Author's Note:
I took forever to update. I know. I am so sorry! I don't like to take such long time to update any more than you all do; I am sorry! I've been having fun building up a good foundation for a story I started about a month ago, "Wearing His Jersey". I'm liking the story so far; I think it has a good beginning, so I'm writing this chapter. I've been missing "Jumping Through the Stars" and "In and In"; I haven't updated either in about a month.
Anyway, I apologize.
"Jumping Through the Stars"
Chapter Thirteen
Tris' P.O.V.
As I backed the car out of the driveway, I saw my friends appear in the door, yelling for me to stop.
"Tris, it's not safe! You don't have the control you need; you can't move your leg or arm!"
"Get out of the car!"
"Come back!"
"Tris, we don't want you to get hurt; you need to come back here!"
"Tris, what are you doing? You've got to come back here!"
I ignored them all.
I used my movable foot to press the gas, and I sped down these street, trying to figure out which direction Four took off in. I rolled down the window all the way, trying to get a better look around, and stuck my head out the window as I sped down the street.
"Four!" I yelled. No one responded, other than the now faint yells of my friends back at my house.
"Tris, get out of the car." I looked over and saw Zeke sitting in the front passengers' seat of Shauna's car, her at the wheel.
"No."
"Tris, really, what do you think you are going to accomplish by doing this?" Shaun reasoned. "You might get hurt, which isn't a risk you should be taking. You are hurt enough as it is. Get out of the car."
"No."
"Why not?" Zee asked.
"Because." Why am I really doing this? He's one of my closest friends, yes, which is a large portion of the reason; I don't want him to get hurt, and I want to know what he is doing. But, he took off running down the street; why do I think that he won't be okay? He can take care of himself, so what am I following him for?
I'm following him because of the chance he isn't okay.
"Because why, though?" Zeke prodded.
"Because! No one else went to see if he's okay, or tried to find out what's wrong. It seems like I'm the only one who cares!" I was yelling. Their car pulled to a halt. I looked around and halted next to them.
"Tris, don't you get it?" Zeke asked quietly.
"Get what?" I prodded, annoyance clear in my voice. If he wanted me to know, I want to just be told, not asked whether I 'get it' or not, especially when I've got no idea as to what he's talking about.
"He needs time. He ran away, because he had something he needed to do, without us. If he wanted us with him, we would have gone. We aren't going to intrude on it; this happens to him sometimes. He just needs some time." After a serious moment, he smirked. "And you like him."
"What?"
"I said, 'you li-"
"I know what you said. Why do you think that?"
"It's pretty obvious, Tris," he laughed.
"But, I don't." As I said it, I got a funky feeling in the middle of my stomach. Do I like him? No, I barely know him!
"Okay, sure." I rolled my eyes at Zeke and pressed the gas pedal, taking off in the direction I guessed he'd have gone in. I stuck my head back out the window.
"Four!" I waited a moment, hoping to get a response, but fully knowing I probably wouldn't. "Four!"
"What do you want?" I heard a tired voice say, and looked over to the side. Four was seated under a tree in the park, his knees up and head resting on them. I sighed and pulled the car to the side of the road.
"Four!"
"Yeah."
"What the heck was that?"
"What?" I rolled my eyes and attempted to push the door open.
"What do you mean, 'what;? You an't just take off like that! You scared us all."
"Really?" he laughed, but I couldn't tell what was funny. "Because I know that the rest of them weren't worried."
"Yes, they were," I defended. I didn't want him to think they didn't care, because they do; they definitely do. They just didn't want to come after him. Four just laughed.
"Tris, no they didn't. They know not to come after me. You're the only one who I haven't told to just leave me be for a few hours when I flip. I never thought I would have another panic attack like that." I scrunched up my brow as I finally got the car door open. I pulled my right leg out of the car with my left hand, setting it on the ground. I put my other foot out and pushed myself to my feet and closed the car door.
"Panic attacks?" I asked as I hopped over to Four, my right leg falling limply behind my, my right arm falling at my side. Will I ever be able to move them again? I pushed the thoughts aside; this wasn't the time.
"Yes," he said, and nodded.
"What panic attacks?" I asked, hoping I wasn't prying too much. He sighed.
"A few years ago, I was told by my father that my mother had passed away over night due to a baby that was on the way. I was supposed to have a younger sister," he whispered. Then, he straightened. "And I believed him. But, then, about a year ago, I got a letter in the mail, and when I opened it, it was from my mom. She's alive, but she'd never tell me much about herself; I asked a lot of times about her: where she worked, what she liked to do, and more. I only got vague answers, though. I stopped getting panic attacks after a while; I was no longer so surprised whenever a light blue envelope came in the mail, holding a letter from her. I have never seen her since I found out she's alive. Not yet anyway. When you all said who she was back there, I knew I'd be meeting her again soon. I panicked. How will I see her? Will she know me? What if she isn't subbing there anymore, it turns out it was only a few days? What if she doesn't want to see me?"
"Four," I said. "Tell me: why wouldn't she want to see you?" He was quiet for a moment.
"I don't know."
"I think you have some idea of why, or you probably wouldn't be worried about it."
"Well, we just haven't seen each other in so long . . . "
"Wow," I laughed. "You're an awful liar." He turned to me.
"What do you mean?" he asked defensively, and I could see the hint of a smile on his mouth.
"I mean I know you are lying to me."
"How do you know that?" He let a second slip by. "What makes you thin that?"
"Your excuse didn't match the expression on your face."
"How can you tell like that?"
"I'm smart. Now talk."
"Fine. I haven't seen her in so long, and when she left, she left me with my father, who . . . uh . . .well, he isn't the best at keeping his temper under control."
"Oh, I see now," I said. "All you had to do was tell me that." I reached up and touched his shoulder. He turned to me and the look of slight pain on his face turned to astonishment.
"Tris," he said, staring at my hand.
"Yeah?" I gave him a confused look.
"Look at your hand."
"What about it?" I wiggled my fingers.
"Tris, that hand has been paralyzed for-"
"Oh my gosh!" I squealed and grabbed my right hand with my left. I stared at it, then stuck it in front of his face. "It's moving!" I yelled.
Author's Note
Sorry for taking so long to update! I really hope you all enjoyed that chapter, and feel free to give me ideas for what should happen next! Thank you all for reading; I really appreciate it!
~MoMaster