I come down to the Pit after dinner and continue training. Everyone is hanging around the dorms, or getting tattoos or trying on clothes or even hanging out in the computer room. I had only used a computer at school when I was working on assignments because my parents believed that they were time consuming and they made people selfish. So outside of school, I never had access to them. And I didn't mind, I spent most of my time making sure that my parents didn't find out the truth about myself and how I wasn't really the selfless type of girl. I could take some of my free time and learn what all the fuss was about computers and their interactive screens, but the only thing that I really want to focus on is training. It's mostly because I do want to get better and learn to fight and take care of myself. But another part of me is hoping that Four will join me. The moments that I've spent with Four when it was just the two of us, they were some of my favorite. Sure, the attention he gives me irks me, but that doesn't mean that I don't enjoy his company. I want to know more about him and I want to know what makes him tick. Finding that out is one of the things I've added to my long list of things that I want to accomplish. But making it over the red line is number one on that list. Because I don't get that taken care of, the rest of the list won't matter, because I won't belong here anymore. And I can't take that risk. So I train. And I will train every night that I can.

I'm back at the punching bag, throwing punches and feeling the sting run up my arms with every blow that I land. And then I hear footsteps. I don't know who it is, but my heart races like it could be Four coming toward me. I don't want to get my hopes up or make it obvious that I had been wanting him to join me, so I don't turn around. I keep working, and I keep trying.

"Wow, Tris."

It's not Four. It's Al, and my heart sinks inside of my chest. I know how Al looks at me and I have a general understanding about how he might feel about me, but I don't remember doing anything that would encourage that kind of behavior.

I drop my hands and I turn toward him. "Hey," I say. "What's up?"

"What, uh, what are you doing down here?" he asks. "Training was over at six."

"I know," I say, nodding. "I just want extra time...to get better."

"Oh," he says. He's watching me and I feel very naked in my tank top.

I cross my arms over my chest and bite my lower lip. Did you...did you need something?"

He shakes his head. "No," he says, running his fingers through his hair.

I want to look anywhere but at him, because I don't remember being this uncomfortable in a conversation before. What does he want? My eyes are drawn to the main entrance of the Pit and I see Four standing there, watching the two of us. His mouth is turn down in a frown and I look back at Al.

"I'll be down in a couple of hours," I say quickly, hoping that Al didn't notice my momentary distraction.

Al looks taken aback, but he just nods and then lets out a sigh as he leaves the Pit. I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I had been keeping in before turning back to the punching bag. After a few moments, Four is next to me and I am not surprised.

"Your boyfriend looked disappointed."

But this definitely surprises me. I look at him. "My what?"

"Your boyfriend," Four says. "Why did you send him away?"

I raise my eyebrows at him and shake my head. "Al is not my boyfriend," I tell him. "Where did you even come up with that?"

"From the way he looks at you," Four says. "I just figured that you two were a thing or something."

I can't help but laugh. "No," I say with a smile. "What, were you jealous?" It was meant to come out as a joke, but I wasn't, because I really wanted to know the answer to the question. Was he jealous? And if he was, what did it mean?

He doesn't say anything, and the lack of the answer is answer enough, right? Not saying anything is just as bad as saying something. It implicates you...maybe in different ways, but it implicates nonetheless. He keeps his eyes on me and I bite my lower lip, not quite knowing what to say at this point so I just scratch at a phantom itch on my arm.

"What if I was?"

I swallow and stare at him, surprised. "What if you were what?"

"What if I was jealous?"

I shake my head. "Why would you be?" I ask. "I mean, look at me."

He confused. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah I'm serious," I tell him. "I'm not pretty, Four."

"Hey..."

"No, don't try that with me," I tell him. "There are far prettier girls here that you could be paying attention to me."

He narrows his eyes at me. "What makes you think that I care about your looks?"

"Don't you?"

He laughs. "God, Tris, really?" he says, shaking his head. "Come on, you're smarter than that, aren't you?"

I am offended, so I just nod and turn away from him heading to the bleachers to grab my sweater. I hear his footsteps and know that he's following me. It doesn't take any time to catch up with me given the height difference between the two of us.

"You're right, okay?" he says. I don't look at him as I pull my sweater over my head. "There are far prettier girls here. But in case you hadn't noticed, I'm not talking to them."

"I had noticed," I answer. "Why is that?"

"Do you want the truth?"

I drop my hands to my side. "Yeah, I want the truth!"

"It's because of your eyes," he tells me.

"I don't understand."

"From the first moment that I saw you, I knew you were different," he says. "You had a look in your eyes like you were determined to be here...wanting to change."

I lift my chin. "I do want to change."

"Good," he says, taking a step toward me. "Because that's what Dauntless is all about. Changing you and everything that you once stood for.

"Then it's a good reason that I didn't have anything to stand for."

He looks down at the spot where my tattoo is, but now covered by the sweater. "Not even your family?"

I lick my lips and shrug. "I don't know," I say. "There were my family…but aren't you supposed to be someone else outside of your family?"

He stares at me, his dark blue eyes unblinking on my own. "Yeah," he says after a while. "You are."

I sit down on the bleachers and he sits down on the step above me, so I turn to look at him. "Seriously though, "I say. "What do you see in me?"

"The other girls here," he says, gesturing to the building. "The ones you say are far prettier than you are?" I nod. "They know they're pretty and a lot of them take far too much pride in the fact. I think that it's a gross quality. And it's one that you don't have, which is something I find extremely attractive."

Attractive. I blush and bite my lower lip. "That's a word that's never been used to describe me," I say.

"I think you might be selling yourself short there."

"I don't think so."

"Come on, Tris," he says. "Can you just let me pay you a compliment?"

"Depends."

"Oh what?"

"On whether or not you have ulterior motives."

"What ulterior motives would I have?"

I don't have an answer to that, so I just smile and shake my head. "Fine," I say. "You can pay me a compliment," I say. "I just…I've never…." I trail off because what I'm about to say sounds ridiculously insane right now. And childish and I don't want to come off that way.

"You've never what?"

"I've never liked anyone before," I tell him. "Not like this."

He raises his eyebrows at me, a half smile on his lips. "You like me?"

I make a face and turn away from him. "Can we just forget this conversation ever happened?"

I hear him chuckle. "No," he says. "No we can't."

I hear him get up and when I turn to look, he's sitting next to me, his face close to mine. My breath catches, but I can't look away. I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. "Why not?"

His dark blue eyes are locked on mine and he smiles. "Because that would just be counterproductive."

And then he leans in and presses his lips to mine.