I can't keep Al out my head all throughout training. But it's not just him. It's Four, too. He keeps staring at me and it's hard to concentrate when I know those blue eyes are focused me. And because he's staring, I'm very aware of everything that I'm doing. I can't help but stumble through my demonstrations. I don't know what his problem is. From the way he showed up at my room this morning and then his offering to get to know me…I can't help but think that it's all some kind of joke. He can't really want to talk to me, can he? And what did that sigh mean? Why did he sound relieved that I said I would think about letting him make it up to me? What does any of it even mean?

"Tris."

I mean, if it's a game, I've been pretty good at figuring things out, so maybe I'll be able to tell. I don't know that I've always been good at reading people, per se; figuring out what they've wanted, but growing up in Abnegation trained me in ways that I never thought would be useful here in Dauntless. I spent most of my childhood studying people because it was never acceptable for me to open my mouth. The speak-only-when-spoken-to ideal is a very strong pillar in the Abnegation values. So if he wants to mess with me, I can't let him get under my skin. Though the thought of him under my skin…

"Tris."

I raise my head and see Four staring at me. The Pit has emptied and I've been twirling a knife in my hand for the last ten minutes. Shit. How must I have looked to the initiates? They wouldn't be brave enough to go against their trainer right? No one would say something about how I'm not doing my best to concentrate? I can't risk them moving me to the fence. I would go crazy out there, I just know it.

"Yes, what?" I ask.

"It's lunch," he says, looking at me as if I'm a wounded animal. Where does he get off? "Did you want to go get some food?"

I shake my head. "I'm not really hungry," I say. It's not like I don't appreciate the offer. I just don't think I could keep anything down after the whirlwind of seeing Al. How is he here? How is he alive?

Four is still standing in front of me, that same look on his face. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I tell him. "If you're hungry, you should go. I don't need to be looked after, even if you and Eric think that I do."

"Please stop lumping me with Eric," Four says. "It's…unsetting."

I scoff. "Unsetting how? You two are exactly the same person."

He looks offended. "That's the furthest thing from being true."

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what I said, Tris," Four says. "I'm not Eric and Eric is not me."

"You treated me the same."

"I already apologized for that." His voice is softer.

I realize at this point that I'm still holding the knife in my hands and that is probably the reason that he's been looking at me that way the entire time. I put it down on the table and shake my head to clear my thoughts. Yes, that's a good explanation for it. Especially since at the moment I can't think of another reason. I need an answer. And maybe asking Four isn't the best idea, but he's the only one here right now and I don't have anyone else to talk to. I let out a breath.

"Can I ask you a question?"

His eyes are dancing and there's color in his cheeks. Is that…excitement?

"Of course."

"Am I crazy?"

His eyebrows come together on his forehead. "Why would you think that?"

"Al."

He opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but closes it just as fast. Is he unsure how to answer or is he trying to think up a lie?

"What do you remember?"

"What I remember shouldn't be different than what you remember," I tell him, careful not to snap at him. He's answering my questions and after the rough relationship we've had the past year, I don't want to risk him mouthing off or getting pissed at me. Having to train with him is difficult enough as it is. Being in such close proximities has been hard. Especially since this morning…and my body responding to his the way that is has. It's very…unsettling. There's that word again. "Al jumped into the chasm. He killed himself."

"Why?"

His question throws me. "What do you mean why?"

"Why did he kill himself?"

"I don't know," I say. "He didn't exactly leave a note."

He takes another step toward me, so my body reacts and takes a step back. Just because I like him close to me doesn't mean it doesn't freak me out. He notices me reaction, so he stops and looks at me, his lips together in a grim line.

"Think about it, Tris," he says, his voice calm and urging. "Why would he just jump?"

"The stress of testing?" I shrug.

"Think harder." Four's voice is getting more and more eager, excited. Why does he sound like that? And why does he look to happy right now? It's not like we're talking about something amazingly good. This is serious stuff. And because this is serious stuff, I have to concentrate. I have to think about what he's telling me to do. Why did Al jump? Why did Al kill himself?

A memory flashes in my mind of me struggling to breathe as I fight off…someone…at the edge of the chasm. My body is pressed up against the railing and there are hands on my body. My eyes flash open and bile rises in my throat.

"Are you okay?"

I don't respond, because I don't have an answer. And even if I did, would I want to tell Four that I had almost been killed? Actually. He probably knew about it. The same way that Eric knew about Peter stabbing Edward in the eye and did nothing about it. Anger rises within me.

"You knew!" Now I don't care if I snap at him because I'm pissed. Overly-pissed. Even if this is a new memory, it doesn't mean that it didn't happen…right?

He takes a step back from me, holding his hands up to defend himself. "What did I know?" He asks, his voice wary. "What do you remember?"

"You knew what they did to me that night," I say, my voice a harsh whisper. "But you did nothing about it."

Understanding dawns on his face. He drops his hands and shakes his head. "That's not true," he says. "Try to really remember that night."

"Why would I want to think about that night? It was horrible and you did…you did…" I trail off because the scene continues and I see Four knocking the three on their asses, and him taking me back…to his room! What?! I stare at him, open mouthed. "What the fuck?"

He swallows and runs a hand through his hair. "I held back that night," he says. "I could have inflicted more damage on them, but I restrained myself because I though you would look differently at me."

I shake my head. It doesn't feel like my memory. It feels completely alien; not belonging to me. Like a memory implanted in my mind. But the more I think about it, the more I see. I lean against the table, needing the support as my knees start to give out. Four is at my side, supporting me, and leading the way to the bleachers. We sit down together and he pulls his hands from me. I notice my body losing heat as he does, wishing they were still on me. I feel a flush spread through my cheeks at the thought.

"I keep…" I sputter the words out.

"What?"

"I keep having these thoughts and they've come out of nowhere and I don't know if I like them or not."

"What are they?"

I blush a deeper shade of crimson. "I can't tell you."

He doesn't say anything for a few moments. "Can I ask you something?" he asks, using my own words against me. I can't say no, not after what we've just discussed. He saved me from going over the edge and to my certain death that night, the least I can do is hear him out and take him up on his offer at making it up to me.

"Yes."

"Can you not call me Four?"

I turn to look at him, confused. Not call him Four? "What else am I supposed to call you then? I mean, I can't just call you nothing."

The corner of his mouth twitches and I have a strong urge to press my lips there. My eyes go wide and I inwardly chastise myself to get it under control.

"Tobias," he says. "Please call me Tobias."

The name triggers something in my gut and I nod, unable to move my eyes from his.

"Tobias then."