, in the smallest way they seem to do so. But here he is, standing in front of me and wearing the same red life guard uniform he had on the last time I saw him.

"Robert," I say.

"Beatrice," his sister, Susan, says next to him.

"Susan," Caleb says. And then he says it again.

"Hello, Caleb."

"How long has it been?"

"A while. It looks like you have been doing really well."

"You too. You look good. I—I mean you look like you are doing well. I—" Susan laughs. "Are you guys home for the summer?"

"Yeah," Robert says. "We both are home and then we leave for school in the fall."

"Where?" Caleb asks.

"I'm going to Gannon, and Susan will be at GVSU in Michigan."

"Grand Valley? I didn't know you were so close to my school."

Caleb and Susan continue to talk together. He seems at a loss of words seeing his old childhood friend (and crush) again. Time has been good to Susan. Her curves have developed and she has found a way to tame her brown hair. Caleb notices.

As the two of them continue flirting, Robert turns to me, "How are you?"

"I'm doing really well."

"Really, because the last time I saw you, I was grabbing you out of the water. And I saw in the news…"

"I'm doing well," I say again. "That day was a long time ago. A lot has happened since then."

"I can see that. Are you happy?"

"What?"

"It's a simple question, Beatrice. Are you happy?"

"Umm, I go by Tris, now. And I am happy."

"Well then, Tris, I hope you find a way to have the words you say match the way your eyes speak."

"Life isn't just about being happy."

"It would be a simpler life if it was."

He seems to really believe that. The way he smiles at ease as if there is nothing dark inside him. Even when we were younger and as those years passed, he has always seemed to be at peace. It's beautiful, but it feels not idealistic. As if it's too good to be true.

He shines like a star in the sky. But he is the kind of star that flies with other stars, just as bright or even brighter. While he radiates golden beams, the light from the others makes it look like he is barely iridescent. Because stars can't shine without darkness.

"Beatrice," Susan says. "Would you mind taking our picture?"

Caleb gives me his phone, and the two of them wrap their arms around each other for the picture.

"Here," I say, handing the phone back after taking a few. "And Susan, I prefer Tris."

"Tris. It's lovely. Why don't you and Robert get a photo?"

"Uh… Sure."

Robert puts his hand over my shoulders, and I put mine on his back. We take the picture, and I can't help but feel the warmth that is only Robert. He's an angel, after all. He's the angle that saved me on the day that I jumped off the edge into the unknown and almost drowned in it.

We say our goodbyes and walk in different directions.

What if I had told him everything that day? What if when he pulled me out of the water, I let him be the light in my fall down a dark, bottomless pit. Perhaps, the fall would have been different. Maybe there could have been something more.

Something more? Every decent childhood memory I have as a kid, Robert has found a way into it. One memory specifically on a cold December night.

I cling to the memory and savor it, experiencing the flavor of a first spark. I shake my head, and I shove the memory out of my mind. I send it down the vast cavern of might-have-beens. I've found my own happiness.

"So… Susan," I say.

"What do you mean 'So… Susan?'"

"You two really hit it off."

"It's nothing." I give him a look.

"You know, I'm not the best with flirting, but I know it when I see it." He types something into his phone. "What are you doing?"

"I'm posting the pictures we just took."

"And you claim you don't like her, yet you are telling the world you saw her right after the event happened."

"Not just her… You."

"Me?"

"Yeah, I'm posting about you. And if ever accept my friend request, I will tag you."

Not too long ago, Christina convinced me to get a Facebook and something else. I hardly use them. But it seems that everyone else does.

"Fine," I say as I pull out my phone. I tap the screen a few times. "There."

Caleb looks at his screen, and then looks at me. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For never being the reason for that smile. I'm sorry I was the reason for the frown, for the tears."

"When I said I forgave you, I meant it. But that doesn't mean I am going to forget. Nothing will be the same between us. This forgiveness thing will need to happen in stages—steps at a time until the hatred is gone."

"So, do we part ways? Is this goodbye?"

"For now. And it's not goodbye; it's more I'll see you later."

"Until then, take this." He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a wooden box. "I found it when I was gong through some things at the house."

He hands me the box and I see my initials engraved on it. "What is it?"

"I don't know. It has your name on it, so I figured it belonged to you."


I don't open the box until that night. I wait until I know that Caroline is asleep, and when I hear her breaths slow, I open the box. Inside are a bunch of envelopes that say Open when…

I reach into the box, and at the top is one that says Open when you get this box. I open up it and a hand-written letter from my mother faces me.

Beatrice,

I love you. That's the first and most important thing I want you to know. I love you. And no matter what you do, what you say, where you go, or who you become, I will always love my Beatrice. When I turned 18, and I was leaving for college, my mother gave me a box full of letters. She told me that, over the years, she wrote many letters to me. She also told me that her mother did the same thing to her, so I think that it is only fitting to do the same to you.

So here it is… Letters to my daughter. Every one of them is different, and in case something were to ever happen to me I will always be here in these letters. Always guiding you until I have done my job and you are guiding yourself. (And even then, I will be a light on the shore in your sea of life.)

Love, Mother

I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I can hear her voice through the words, like she wasn't taken away from me all those years ago. I frantically search through the letters and look for another one to read. I pass ones to open on Graduation and other stuff. I come across one that says: Open when you fall in love.

Beatrice,

There once was a boy in my English class when I was a sophomore in college. He was smart, but in the way that he didn't want anyone else to know. He was silently smart, and silently brave. My favorite part about him was that he could forget himself for someone else. I did not realize how much I liked him until it was the end of the semester and he asked me to go to the Holiday Festival.

And it is funny how people tell stories about falling in love. There are star-crossed lovers that are passionately in love but can never be. There are soul mates that are meant for each other and no one else; there paths are chosen for them, instead of them making a choice. There is love at first sight when you look at someone once and you just know. But let me tell you something Beatrice, the boy from first semester English and I were nothing like those things.

We fell for each other slowly, one person pushing harder and backing off, and vise-versa. It was slow, like waves coming to a shore. We slowly traveled to the shore, steady and naturally. It was calm and beautiful, and then at the last moment, everything built up and crashed into something I could only call love. We weren't perfect; in fact, we fought more than other couples. But there was always one thing that we could agree on… We loved each other unconditionally.

That boy's name was Andrew, and he is your father. As time went on, we learned to agree on more thing. And we learned to love two people as much as we loved each other. Those two peoples' names are Caleb and Beatrice.

So, Beatrice, if you are reading this, you have fallen in love. And you will know it when you feel it. It can sneak up on you until it is there. Beatrice, I hope you fight. I hope you fight with each other and for each other. But most importantly, when he said I love you for the first time, did you ask him if he was afraid of heights? I hope with my entire soul that he said yes because that means despite his fear, he fell for you.

Love, Mother

I feel like I am going to melt away. The clock on the wall tells me I am up too late and will regret it in the morning, but the box full of letters calls me. I shuffle through the other letters, I pass one that says to open when I have my first child, but I pass it.

A yawn takes over my mouth—my body telling me that it is time to sleep. But I tell myself one more letter. One more for tonight and that is it. I reach one that makes me stop. One the back, instead of the 'Open when…' there are scribbles.

Beatrice,

I've written this letter a thousand times, but I could never find the right words. So here it goes. There are things in this world, horrible things, and I cannot protect you from it all. All I can do is teach you to be strong and hope that you will be the change you want to see.

There is a job opportunity for me right now, but the people behind it are bad people. They have done bad things to get where they are, and they will do much worse to get even further. I know I am doing the right thing not accepting the offer, I just hope that it will not harm the ones I love most. Especially you.

Something is going to happen, my dear, but I do not know what it will be. Know this, something will happen, and I wish I am wrong, but it will be something horrible. All I can do is keep moving forward, my head high and my values close, and pray that the ones I love will do the same. Never forget what I have taught you, and when you are lost always look to the North.

Love, Mother

I am at a loss of words. Something horrible. Is this what I was planning to find here? And if it is, what does it all mean. I can feel myself tumbling down a bottomless pit, and I can feel myself searching deeper and deeper down ignoring the fact that the pit is bottomless.

I read the letter again. And again. Look to the North? What could that possibly mean? I want to scream, to cry, and to do something other than read some of her last words to me. What does this all mean? What does her death mean?

I can't think about it anymore without everything falling apart. I put the letter back into the envelope and go back to the last one I read. I cannot bear the thought of going into sleep with the thoughts of my mother's death and her threat of something horrible. So, I read the letter of love over and over until I can read it with my eyes closed.

I keep them closed, reading until I feel the weight of sleep. I finally go under with her words of love walking through my mind. And I love that feeling: that I am adrift in calm waters. And even though the annoying voice in the back of my head says that the waters will not stay calm forever, I ignore it and let the words of my mother rock me into sleep.


Author's Note

So, has anyone read Four? I did, and I really liked it. It was interesting seeing what was happening behind the scenes during Tris' initiation and how Tobias changed because of Tris. There were times when I felt it was Veronica Roth talking instead of Tobias, but it was funny so I let it slide. I would love to hear your thoughts. Please review!

Be brave, everyone!


QUOTES

1). Where do those words go when they are not spoken? Are they hiding, shy or frightened, crying or smiling? –Winnie The Pooh, Disney character

2). I'm not sure where the swell of desperation comes from, but now that I've acknowledged it, it's impossible to ignore, like a living thing has awakened from a long sleep inside me. It writhes in my stomach and throat. I need to leave. I need the truth. –Allegiant, book

3). We don't shame them for being too big or too little, too short or too tall, too pink or too blue. We just embrace them for their unique beauty. –Anonymous, person

Congratulations to: Darnsagirl guessed one of the quotes correctly.

There are three (book, movie, book) quotes in this chapter.


Some of this was probably explained in this chapter, but if you are still confused, I am answering the guest questions.

What is Tris doing in New York?

While Tris was in New York for her trail against Peter, she met David. He knew and briefly worked with Tris' mother. David offered Tris a chance to come to New York and work in an internship program under him. It will last a few weeks, and she will help David with his campaign to run for Congress. (But she will uncover different secrets while there.)

What is with the different Parts?

If you go back to 2: Chapter 1, I have a quote about strength. The first part talked a lot about Tris staring over in a new place and slowly opening up to others. A lot of starting with nothing and becoming something. In 28: Chapter 27, the quote was about closure, forgiveness, and standing up for yourself. That part was about the different trials and Tris moving on. Now, staring in 43: Chapter 42, the quote has a lot to do with finding the truth and moving forward. I am going to work with those themes a lot and we will see where they go.