CHAPTER 4 – BOYFRIEND
Tris Prior's POV
The next morning Uriah and I decide to have some fun in the practice room; we wait at lunch in the cafeteria for Lynn and Marlene to arrive. It is Sunday, so no classes today.
Marlene walks with a skip in her step; Uriah speaks to me about getting another tattoo, "Oh come on," Uriah says, nudging my arm, "it wasn't bad at all, getting that first one."
"No, it wasn't," I agree, "but I would prefer to still see my skin."
"I'm not saying get a sleeve," he replies, shaking his head. I shrug and turn back to my tray of untouched food. He reaches for the bread on the side and I don't smack his hand away this time. It's useless because he's relentless. Lynn sits down across from us, rolling an orange across the table at him. Uriah smirks, holding it between his palms, "Why did you give me this?"
"Because I don't like oranges," Lynn says. She looks to me, "hey Tris."
"Hey," I reply.
"Since when?" Uriah asks her. Lynn gives him an unamused look.
"Since forever," she says, "when have you ever seen me eat one?" Marlene takes the seat beside her.
"Why do you grab them if you don't eat them?"
"What are they arguing about?" Marlene asks me.
"An orange," I say, smirking a little. It's a ridiculous object to argue over, but somehow they make it look serious. Uriah tries to list of times when he's seen her with one, while she either denies or explains that she never ate them. I have to laugh.
"Hey," Marlene speaks up, staring intently at her muffin, "Uriah, does Zeke still have that plastic-pellet gun?"
Uriah shrugs, "Probably, why?"
Marlene smirks, "I bet that you can't shoot this muffin off my head from a hundred feet away." I see Uriah grin—a mischievous glint in his eye. He cracks his knuckles and leans across the table, practically getting in her face.
"I bet you can't stand still and let me shoot that muffin off your head from a hundred feet away," he says, straightening up after a minute. "I've got to go get the gun, but you can bet I'm not backing down from this one." He holds his hand out and Marlene gives it a firm shake. "You guys want to be witnesses?" Lynn is already on her feet, so I stand up and Marlene takes her muffin with her as we leave the school grounds.
Uriah leads us down a back entryway, and I notice that it's by the apartments. Four's is all the way down at the end—I look away from it, but I wonder if he's there right now.
Uriah pats his pockets, then looks between the three of us, "anyone got a pin?"
"What happened to your key?" Marlene asks.
"Must have dropped it," He shrugs, rolling his eyes at himself, "third key this year."
"Idiot," Lynn scoffs. She pulls a pin from her hair and hands it to him. He grins and turns, jamming it into the lock. After a few moments, there's a click and then the door opens, "you guys stay here and keep watch. If anyone finds you guys, just tell'em to come in and see me." Lynn rolls her eyes, but nods and we wait by the door.
"I wonder if Shauna's down here," Lynn says after a moment, pressing her ear to one of the doors; I assume it's Shauna's. But Lynn starts laughing, covering her mouth with her hands; after a moment she listens in again, "I think somebody's getting laid in there..." Marlene smacks her on the arm.
"What is wrong with you? Don't listen in!" Marlene hisses.
"Calm down, it's not like I'm gonna try and barge in on them..." Lynn retorts, rolling her eyes again, "but I bet you the door's unlocked."
"You're such a pervert," Marlene sighs.
"Hey Tris, wanna listen in?" Lynn smirks, offering room beside her. Marlene sighs beside me, shaking her head. I shake my head—I don't know much about sex, I'd prefer not to listen in. Though, with how quiet we're being I can hear some of what Lynn's listening in on. Lynn snorts, "Sound's like it's Lauren and..."
"Will you stop trying to guess who's room that is and what they're doing in private!?" Marlene asks, disgusted, "get away from there—!" Uriah's voice comes from the room then. He appears in the doorway, holding the gun up.
"You guys are being awfully loud for trying to sneak around... I got it by the—what is she doing?" He asks, pointing it at Lynn with a questioning look on his face.
"She's being a perv," Marlene frowns down at her muffin. Lynn backs up from the door, smirking.
"Chill out, Marlene. God, it's not like I was really doing anything..." she heads down the hallway and we follow her out. Uriah takes over then, and we found ourselves in a room full of targets, much like the one I stood in front of, punching bags, and tables with throwing knives and pellet guns laid out. "Ugh, I could have just grabbed one of these," Uriah whines.
"They're not even loaded," Lynn rolls her eyes, "you wouldn't have been able to use them."
"So this is the practice room," I say, glancing around. The more time I spend here, the more I realize that this compound is much bigger than I thought it was. The room smells faintly of sweat, wood, metal, and stale air. It's a little cold in the room, enough to make bumps rise on my bare arms, but not enough to bother me.
"Welcome to the training room," Uriah grins, flipping a switch on so all of the lights turn on. Marlene stands in front of one of the targets, placing the muffin on top of her head. She stands completely still while Uriah positions himself, holding the gun away from him, and stabilizing it with both hands.
"Just think, Mar," Lynn calls out, taunting, "if he misses you'll have a nice welt on your face." Marlene waves her off with a smirk, but holds her hand out before Uriah's finger squeezes the trigger.
"Wait—!" She says, ripping a piece off the muffin. She pops it into her mouth and gives him a thumbs up. Her cheek puffs out at she chews, making her look like a chipmunk as she grins. We hear the sound of a door open, and Uriah curses, shoving the gun behind his back. We all turn to see Zeke, Shauna, and Four walk in. Four looks over at me.
I see he is already covered in sweat, as well as Shauna. He walks slow.
"How did I know it was you guys?" Zeke asks, shaking his head. Uriah relaxes, smirking. He turns back to Marlene and repositions himself, aiming the gun. One squeeze on the trigger and the pellet shoots out, ripping through the muffin and knocking it off Marlene's head. She didn't even flinch.
"What are you guys doing here?" Shauna questions, leaning against one of the tables, "you're lucky it was us who showed up and not Eric, or his cronies." Lynn just shrugs, Uriah blows a breath over the barrel of the gun like he is blowing away smoke, and Marlene rips another piece off the muffin, the part that didn't touch the floor.
I just stare between the three of them, and stop at Four's eyes.
"Shooting a muffin off Marlene's head," Uriah answers, spinning the gun around his finger. It accidentally hits the trigger and a pellet flies through the air, just missing Zeke's face.
"Give me that," Zeke says, holding his hand out for the gun, "how the hell did you get this?"
"From the apartment," Uriah shrugs.
"It was locked."
"The magic of a female's hair pin," Uriah smirks, looking quite proud of himself.
"You left your key on the floor this morning," Zeke says, shaking his head. He pauses briefly, then attacks Uriah and gets him into a headlock, roughly pressing his knuckles into Uriah's head. Uriah tries to swat at his arms, but Zeke is taller, more largely built than his little brother. After a moment, he releases him and Uriah fixes his shirt.
"You guys shouldn't be back here," Tobias says after a moment.
"You wouldn't tell on us," Uriah says; Four nods in agreement, but we know his statement stills stands. "Besides, you're back here now. Is it not okay with you if we hang out here?"
"Why do you want to?" Shauna asks.
"Why not? We'll be at the pit later tonight, only makes sense that we stay here." Lynn answers with another shrug. Shauna sighs, shaking her head slightly.
"Well...?" She looks at Four and Zeke as she says this. Zeke doesn't look bothered by the idea, and neither does Four. Zeke cracks his knuckles and heads over to one of the bags; Shauna follows him over, trailed by Lynn and Marlene. Uriah takes the pellet gun and goes over to the targets, aiming.
Four gives me a look before he heads over to the punching bags. My legs carry me after him; he grabs a roll of tape from the table at the far end and begins to wrap his fingers with it. I notice his knuckles are still blue and purple, with a red ring around the mix; but they look worse than last night. They're bruised pretty badly—how often does he come here?
I look over and see Zeke is having fun trying to show Shauna what to do, despite her telling him she knows how to fight. Lynn and Marlene are talking about something I can't quite hear, watching the two. Uriah fires off about five pellets, the only sound comes from the plastic bouncing off the target at the same force they hit at.
"How often do you come here?" I ask quietly, as Four takes the first punch. He briefly glances at me, and stabilizes the bag before hitting it again.
"Pretty often," he answers, "but usually just for fun. Zeke always likes to come down, so I go when he does." I nod, watching the muscles in his arms flex and relax with each hit. The tendons in his hands pop out as he clenches them, white-knuckled underneath the bruises. Sweat begins to gather down his neck and back again; across his forehead too.
"Does that hurt?" I say, pointing to his hands. He shakes them out, glancing down at the tape.
"Not really. You get used to it after a while." It looks like his hands should be numb by now, but he keeps going.
I don't understand what he finds fun about punching a bag thick as mattress foam, but I bite my lip and ask, "can I try it?" Tobias gives me an amused look, but steps back, reaching forward to stop it from moving.
"You want to?" He asks. I nod. Tobias moves back so I can stand where he was, and his hands find my bare shoulders. His hands are rough, but they're gentle as they rest there for a moment, positioning me. He adds pressure, saying quietly, "let your arms relax."
I release a breath and let my shoulders drop, "Good." He says, his chin just above my ear, "now—," he grabs my arms and holds them firm in front of my chest, one above the other, "—keep them up here; don't punch with your arms punch with your weight." He's still holding my arm when he demonstrates it.
I try a few hits, feeling the sting of contact in my knuckles. I briefly look down at the skin that's turned red. He lets me try again, standing behind me and occasionally correcting my stance. His hands straighten me at the waist, adding pressure to the small of my back and my abdomen, "keep tension here. It helps." I hear him, but I don't—I focus on the way his palms, cold and tough, hold me.
I can still feel the outline of his hands as he removes them from my body, correcting my arms again. I try to focus on what he says, but I can't stop thinking about the sparks in my stomach. I make a few good hits, but after a while I back down and let him go back to it.
"Tris—!" Uriah calls, "wanna try?" He's holding the gun up, grinning. I laugh and after a moment I nod, taking one last look at Tobias, who nods me off, before I leave him at the bags. Uriah hands me the gun, stepping away. I glance up at the target—it's not that far away.
Uriah gets me settled, and steps to my right, out of the way. "Ready...aim...fire!" He says; my finger squeezes the trigger and I watch as the green pellet hits the wood a few inches away from the blue. It leaves an indent in the material and then drops to the floor. "Not bad," he says, inching my arm over a little more, "now try it."
I go again, this time striking a hole through the blue; I hit the throat. I grin triumphantly, and Uriah lets me fire off a few more before Zeke, Shauna, and Four head over to the door, "people are probably filling up the pit now. We should go," Four says, kicking the door open with his foot. He holds it with one arm as we file out of the room. I'm last—or second to last since Four walks behind me after turning the lights off and closing the door. Uriah walks at my side, pretending to aim the gun at the back of Zeke's head, smirking at me as he does it.
"Sooo," Lynn sing-songs, throwing an arm around my shoulder as the boys leave us, "what was all that about?" I know what she's talking about, the blush creeping in to my face, but I try to act dumb anyway.
"What?" I ask. Lynn rolls her eyes.
"You're a horrible liar," she says bluntly, "Four may have been showing you what to do, but that didn't look like it was the only thing happening." Marlene nods, her expression just as questioning.
"I don't know," I answer with a shrug. "He was showing me how to hit." They share a knowing, cocky look.
"His hands were all over you," Marlene states, smirking, "don't even try to lie about that." I sigh, shaking my head at them.
"O-kay... but he was showing me what to do."
"Ugh can you just be a girl for a second?" Marlene whines, shaking me by my shoulders.
"I'm always a girl," I mutter, frowning.
"Fair point, but you're not acting like a girl," Lynn says, "unless you're around Four." I look up at her, curiously.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"A girl will always act like a girl when she's around a guy she likes," Lynn answers, "simple as that."
"It's not that obvious," I mumble.
"Okay, whatever you say," Lynn throws her hands up in mock surrender, "we'll get you to talk some other time, we're holding you to that." I shake my head as they wander off, and listen in on one of Uriah's stories.
xxxxx
The pit is not full when we head down; Eric is having two boys set up the mats, Tori stands above them on the landing with Christina at her side. I notice a new bandage on her shoulder, she must have gotten a new tattoo.
Christina joins us, her smile as wide as ever, "I got a new tattoo!"
"I can see that," I laugh, "can I see what is it?" She peels back the bandage to reveal a symbol that matches one on Tobias's back. I'm not sure she knows about his tattoo, but Tori must.
"Do you like it?" Christina asks.
"Of course," I say with a smile, "I love it."
"Maybe you should get the same one," she jokes, "I'll happily go with you."
"I'm tattooed out at the moment," I say, shaking my head, "my brother doesn't even know about this first one, yet."
"Are you ever gonna tell him?" She smirks, "It's kind of an eye sore, don't you think? As soon as he sees you, he's gonna know."
I roll my eyes.
"Of course I'll tell him. I won't be able to hide it, anyways. But he never leaves the library so until he does, this will remain unknown to him."
Sometime later, the first fight starts. I don't pay any attention to it as I search the crowds for Tobias. I don't know where he went after we split up earlier. Uriah is in the second fight tonight, and he is up against Al. I love Al as a friend, but he drags his feet in the fight and I find myself hoping for Uriah to win—I feel terrible rooting for one and not the other, but I feel in my gut that Uriah has the upper hand here.
Marlene and Lynn cheer for Uriah, too; I imagine because they really don't know Al. I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Tobias. His clothes are dark instead of the light grey he wore earlier. His smile is sincere as he stands in front of me.
"Do you want to stay here?" He asks over the noise, but makes sure only I can hear his question.
"Where did you have in mind?" I ask.
"Somewhere quieter," Tobias says, his hand finds the small of my back and he leads me through the crowd. We find ourselves in a dark corridor, but I know he knows where to go. I hear rushing water the closer we get, and the air gets much colder the lower we get.
There is some light around us, I'm not sure where it comes from; maybe the pit above, or at the very end of the corridor. It's not much quieter down here, but it's not as loud as voices yelling over each other either. The water rushes beneath us, I watch as Tobias sits down on a dry rock and motions for me to join him.
"This wasn't what I thought you meant when you said quieter," I joke; he looks a bit unsure.
"We can go somewhere else—,"
"—No, no," I shake my head, "I like it down here."
"Okay," he breathes a sigh of relief I only see and don't hear over the water, "I have a few questions. I'm hoping you can answer them for me."
I nod and I rub my palms across my thighs, trying to warm them up.
"Well, for one, is Tris your real name? Or just a nickname?" The question is so innocent, I feel a bubble of laughter in my throat.
"Beatrice... that's my real name," I say, biting into my lip. I don't hate my name, but it feels too formal to introduce myself.
"You said you transferred from New York," Tobias says, "but your parents stayed there. Do you have any family out here?" If I do, my parents have never mentioned them; besides my uncle, who's funeral we attended when I was only about six. I don't really want to mention that to Tobias, I'm afraid it'll dampen the mood.
"Just my brother," I say, twisting my fingers together, "he came with me."
"What's he like?" He asks, curiously.
"He's incredibly smart," I say, feeling a small swell of jealousy, "He's about a year older than me. We don't really argue... ever," I laugh, remembering all of the times Caleb wanted to get mad at me, but decided against it, "He gives me advice, or suggestions, but I think we've started growing apart, since getting here. He's always off in the library, or the science labs. He just loves school."
"It's easy for him," Tobias nods, watching me intently, "Do you have a favorite subject?"
"History," I say a little too quickly, "We are supposed to learn from our mistakes in the past, but often times our mistakes are repeated." He nods along with what I say, and we fall into a comfortable silence, listening to the rushing water below.
"Can I ask you a ridiculous question?" He asks, looking shy.
"You just did." His demeanor makes me smirk; what ridiculous question could possibly make him shy? Unless he is about to ask me something personal. Tobias rolls his eyes at my answer, but smiles in response.
"Do you have a favorite color?" The innocence of the question catches me off guard, and suddenly I understand why he called it ridiculous. He awaits my answer, looking almost in a daze. His eyes look so blue, I wonder if it's because of the water.
I blurt, without really thinking, "...blue." Immediately, I blush and look away before he can tell.
"What's so embarrassing about blue?" He asks, humor in his voice. Crap, he did notice, "Come on," Tobias laughs, his fingers tuck a strand of hair back behind my ear, "If you want to know mine, it's the gold in your hair." When I look into his eyes, I see something I'm not familiar with; something carnal, like a want.
I blush harder, deciding if he really wants to know, then I've got nothing to lose, "...your eyes are blue."
"They are," He jokes, copying my response from earlier. I roll my eyes, but laugh regardless.
"You seem very cocky when someone compliments you," I say. He continues to play with my hair.
"Only when that someone is you," He says, softly.
"What are you saying?" I ask as his lips rest on the top of my head. He breathes in.
"I'm saying that I like you," Tobias admits. My heart pounds in my ears, loud—louder than the water in the chasm.
"But you're older than me," I say, dumbfounded.
"Yes, that two-year gap really is insurmountable," He jokes. He lifts my hand to his chest, placing it over his heart. His heart rate matches mine, "You make me nervous too, Tris."
"Why me? I'm not pretty..." I say, as I look at him. He is gorgeous; tall and handsome, athletic and strong. Tobias gives me a look I can't read.
"I don't know if I could answer that," He shrugs, "You don't see yourself clearly. You are pretty, Tris. More than pretty." My eyes meet his as he speaks, and I realize that he is serious. His words are kind, his smile is sincere.
"I don't want things to go too fast," I say.
"Of course," Tobias nods, "You can set the pace."
I breathe, feeling calm; the way he speaks tells me he is willing to listen to my cues, but the way he is looking at me almost tells me something else.
"You have to tell me when something is wrong," He says, his fingers give my hand a light squeeze. He leans his face closer to mine, his lips press a kiss to my temple, "And one last thing... are you afraid of me?" He asks me this so quietly, I almost don't hear him over the sound of the water. But his lips are at my ear; his voice shakes, and I can tell he's just as nervous as me now. We both anticipate my answer.
I find my voice, and say, "Not of you... but of this." This as in us. As in relationships in general. This could be the start of an end, or something more; both of which scare me, I don't know which could hurt me more.
"Just remember, it's still new to me," He says, softly, "You're not alone." He presses a kiss to my forehead, light as a feather. I'm not sure how long I've waited for this, for someone to show me just how much they could care about another human being. For a moment, he pulls back and I catch myself looking from his eyes to his lips. They look soft. Tobias hesitates, a small dip forms between his brows, before he brushes his nose along my cheek, along my jaw, and carefully he brushes his lips against mine. At first, I'm not sure it even happened, I keep my eyes closed, anticipating. But then his fingers caress my cheek, and a second later he is kissing me harder, more confidence in his attempt.
It is over before I want it to be. I pull away, my throat dry and my lungs burning for air. I forgot to breathe, I only focused on his lips.
"Was that too much?" He asks, a shadow of worry in his features. I shake my head—in fact it was not enough.
"Does this make you my boyfriend, Tobias?" I ask, a sense of shyness washing over me.
"I'd like it to," he says, his voice calm. I feel the smile creep across my face, and I nod.
"Okay."
xXxXx
I find Christina and the others a while later; Al and Will have called it a night, Christina, Uriah, Marlene, and Tori are locked up in the tattoo parlor. They sit around in separate corners; I hear their laughter from down the corridor.
"Where have you been?" Christina asks as soon as she notices me; her short hair is pulled back, her arms are bare, with all of her tattoos exposed.
"With Four," Uriah grins, wiggling his eyebrows. I try to bite back the blush from creeping in, but I'm not sure it works. Christina pats the chair beside her.
"We have some things to talk about," she sing-songs, "I wanna know the details."
"Alright, I'm out," Uriah says, holding his hands up in mock surrender, "I'm not about girl talk; Four is like a brother to me, that's just gonna get weird."
"Oh come on," Tori rolls her eyes, "You don't wanna listen in and find something new to make fun of Four with, like always?"
"Don't worry," he smirks, "I'll just torture answers out of him some other time. Later." As he leaves, I feel like a piece of meat thrown to the sharks. Marlene, Tori, and Christina all stare at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something.
"So?" Marlene asks, her grin illuminates her entire face. "Did you guys kiss?"
"What was that like?" Christina nods. I feel beet red, all I can do is shrug my shoulders.
"Details now!" Marlene says, bouncing in the chair. I roll my eyes.
"I thought I was gonna have just Christina to deal with later," I sigh, but I can't contain my smile soon after, "We... kissed."
"Who kissed who?"
I feel a bubble of laughter, "he kissed me." I hear Tori snort, her shoulders shake with quiet laughter.
"I've known Four since high school, and not once did he ever go after a girl, or try to kiss one. Must be something with you Stiffs—like a magnet."
"Four doesn't have any tattoos?" Christina cries, shocked.
"He didn't," Tori says casually.
"Did he show you it?" Marlene asks me.
"I can't believe only two people in this room know what Four's tattoo looks like," Christina says, shaking her head, "Where is it?"
I bite my lip, "It's on his back." Tori nods.
"What does it look like?"
"More ink than skin," I say, replaying that night in my head.
"Did he have to take his shirt off?" Christina grins, falling back in her seat with a wicked grin. I feel my face getting hot. I think I would give just about anything to see him like that again.
"Yes..." I say almost inaudibly. Marlene and Christina burst into a fit of squeals and giggles, while Tori and I exchange a look.
"Everybody has a crush on Four," Tori says, shaking her head.
"Yeah, but he only has eyes for Tris," Marlene says, propping herself up on her knees.
xxxxx
Sometime later, Marlene and Christina decide to head back to the school to get some sleep. Tori wakes me up from the chair.
"You do realize it's past two in the morning, right?" Tori asks me. I look up at the clock on the wall—she is right.
"How could I have known when I was sleeping," I say, giving her a look. She rolls her eyes, but smiles anyways.
"Yeah, whatever," she says, "I don't think Christina and Mar are very far ahead." She turns the lock on the parlor doors, opening one for me. I watch her for a moment, a question comes to mind and I know she has the answer.
"Can I ask you something?"
She lets the door shut, and leans against the glass, "Sure."
"You said you've known To—Four, since high school—,"
"—You can call him by his real name in front of me," she smirks, "trust me, before Shauna and you came along, I was pretty much the only other female he had any sort of relationship with," I don't feel a flare of jealousy as she admits this; Tori seems to see him as her brother, and vice versa.
"Right," I say with a nod, "So you've know him a long time... what was he like back then?"
"Not much different," she shrugs, "Maybe a little quieter, less known. He still keeps to himself, but I think he's learned to let certain people in. You, for example," she waves a hand at me, then laughs to herself, "I'm sure Uriah has mentioned, he's never been with another girl. Poor Four... Uriah and Zeke always used to set dates up for him. They had good intentions, but they could never find a decent enough girl for him—someone equal to him. Most of them were vain, shallow, bitchy... narcissistic. The list goes on," Tori sighs, shaking her head again.
"When did he get his tattoo?" I ask.
"I finished it the day he had to throw those knives at you," she replies easily. Her answer catches me off guard; I don't remember any signs of it that night, I couldn't even tell he was in pain—maybe he barely noticed it himself? "Alright, I'll answer any other questions you have at a later time. It's already very late."
I thank her and head to the main area, making sure Eric is nowhere to be seen.
xXxXx
Tobias Eaton's POV
After a run down to the pier, through the city, and back, my legs are tired but Zeke wants to get some more hit practice in, so we head down to the training room. Shauna keeps trying to get Zeke to carry her on his back, and they wrestle about it behind me. Over their noise, I can't tell if I actually hear voices in the room or not. I frown, pushing it open and expecting to see Eric and his friends, but instead I see Uriah aiming at Marlene across the room, with Lynn and Tris against a table to the far right. They all jump, startled and Uriah hides his arms behind his back.
Silver eyes meet mine across the room. I am actually stunned to see her here—the others, not so much.
Zeke comes to a halt behind me, "How did I know it was you guys?" He asks. They visibly relax the moment they realize it's us, and Uriah grins—he turns back to Marlene and fires. The muffin that was on her head hits the floor. I notice the gun he's holding is like the ones we used to keep around the compound for fun; there's no way it's is; undoubtedly, it's Zeke's.
"What are you guys doing here?" Shauna asks, leaning against the closest table, "you're lucky it was us who showed up and not Eric, or his cronies." Lynn shrugs her off.
"Shooting a muffin off Marlene's head," Uriah replies. He's spinning the gun around his finger, but he accidentally squeezes the trigger and sends a small, green pellet off in our direction. Zeke dodges it, knocking into me. Zeke stands upright, holding his hand out as he walks closer to his brother.
"Give me that," he says. "How the hell did you get this?"
Uriah shrugs, "from your apartment." Shauna smirks, shaking her head. I grin—Zeke really needs to understand that he can't brother-proof the apartment while he's not there; it never works.
"It was locked."
He grins and says, "the magic of a female's hair pin." He looks so proud of himself.
"You left your key on the floor this morning," Zeke says, shaking his head. Zeke gets him into a headlock, wrestling with him for a few minutes before Uriah manages to free himself and stand up.
"You guys shouldn't be back here," I say.
"You wouldn't tell on us," Uriah's right; I nod, but I don't take back what I said. They were down here without us originally—if it hadn't been us who walked in, they'd be in trouble. "Besides, you're back here now. Is it not okay with you if we hang out here?"
Shauna speaks up, asking, "why do you want to?"
"Why not?" Lynn says, "We'll be at the pit later tonight, only makes sense that we stay here." She stands at Shauna's side now, and it surprises me that she's the same age as Uriah—I had forgotten that, given she's almost taller than Shauna now. Though Lynn doesn't look like Shauna much, except for her eyes and her jawline. She's a light brunette, but her hair's not nearly as blonde as Shauna's.
They definitely fight like sister's though. I can think of the few times Zeke has had to pry Shauna away just to keep Lynn's piercings in her skin.
Shauna sighs and turns to us, "well?" Zeke doesn't care much; I nod once. They head over to the bags while Uriah seeks out the target boards. Tris is watching me as I go over to one of the punching bags all the way at the end. My knuckles are swollen, black and blue and purple, but I wrap the tape around them anyway and start throwing punches.
I see a small body come up beside me; long, blonde hair being pushed back and I know it's her. She watches me for a few minutes, then asks, "how often do you come here?" I steal a glance at her; her eyes are bright as always, curious. They are looking at my hands though.
"Pretty often," I answer, "but usually just for fun. Zeke always likes to come down, so I go when he does." She nods, chewing on her bottom lip.
"Does that hurt?" She asks, looking at my hands. The bruises are hard to miss—I glance down at them, briefly, before shaking them out.
I shake my head, "not really, you get used to it after a while." I go again.
"Can I try?" I don't hold back my smile; just by looking at her, I know she won't be able to do much. Not that I'm saying she's not capable of it, but she's weak, physically. I decide I'll humor her, and let her try. It gives me the excuse to spend some time with her.
"You want to?" She nods, so I step back and let her take my place. I touch her shoulders, trying to fix her stance but she tenses up the moment I do, and I realize I probably shouldn't have done it. But I'm merely showing her what to do, and she relaxes slightly. I add some pressure to her shoulders, "let your arms relax." She does, and I nudge her feet apart a little more.
"Good," she's positioned almost perfectly now, "now—," I reach over her shoulders and circle her wrists, pulling her arms up to defend herself. One less bad habit to break. "—keep them up here; don't punch with your arms, punch with your weight." I show her how to; my fingers are gripping at the bend in her arm as I push it forward toward the bag.
She tries some on her own, losing her stance in between. I correct her arms a few more times, and she starts to get the hang of it. A momentary lapse in focus, I straighten her around the waist, pushing against her. In anything I've noticed her wearing, anything that hugs her the right way, she has always looked solid; not an ounce of anything else on her, but as my fingers hold her in place I notice her waist is soft. I hear her breath catch in her throat, and she looks up at me for a moment. I clear my throat, "keep tension here. It helps." Nice cover up.
Tris goes again, getting better, but eventually she steps back and lets me take over again. I was enjoying just watching her; the severe concentration on her face, the pout in her lips when she didn't quite hit it hard enough. Uriah calls her over then, and from the corner of my eye I see her nod, and then she's gone.
I stop after a minute, and turn around to watch; she's holding the gun, but she's fires it and misses the first time. "Not bad," Uriah says, nodding. He pushes the neck of it over some, just with the tips of his fingers and has her start again. This time, she hits the target dead on.
Tris grins, and her whole face lights up with it. She fires off a few more, only missing once; I don't know how long I watch her for, but Zeke taps my shoulder, saying we have to get going. He's needed at the security room, and I have to start patrolling the main area soon; we start heading for the door and I turn to the others, "people are probably filling in now. We should go." I catch the door with my foot, and they start to file out of the room.
Tris is second to last, I follow her out.
She walks with Uriah, who's aiming the gun at the back of Zeke's head, pretending to fire off pellets. Tris laughs, her shoulders shaking from it. I imagine, if it were anybody else but Uriah, I would feel a flare of jealousy.
"Sooo," I hear Lynn say obnoxiously, throwing an arm around Tris's shoulders, "what was all that about?" I want to stay and listen, but I have to change and meet with Tori before I head down.
xxxxx
"Max dropped off our paychecks," Tori grins, holding three envelopes, "I grabbed yours and Eric's." I thank her, and she begins to rip open her envelope.
Eric walks in, taking his envelope from Tori.
"Did you happen to see Max today?" He asks, "I've got some ideas I wanted to run by him."
"Uh oh," I mutter, peering up to see Eric giving me a hard glare.
"Something wrong, Four?" He sneers, "I was thinking of some beneficial ideas, to bring more people in."
"We already can't keep track of half the people you bring in here," I say. He leans across the table at me, his form of intimidation—he forgets, I could stand up.
"It's not my fault you're not around to do your job," Eric retorts, "Too busy catching something for a Stiff."
"That's enough, Eric," Tori sighs, rolling her eyes. She raises a brow at him, smirking as she says, "You both could learn to patrol the floor a little better."
"I have my half under control," he says, his voice low.
"Out of fear," I snort, "Intimidation... if that's what you call control."
"I would have cut more than just her ear, Four," he grins, "You don't have control when you show that much leniency."
"My intentions were to scare her," I lie easily, then say, "not kill her."
"Funny, you and I seem to differ on what scaring is."
"You and I tend to differ in more ways than that," I say, standing up now. I could fight him right now, show him who has more control—but this kind of anger reminds me of my father. His control was intimidation... brutality.
"Oohh," Eric holds his hands up, a wicked grin on his face, "Relax, Four. If she's nothing to you, why get so defensive?"
"Eric, that's enough," Tori warns, her voice harsh.
"Okay," he says, looking between the both of us, "Didn't mean to step on any toes. If Max comes back, let me know." With that, he exits. Tori and I stand in silence, watching the door until he is gone.
"You know, if you want to keep this girl out of his sights you might want to keep from dangling her vulnerability right in front of his eyes." Tori says, shaking her head.
"Because I defended her?"
"Eric is like a wild animal," she says, "show him a piece of meat, he's gonna hunt for it. I know you'd like to think he'll give up tormenting you eventually, but that's not who he is. I thought you'd learned that by now."
"I have," I reply with conviction. Tori watches me for a moment, then nods. Without another word, I leave the room too.
xXxXx
I make my way to the pit a little while later. It is packed when I arrive; Uriah is fighting a boy twice his size, but somehow he is winning.
I see Marlene and Lynn, cheering Uriah on; Tris stands with them, watching the fight intently. The last thing I ever want to see Tris try here, is going up against someone in one of Eric's matches. The closer I get, the more nervous I feel suddenly. My fingers itch to hold her hand again. When I am right behind her, I tap her shoulder twice. She turns to face me, a smile stretching across her face. I lean my head down, so my lips are purposefully at her ear.
"Do you want to stay here?" I ask her.
"Where did you have in mind?" She looks at me with curiosity, and something else.
"Somewhere quieter," I say. After a moment, she nods, and my hand finds the small of her back. I lead her away from the crowds, the noise, until we are walking side by side down to the chasm. I replay Eric's, and Tori's words from earlier in my head—I'm finding, very quickly, that I don't care about Eric's taunts. I will protect her from him, regardless of if it makes his games more exciting. I hear the rushing water below, and the air around us grows cold.
I cross jagged, wet rocks until I find the driest one above the calmest water below. I help Tris across the last rock, and she laughs when she is no longer in danger of falling, "This wasn't what I thought you meant when you said quieter," she teases.
"We can go somewhere else—," I suggest, but immediately she shakes her head.
"—No, no. I like it down here."
"Okay," I say. She sits down beside me, resting on her hands behind her, "I have a few questions. I'm hoping you can answer them for me." Tris nods, then straightens up like she thinks we are going to get serious. I watch her as she tries smooth at her jeans, and then I realize it is because she is cold.
"Well, for one, is Tris your real name? Or just a nickname?" I briefly remember our first night, when Eric was cornering her; I had asked her for her name. She started saying something else, but told me 'Tris'.
"Beatrice... that's my real name," she says, biting her lip. Beatrice. It is a lovely name, but it sounds too old for her. Tris is fitting.
"You said you transferred from New York," I ask, "but your parents stayed there. Do you have any family out here?"
"Just my brother," She says, twisting her fingers together in her lap, "he came with me."
"What's he like?" It isn't my original line of questions, but she seems anxious.
"He's incredibly smart," Tris says, "He's about a year older than me. We don't really argue... ever," she laughs, "He gives me advice, or suggestions, but I think we've started growing apart, since getting here. He's always off in the library, or the science labs. He just loves school."
"It's easy for him," it's not a question, but Tris nods, a small smile on her lips. As I look at her, I find myself admiring how even the smallest shift in her expressions can easily give away her emotions. It's charming, her emotions make her; it is almost easy to tell what she is thinking. She feels inadequate, compared to him. I decide to keep my questions directed at her, "Do you have a favorite subject?"
"History," she replies immediately, "We are supposed to learn from our mistakes in the past, but often times our mistakes are repeated." I wonder if she says that a lot, it almost sounds like she is reciting it from something. But I understand why it fascinates her.
"Can I ask you a ridiculous question?"
Tris smirks, and says, "You just did." I scoff, rolling my eyes.
"Do you have a favorite color?" I bite the inside of my cheek; I want to tell her mine is the silver in her eyes, or the warm gold of her hair, but I can't decide between the two.
She bites her lip; it makes me want to kiss her, because her lips look soft as her teeth sink into them. But I have to shake the thought from my head. I see a light blush rise to her skin, and she averts her eyes away from me, "...blue."
I wonder what her reaction means; if it is possible she likes me too.
"What's so embarrassing about blue?" I ask, unable to keep the smile from my voice. She nudges my shoulder, shaking her head, "Come on," I say, laughing. I feel a bit of courage in my chest, and bring my hand up to tuck her hair back. I say, "If you want to know mine, it's the gold in your hair," her eyes flicker to mine. And the silver mixing with green in your eyes...
Her skin turns bright pink, and she says, softly, "...your eyes are blue." I feel warmth spreading through my chest, filling me up in the most coldest of places.
"They are," I joke, watching her rolls her eyes. She laughs to herself.
"You seem very cocky when someone compliments you," she teases. My fingers play with the lock of her hair; I twist it around my fingers, gently, her eyes following the movements.
"Only when that someone is you," I say.
"What are you saying?" she asks. I have nothing to lose, except maybe her company if I scare her away. But she chose to sit here with me, above hazardous water, where nobody can find us. I press my lips to the top of her head, breathing her in like she is air and I can't get enough.
"I'm saying that I like you," I tell her, pulling back to look at her. She bites her lip again, and this time I recognize it as nerves.
"But you're older than me," she says after a moment. For a moment, I wonder if that is her only knowledge on love—or feelings... maybe love is too strong a word right now.
"Yes, that two-year gap really is insurmountable," I joke, watching as her eyes fall to our hands between us on the rock. I take her hand in mine and lift it to my chest, above my heart. It beats faster under her touch, and I know she can feel it, "You make me nervous too, Tris."
"Why me?" She asks, "I'm not pretty..." Oh, if only you could see through my eyes, Tris... I am baffled to hear her say she is not pretty—why would she tear herself down after what I've just told her?
"I don't know if I could answer that," I tell her with a shrug. It's almost like a magnetic pull, but it wasn't just one thing about her that intrigued me. It was how wide her eyes were when Eric cornered her, the relief I saw in them when she noticed me. It was how honest she was when I asked her why it happened in the first place. Her bravery for standing there as I threw knives at her; it was selfless, taking the place of her best friend. How kind she can be at any given moment. It's how perceptive she can be, she figures things out on her own; she is not just book smart, she is wiser in different ways, "You don't see yourself clearly," I tell her, shaking my head, "You are pretty, Tris. More than pretty." When my eyes flicker up to hers again, I see something I haven't seen before—like a longing. She makes self-control hard, looking at me like that...
"I don't want things to go too fast," she says, quietly.
"Of course," I tell her, "You can set the pace."
She breathes a sigh of relief, a smile stretching across her face. Her teeth bite down on her lip again, and this time I can't look away.
"You have to tell me when something is wrong," I say. I let our hands fall from my chest, but I do not let go. I lean close to her face; my lips against her temple, her ear, "And one last thing... are you afraid of me?"
Tris is silent for a few moments, her trepidation flows like the waves beneath our feet. "Not of you..." she finally says, "but of this."
"Just remember, it's still new to me," I say softly, "You're not alone." I press a kiss to her forehead, glad to be this free with her now. Her grip is just a little tighter now, and I notice her eyes go back and forth between mine and my lips. For a moment, I hesitate on what I should do. I lean in close, brushing my nose along her cheek, her jaw, and slowly I brush my lips across hers. I hold my breath, and I believe she does too, but she doesn't pull away.
I touch her cheek where my lips grazed a few seconds ago, or maybe minutes, I can't tell. I want to slow this moment down; I want to keep her here just a little longer. This time, I kiss her harder, finding my breath again. Her lips are soft like I imagined.
We fumble through the kiss, but we become more coordinated the longer I keep her in my reach, the more I slow it down. She breaks it first, her chest lightly heaving with each breath. I think she forgot to breathe.
"Was that too much?" I ask. Tris shakes her head, her skin flustered. She looks more beautiful now, a bit disoriented and blushing.
"Does this make you my boyfriend, Tobias?" She asks, shyly.
"I'd like it to," I say.
She smiles, "Okay."
xxxxx
For what follows, we sit and talk and kiss a little more, deep within the chasm. I walk Tris back to the pit, and steal one last kiss in the shadows, before she heads off to find Christina, or Uriah.
That night I find myself dreaming about her laughter, and the way her eyes peeked open after I kissed her, like I would disappear if she opened them completely.
It is the best night's sleep I have had in a long time.
xXxXx
Before Tris, it was usually just Zeke and Shauna, and occasionally Uriah, I trusted my thoughts with. Before her, I preferred the silence and isolation because I was used to it all my life. But now since I met her, I don't want to hide away and forget how she makes me feel. Before her, the urge to hold a girl's hand, or to kiss a girl, rarely occurred to me. There were no warm stirrings in my stomach that became violent bursts of excited anxiety, and there were no absentminded touches. And it's only been with her that these feelings come alive.
I find myself in an almost obnoxious happiness the next morning. I head to the control room for my shift, Zeke is already sitting at a monitor when I arrive.
"Long night?" Zeke asks me, a smirk on his face.
"Not really," I shrug, "Why?"
"Your poker face is shameful," he scoffs. I roll my eyes.
"Not a long night," I repeat, then lift a shoulder, "but a good one."
"Out with the stiff?" He gives me a knowing look. I shake my head.
"You do realize we can no longer call her that, right?"
"I know," Zeke says, rolling his eyes this time, "Force of habit. So... what happened? Are you two together now?"
"Actually, yes," I retort, grinning to myself. I think back to last night, our first kiss by the chasm. I zone out most of what Zeke says, only to hear him finish with...
"We'll see how long she puts up with you."
"You know, your lack of confidence in me is very reassuring," I say, feeling indignant. I'm almost positive he's referring to all of the other girls he's set me up with; Tris is different. Much different.
"Well, you're not exactly nice," he says, then he adds, "sometimes."
"I'm not gonna offend her," I grumble, defensively. Though I don't know that for sure. All I know is that I can try, and for what it's worth, she doesn't seem to be too easily offended.
"I'm happy for you, man," Zeke says after a few moments, peeking over at me from his monitor. I see the hint of a smile in his features, the computer blocks half of his face. I nod in thanks, and turn on the monitor in front of me.
