So the first part of this chapter is the beginning of Chapter 13 in Divergent, I think. All I remember is the first part of this chapter is from the book...the rest isn't. And you guys are probably either yelling profanities at me now, or will after reading the chapter. I had most of the chapter done like, Wednesday, but then something happened so I couldn't finish it this Friday and had to wait till tonight. ...Sorry?
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Part 3:
"I can't believe I missed it!" Will says again, shaking his head. Wind coming through the doorway of the train car blows his hair in every direction.
"You were performing the very important job of staying out of our way," says Christina, beaming.
Al groans. "Why did I have to be on the other team?"
"Because life's not fair, Albert. And the world is conspiring against you," says Will. "Hey, can I see the flag again?"
Peter, Molly, and Drew sit across from the members in the corner. Their chests and backs are splattered with blue and pink paint, and they look dejected. They speak quietly, sneaking looks at the rest of us, especially Christina. That is the benefit of not holding the flag right now—I am no one's target. Or at least, no more than usual.
"So you climbed the Ferris wheel, huh," says Zeke. He stumbles across the car and sits next to me. Shauna, his girlfriend, follows him.
"Yes," I say.
"Pretty smart of you. Like...Erudite smart," Shauna says. "I'm Shauna."
"Tris," I say. If Caleb were here, he'd object in less than a millisecond flat.
"Yeah, I know who you are," she says.
Zeke takes one of the paintballs from his gun and squeezes it between his thumb and index finger. The train lurches to the left, and Zeke falls against me, his fingers pinching the paintball until a stream of pink, foul-smelling paint sprays on my face.
Shauna collapses in giggles. I wipe some of the paint from my face, slowly, and then smear it on his cheek. The scent of fish oil wafts through the train car.
"Ew!" He squeezes the ball at me again, but the opening is at the wrong angle, and the paint sprays into his mouth instead. He coughs and makes exaggerated gagging sounds.
I wipe my face with my sleeve, laughing so hard my stomach hurts.
If my entire life is like this, loud laughter and bold action and the kind of exhaustion you feel after a hard but satisfying day, I will be content. As Zeke scrapes his tongue with his fingertips, I realize that that life will be mine. I will make sure it is.
+++
We all enter the hotel separated by what team we were on. Our team, whooping and hollering, with Christina in its center raising the flag high, and Eric's team, sneaking distasteful glances at us and looking pissed as hell, in a rush to get to their hotel room in order to hide their shame.
I look behind me and see Four advance towards Eric. He nudges Eric with his elbow, smiling, and Eric turns away, grunting in both frustration and annoyance. I can't hide the smile that spreads across my face.
+++
I exit the bathroom right after stripping into my pajamas. As I check my bag to make sure I have all of my belongings, I hear a knock at the door. I wonder who it is.
Christina is busy at the after party that was thrown in honor of our team winning. Everyone can attend, winner or loser. I decided I wanted to get some sleep. I mean, with Zeke and Uri's party tonight and me not being a party-girl I don't think I could handle two parties in one day. Yes, it's about 1 AM in the morning. I'll be lucky if I can catch a few hours to sleep, really.
I head in the direction of the door. My eye finds its way to the peephole, and in one quick motion, I have the door open.
He scratches the back of his neck. "Hey," he says, eyes lifting to mine.
"What are you doing here, Four?" I laugh lightly.
He lets out a small chuckle, too. "May I come in?"
I step aside and gesture for him to enter. He takes a few steps, standing right in front of my bed, and waits for me to finish closing the door. I lock the door and place the chain for extra protection. Not because I think we'll need it, but because it's habit...and makes me feel more at ease.
"So," I advance a few steps, "what are you doing here?" I lean against the closet, with only a few feet between us.
He shrugs his shoulders. "Well, I realized I never properly congratulated you."
"And what exactly do you consider a proper congratulation?" I ask, making air quotes around "proper congratulation".
He looks down at his feet. "I won't do something you don't want, honest." He looks up at me. "But I am hoping you don't mind company...even if it isn't your favorite."
I pretend to ponder that for a moment, tapping my chin for extra effect. "I suppose I won't mind company...even if it isn't my favorite," I smirk.
He takes a step towards me. "So, I'm welcome."
"I never said you were welcomed, I just said that you are accepted."
He takes another step towards me. "What do you want to do? I know neither of us will enjoy being bored in here doing nothing."
"We could climb another Ferris wheel..." I look at him and notice his face pale. I can't help but laugh. "I'm joking."
"I figured. But still, the memory..." he shudders.
I take a good look at him. "You're that afraid of heights, huh?" I gnaw on my bottom lip.
"Not the heights," he says, looking away.
I rub my hands on my thighs, realizing I'm wearing his shirt...right in front of him. He obviously looked back in time to notice, too.
"Oh yeah. I forgot...you were wearing my shirt when we came to get you," he says, pointing at my shirt. "Do they work well as pajamas?" He seems amused.
I can't help the blush that washes over me. I put my hands to my cheeks in order to cool it down. "Sorry, it's just..." I fumble around, trying to come up with a believable excuse. "...the laundry was backed up, and so I decided to um...wear this."
"Really?" He picks at my shirt. "I thought you said you have no reason to wear it and never will." He pinches it this time.
"Hey," I complain. I move away from him while his hand was still sorta pinching it, and he gets a pretty good view of my bare legs. He retreats his hand and stands there with his mouth agape, staring at where his hand was. I mentally face-palm.
"Uh, sorry...er, I didn't mean to..." I trail off, wondering what I should say and what I want to say.
"You're wearing panties, right?" he asks.
I stare at him, shocked. How could he possible use the word so flippantly, especially with me? But then it occurs to me: this is Four. The all-around manwhore.
"I don't see how that is any of your concern," I reply, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Is it black?" he asks.
It takes me a few moments to realize what he means, but then it dawns on me. I punch him in the arm and he steps back.
"Okay, okay." He puts his hands up defensively.
I move a little closer towards him, and lean against the wall.
"Um, what are members?" I ask him.
He chuckles. "Do you not read the brochure they give you in the beginning of your first year?"
"There's a brochure?!"
His laughter fills the room this time. "Yes, and I guess I'll have to look over it sometime with you."
"I guess. You didn't really answer my question," I tell him.
The memory of me asking seems to hit him. "Oh yeah. Sorry," he says, scratching behind his ear. "Well, members are basically anyone who isn't experiencing their first year at the school. Mostly consists of people who aren't freshman. I told you earlier that initiates are freshmen...well, most are. Some initiates are in other grades. It all depends on how long you've been at the school."
"So, you're a member?"
He nods his head.
"And I'm going to go out on a whim here and say you're studying to be Dauntless."
He nods his head again. "But, I don't think it could actually be considered as 'studying', seeing how it is Dauntless," he says, finger-quoting "studying".
"What did you mean by teamwork not being a Dauntless priority?" I ask him.
He seems to evaluate his words before beginning his explanation. Once he is done evaluating, he replies, "you know how over time, something loses it authenticity?"
"Yes," I reply. "But what does that have anything to do with—"
He cuts me off, "well, over time, some of the factions have lost their true intentions."
I stumble for my words. That truly came as a shocker. "Do you mean, like, in school...or our whole city?"
He takes a good look at me. Then he starts, "it's not like factions are that important. It's not like society is divided into these five factions. We just have different groups of people living in different places. I mean, it's just like how people who live in the Upper South region are known for having southern accents. Like most truthful people live in Candor, the modest, selfless people live in Abnegation, daring and brave like to crash at Dauntless, and the peaceful, annoying assholes decide to stay in the Amity region of Chicago."
"Tobias, you don't need to explain everything to me. I was born here. I've been living here my whole entire life, literally," I tell him. "All I want to know is if the factions you were talking about are the ones from school or the ones in Chicago."
"It's mostly school, Tris," he says, putting his hands on my shoulders in an assuring way.
"Mostly?" I exclaim.
He looks away, with his hands still on my shoulders.
"Mostly?" I repeat.
He looks back at me, and he seems to soften. "It's not that big of a deal. But, yes, it does exist outside of school."
"Oh."
He backs away from me, just a few inches.
I want to ask him which factions. I want to ask him how they changed. But I don't think now is the time to talk about it.
"So you plan on living in the Dauntless faction?" I ask him, trying to change the subject.
"Yeah. I value their bravery." He doesn't elaborate, so I decide to just leave it at that. He turns towards me. "Which faction do you plan on living in? Or do you want to live elsewhere, outside of Chicago?"
"I suppose Dauntless would be nice. And no, I'm in no urge to leave Chicago. I grew up here. Sure, maybe I don't have the best memories here, but I'd love to make new ones...here," I confess.
"I'd probably jump at any chance given to leave this place."
I immediately realize why. He wants to leave his father.
"Yeah. I understand completely."
I move to stand beside him and after a moment of hesitation, I decide to place my head on his shoulder. He doesn't seem to mind, really. In fact, it seems like he enjoys it. After the positive reaction, I also wrap my hands around his arm. He moves his head to kiss the top of mine, and then he rests his on top mine.
"I'd hate to ruin the moment but I just think you should know...if you keep up how you've been doing in the Dauntless compound at school, I'm sure you'll be able to make it into the real Dauntless compound. Have you ever wondered where the Dauntless are?"
I know that last part is completely off-topic, but I'm curious. And in all the time I've known him, he's been the seriously mysterious-type. He's finally opening up and I'm finally caring. Can you blame my curiosity?
"Believe it or not, I actually know where the real Dauntless compound is. It's amazing. If you'd like, I could show you sometime," he promises me.
I'm taken aback, so much that I remove my head from his embrace and just stare at him, shocked. "Really?" I whisper, unable to hide the shock from seeping into my voice and the smile from leaving my face.
He nods his head, smiling brightly right back at me. "Yeah," he whispers to me.
We're both standing there, looking into each other's eyes, smiling like ninnies. His eyes move down to my lips, and my smile disappears. My breath hitches in my throat, and my eyes travel lower, toward his lips.
He starts leaning in closer, and at the last moment, I decide to also lean in a little. Our noses slide against each other, and right before our lips touch, he licks his lips...and we hear a knock on the door.
I break away with a sudden jolt of movement, and we stand there awkwardly.
"Um," I stutter, pointing toward the door, "I'm gonna get the door."
His only response is the hand signal where you put your middle and index finger together, with your thumb leaning slightly towards them. Most of the time it's to dismiss something...sorta. I wish I knew what the signal was called.
I open the door and am utterly astonished at what I see. It's Nita...with her hand at the top of the doorframe, her arm taking up the whole doorframe opposite the one where the door's hinges are attached. Another thing that I really don't want to mention because it produces a bile taste in my mouth but I probably should, she's wearing lingerie. Why the hell is she wearing lingerie at my door?
I stumble for my words. "I don't even know where to start with this," I reply neutrally. I gesture toward her...body—that is showing way too much skin for my liking. Not that I ever really enjoy her company. "But all I can say about this," I gesture toward her...body...again, "is that it's absolutely disgusting...and unwelcome."
I attempt to close the door but she doesn't let me. "Well, you might not like an actual work of art—or a curvy, sexy body—but Four over there, obviously does," she says, smirking at me.
I'm taken aback for a moment. "What-what do you mean?" My voice wavers.
Four runs towards us and cuts in. "Nothing," he says, standing between Nita and me, his back to her.
"Aw, Four. It's sweet you want to spare her feelings, but she deserves to know the truth," she purrs. She presses her body against his back, and starts stroking his head. He flinches away from her, towards me. I step back from him.
"And what exactly is the truth?" I ask emotionless.
"Nothing, she just—"
Nita cuts Four off, "he's been seeing me. So you might want to back off, you slut."
I narrow my eyes at her. "Are you aware of how much of a hypocrite you sound like?" She shrugs. "Anyway, why are you even at my door? Why not his? You're with him, after all," I question.
Four tries to protest but I raise a hand to cut him off.
"Well, you see, I went to his door but Zeke told me he wasn't there." She turns to Four. "By the way, you might want to get a new best friend, he was totally checking me out, trying to do things with me," she pouts. I can't help the eye-roll I perform. She turns back to me. "Anyway, Zeke told me he'd be here—"
"That's a lie," Four outrages. "Zeke knew exactly what I was doing, and he'd never betray me like that."
"Whatever," Nita says, rolling her eyes. "I figured he'd be here, with the boyfriend-stealing-slut—"
"Again, hypocrisy," I tell her. "And I'm not you. Stop acting like I am."
"Will you people stop cutting me off? Gosh," she pouts like a five-year-old. It's really annoying. "Back to what I was saying, I figured he'd be here and so I decided to come here. And here I am...taking my guy back," she tells us, pulling him by the collar of his shirt.
"I'm not your guy," he deadpans. He also resists her urging...and pulling. "Listen, Tris—"
"Save it. Why don't you guys just go back to your hotel room and fuck your eyeballs out all night? It's not like I matter," I cut him off.
He opens his mouth to protest again but Nita tugs on his shirt. He's about to resist again, but notices the stubborn look on my face, and gives in. It also probably is because I make a move to close the door on them.
Assholes.
+++
I make my way to the lobby where the party is being hosted. I weave through the crowd, searching for my friends. Finally, I spot Uriah with his back to me. I tap him on the shoulder and he turns around.
"Hey," I tell him.
"Hey," he replies, opening his arms for me, obviously offering a hug. I hug him and take a seat next to my other friends on the couch.
"What are you doing here? I thought you said you weren't coming," Christina asks—though more like "interrogates"—me.
"Yeah. I was trying to go to sleep, but I just couldn't. Therefore, I decided I'd come join you all," I answer her. I look at all of them. "Is that a problem?"
Will steps in, removing his arm from Christina's shoulder. "What would be a problem and why?"
"My coming here. I wouldn't have wanted to intrude on anything," I tell them all honestly.
Will is about to reply, but Uriah cuts him off. "Of course there's no problem with you coming here. Why would there be? After all, you're the real reason we won."
I can't help but feel a little upset over his last statement. I know he meant it with good intentions, and probably doesn't think anything of it, but that obviously won't stop the uncomfortable feeling washing over me. He's right, though. I am the real reason. But, does it really matter? In the end, Christina grabbed the flag. The glory went to her. So really, it doesn't matter that I came up with the mastermind plan, it only matters that she got the flag. But it can't be undone, and even if we were given the chance to change it, I don't think it'd be any different. Christina was determined to rip off other people's hard work and steal the glory for herself. I just have to look on the bright side. I guess in the long run, Four was right. Mental preparedness is a vital part of Dauntless training, which we are all doing. It's a vital part of any training, though. Not just Dauntless. I have the mental preparedness, and I may not have the best physical preparedness, but I do have some and that will suffice. Christina only expressed that she has the physical element down when she snatched the flag and the glory.
"Yeah, he's right, Tris. You're a huge reason for this party. And now that you're here, it's better. Why would we not want you here, though?" Will adds to what Uri said.
How you ever thought how it was funny that a thought processes so quickly and you understand everything the millisecond it is processed? And how when you have a complex thought it seems like it takes longer to process? How if you were in the middle of a conversation, by the time your thought is finished processing, you suppose the time limit for replying to the last thing someone said is over, yet when you get snapped back into reality, you realize the amount of time isn't really as inappropriate as you supposed?
It takes me a moment to reply. "I don't know. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't intruding on anything. And thank you. That's very sweet of you both." They nod their heads at me.
"I forgot to congratulate you guys on winning. I was so busy complaining about being on the other team that I didn't..." Al trails off, look in the opposite direction.
"It's alright—," I start.
Christina cuts me off, "but thanks. That's very nice of you. I'm sorry we couldn't be on the same team, though."
I can't help but want to smack her a little. Not because she so rudely cut me off, but because the way she speaks. It's the way she says "we", almost as if she means only the both of them. Like she was the "real deal" of our team; as if she was trying to insinuate that if we had her, we'd be fine.
"I wish we were on the same team, too," he replies tentatively. "By the way, Tris, can I talk to you?"
I glare daggers at him. Everybody may think I'm over what happened between him and me, but they don't really know the extent of him. He sends me a pleading look, but so far, I'm not really interested in budging.
Christina, of course, comes to the rescue...just like she has these past few moments.
"Trissy, go on. You need to get out more. Especially with guys," she says—for everyone to hear, might I add—, and wiggles her eyebrows. Everyone who's attention she's attracted, laughs.
I hear footsteps heading toward me, but I decide to leave with Al before this gets either to suspicious because I won't or before it gets too embarrassing because everyone was staring at me to. He realizes I've made the decision to go with him and starts leading me out...with an unsettling smile. We make it out of the hotel, standing directly in front of the doors leading to the entrance.
"So," I kick at the pavement beneath my feet, "what did you want to talk about?"
He lifts my chin up from looking at the pavement, and I bat his hand away.
"Before I offer you a deal of strictly friendship, I just wanted to know: do I have any chance with you?" he asks.
I pretend to check within every part of my body. I don't know why I do this, maybe it's to make it easier for him. After I'm done pretend-checking, I answer him, "I'm afraid most likely not."
He looks hopeful all of a sudden. Shit, what did I say? "You said 'most likely'. So, I have a chance, I'm hearing."
"O—" I stop, putting my hand to stop him but also stopping what I was saying. After rethinking my words, I realize they're alright to use. "Oh Al. I only said 'most likely' because, well, I don't know what'll happen in the future. Maybe I'll develop feelings for you in the future, I don't know. But I wouldn't get hopeful...not one bit," I put my index finger and thumb close together to imitate the "bit" part, "because it's most likely not happening. I can check every part of my body and none of it thinks of you like that. The only positive feelings I have toward you are friendly...absolutely, strictly platonic."
Al places his hands in his pockets. "Like you said, 'I don't know what'll happen in the future.' You're right. We don't know. So, I'm not giving up on you." He takes his hands out of his pockets and reaches for me.
"No," I say, backing away from him. "Don't touch me."
He smirks at me. It gives me an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach.
"Al, please stop. I'm not falling for you. I probably never will. Just give up," I tell him, exasperated.
He looks away from me. "Fine," he snaps, looking back at me. "We'll be friends." Is it just me or does his smile keep getting creepier?
"Yeah, you could also bother to ask me if I'm fine being considered friends with you," I tell him casually, shrugging my shoulders. "And just for that, you'll have to earn your respect from me, back."
With that said, I walk back into the hotel. Not even bothering to check if he's following me or not.
When I walk in, Zeke grabs my arm and leads me to a vacant corner.
"What-Zeke what's going on?" I ask him once we're standing alone in the corner near the stairs.
"Why are you here?" he asks, releasing my arm.
"Excuse me?"
He rubs his face. "Aren't you supposed to be with Four? He's supposed to be visiting you in your room right now."
I'm taken aback. "How do you know that? Well, I mean, he visited me...but then something happened."
"I'm his best friend. Did you really think he wouldn't tell me? And anyway, what happened?" He starts looking apprehensive about something. What, I can't quite put my finger on...
"Nothing. It's done and it doesn't matter...not anymore," I say, whispering the last part. I look down at the floor, rubbing my arm, recalling the events of before.
"Hey, you okay?" Zeke snaps his fingers at me.
I break out of my trance. "Yeah, I'm fine," I say reassuringly, more to myself than him.
"What happened? Look, I assure you, if you just gave him a chance..." He blows out a breath. "You'd be really surprised. He's really not that manwhore you've always thought of him as...well, he's not anymore. He genuinely wants to be with you and—"
"Yeah, well, if that were true, you and I wouldn't be in this position right now." I laugh sarcastically.
"What'd he do?" he asks tentatively.
I look down at my feet again. "It doesn't matter, Zeke."
"But, Tris—"
I look back at him. "—No, no, no. Drop it."
He puts his hands up, exasperated. "Fine." He rubs his face again. "Let's forget this ever happened, okay? But first, I need to know what happened," he insists, look directly at me.
I'm about to protest, but I realize he's not going to drop it until I tell him. With a sigh, I admit, "Nita."
He looks confused for a moment but then realization dawns upon him. "What do you think of him?"
I'm thoroughly surprised at his question. It seems to have nothing to do with what he just asked before that. Still, I answer it.
"I don't know, Zeke. I feel like...like, every time I actually consider giving him a chance...he does something to blow it. Or I come to my senses and realize it's a recipe for disaster," I spill, shaking my head at the ground.
"Thank you." He gives me a hug. "Hey, we still on for tonight?" he asks, pulling back a little.
I release him completely. "With Christina, try and stop me," I say in a fake enthusiastic voice.
"Great." With that said, he walks away.
Huh. Weird. But then again, he's a Pedrad male so...
I walk back to where I was before. I take a seat on the couch with my friends. We're all talking and laughing when someone comes up to us.
"Hello, Tris...or do you prefer 'Stiff'?" he asks.
"Tris is fine, thank you," I reply to him sarcastically.
"Noted."
I let out a sigh. "What do you want, Eric?"
He takes a seat on the armrest of the couch, a little too close to Christina for Will's comfort, judging by the way he wraps his arm around her tighter.
"I'm just conversing with you, Tris," he replies neutrally. "Anything you'd like to converse?"
"No," I reply slowly, shaking my head.
"Nice to know. Well, I shall be going," he announces, slightly bowing his head.
I can't help but notice how, as he is leaving, the light hits him perfectly, making him appear even more menacing. The light reflects off his piercings, casting minuscule shadows beneath them. You can also see the hole the piercing left. In moments like this, I wish I wasn't so observant. Not that I think noticing all of that only happens because you're observant. I'm pretty sure anyone who just happened to look his way noticed how much more scary he looked. I hate that I was looking there at the time. He's just so despicable.
I shake my head to clear the thoughts. I shouldn't be judging him so quickly, but I can't help it. There's just something about his demeanor that gives off something hazardous. I better watch myself in front of him. He's going to be a troublemaker, and unlike Four, I know I'm not going to like it.
I tear my eyes away from the place where a section of me was scarred. "Hey, guys," I say, capturing their attention from the exact same spot I was looking at.
At least now I know I'm not the only one who is creeped out.
I continue, "I think I'm gonna call it quits. I should be heading back to the hotel room."
"Yeah," Christina says, getting up. "I think I'm going to leave also. Only so much energy to waste, right?"
They all agree, and we depart to go to our hotel rooms.
+++
"Well, that was an eventful night," Christina whispers to me after we've both finished getting ready for sleep and are in our beds currently, staring at the ceiling.
I hear her turn so she isn't facing the ceiling anymore, and drift off to sleep. I, however, take some time.
Finally, my eyelids start drooping and I know sleep is inevitable.
I turn to sleep on my side and as fatigue engulfs me, one thought processes coherently in my brain:
Eventful, indeed.