"Shit."
"No, no, no," I gasp.
My fingers shake. I set down the pregnancy test and wash my hands. I'm in a daze. I stumbled out to when Christina is. She doesn't say anything and I love her so it. She knows I need a second. But I cover my eyes and groan. She's already knows but asks anyway.
"What happened, Tris?"
"Positive," I say.
"I don't know if I should congratulate you or not," she replies, her eyes wary, "I think it's a good thing. What do you think Tobias will say?"
"I don't know!" I snap. She puts her hands up in apology, "Sorry, sorry," I mutter, adding on, "But I don't want to be a mother."
She smiles and I know she can't help it. She catches my glare and tries to hide her smile. I close my eyes and let out a long sigh. I'm tapping my foot. Thinking of what I should do. I don't want to tell Tobias, at least not yet, and I don't want to see a doctor either.
"It's going to be fine, Tris," Christina jumps to her feet and wraps her arms around me, "How long have you been pregnant, though?" She asked.
"I don't know!" I'm angry. At myself? I don't really know, "I don't want to see a doctor, Christina. Tobias will find out and I don't want him to. Not yet."
She shakes her head, "No, see a doctor," she shushes me before I can talk, "Don't tell him why, just say you think you have a bad stomach bug. He'll understand and I can handle training on my own, for now."
"Fine," I shove her playfully away, "If you tell a soul, I will throw you in the chasm. I won't even regret."
She sucks her teeth and snickers, "Sure, sure."
.
I'm walking back into our apartment. My feet bang up the metal stairs. If Tobias is home, he knows I'm coming. My hands keep dropping to my stomach, to feel if it's bigger, or different in anyway. I can't feel any difference. I reach the top of the stairs pause at the door. My nausea has passed. I tell myself to be brave and push the door open.
Tobias sits at the kitchen table. It's made for only two, will me need a third chair? I chid myself for even thinking something so stupid. I walk up behind Tobias and wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face into his shoulder. He's warm.
"Where did you go?" His voice isn't angry, only polite curiosity, but there are undertones of concern, "I was worried."
"The doctor," I try to keep my voice light, "And she said that I'm..." I can't force the word past my lips.
"Your?"
"I have a stomach bug," I shrug, "I feel kind of okay now, but I don't really know how long it will last."
He turns and locks eyes with me. Then he stands and wraps me in a bear hug. I laugh and tell him I'm fine. I think my voice quivers a little at the word fine. I'm not. I can't even tell him why. I can't be brave enough to say. He scoops me up against his chest and eases an arm under my knees.
My face is red, "Four," I say, "Put me down."
He starts to carry me to the bedroom, "You need lots of rest, and you'll get better in no time," I know he isn't being very serious, and I feel terrible lying to him.
I push away from him and land in my feet. He smiles and I frown. I'm telling myself, tell him! Tell him! But I can't and I don't, and I lie down to rest once more. He lies next to me and wraps his arms around me. I close my eyes, and go to sleep, hating myself for not being brave enough. I'll tell him tomorrow.
.
When I wake up, Tobias has already gotten up, and I hear him rummaging around the kitchen. I roll over and am pleased that I feel perfectly normal. I pull my shirt up and study my stomach in the mirror. Nothing. I tug my shirt down and turn away. I get dressed quickly, in black sweats and a dark red tank top. I walk out to the kitchen and snag an orange.
"Go back to bed," Tobias rolls his eyes, "You're sick."
"I feel fine now," I toss the peel in the garbage, "I want to help train, and don't stop me."
He sighs and doesn't argue. I grin and finish eating. He's already ready and I lace my boots and slip into a jacket. We walk hand in hand down the stairs and into the pit. We argue about what day capture the flag should be held. The sooner the better. He wants it later on though.
"Good morning, lovebirds," it's Christina, "Why Tris, have you gained weight?" She flashes her teeth and breaks into a run.
"Oh?" I chase her, "Why would you even say that?" I catch her and pull her ponytail. Not hard. She and I share a look. "Asshole."
She whoops and we enter the training room, waving goodbye to Tobias. There's a ragged group of initiates waited. They look bruised and exhausted. It's only been two days. Christina must have worked them hard. They stand in a half circle around us and I see several are looking at me. Because I'm small? It's true a handful are taller than me.
"You guys look great," Christina smirks, "Tris is back, she was out sick yesterday. Let's start matching you up to fight..." She trails off and glances at me, "You get to pick."
I sweep my eyes over them. There are two boys with strong builds and one girl who is tall and seems more or less formidable. There are two small girls and one short, stocky boy. The rest seem pretty average. I am about to point out to Christine who I've matched up, and someone interrupts.
"How old are you? You look younger than us," it's a boy. One of the taller boys. He meant it to sound innocent, curious, but I can tell he meant it to insult me.
"Older than you," I reply, yawning, "Do you really want to pick a fight with me?"
"Why not?" He asks grinning, "I'm brave enough, I guess."
Laughs break out as he flexes his muscles. I glance at Christina. She suppresses her laughter and I smirk. I step up to him and look in his eyes, "Do you really want to pick a fight with me?" I repeat. I want to show him his place.
"Yep," his voice is low. He's confident he'll win. He mutters so only I hear, "I pick fights I can win."
"Christina, I choose this boy for the first fight," I take off my jacket, "And me."
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