Okay, so I know I took forever to update, but this was intended to be an extremely long chapter...as in like maybe 15,000 words . (I did that period thing on purpose btw.) I had a certain place I wanted to reach by the end of this chapter, but today is my birthday and I thought why not just give this much out and then if I still want to make this extremely long, I can just edit it and stuff...so anyway, please don't get mad. You can't. IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! *makes puppy dog face*

But, I am truly, truly, truly, ever so so so sorry. I thought a lot of words would make up for it, but then it dawned upon me that that would be taking really long so now I think you guys deserve at least a little. It would've probably taken another month or so or a few weeks because I can never find the right time to really focus on the story so...

Again, I thought a really long chapter would make up for it but that would've taken wayyyyy too long so I'm not going to do that.
+++

Part 4:

"Trissy! Did you actually think I'd let you go to this party without a makeover from me?" Christina shouts at me.

I shrug. "Well, I was sorta hopin'."

"Come on. This is a huge deal. How could you not actually want to go?" She stares at me for a few seconds and then something hits her. She leans closer to me to whisper, "is this about Four?"

I groan. "Why does everybody keep pairing us up? And we leave in a few hours. We should be busy packing not getting ready for some Pedrad-palooza," I tell her, using hand gestures to exaggerate.

"Well, you should no better than to assume I wouldn't bring supplies with me. I bring them with me everywhere. And it's already 2:30 PM, and it takes about 3-4 hours to get back to school. Then, we'll all go home which will take about a half hour. And 'Pedrad-paloozas' are no joke. These things can take the whole entire 24 hours of a day and still be the most awesome experience ever...maybe tiring, too, but that's a part of growing up," she tells me pointedly.

I stare at her incredulously. "You did not just say that exhausting and depriving yourself of rest is a part of growing up," I exclaim, enunciating the "depriving yourself of rest" part.

She sighs. "You need to be more fun," she says, pouting. "As a best friend, it's your job to include yourself in the crazy shit we all know I'll get into."

I roll my eyes. "And besides, I'm pretty sure we'll still have time to get ready at home."

She takes out the hair curler and starts applying it to her hair. "No, we won't. And it'd be easier if we just did it now. By the time we arrive home it'll be..." she trails off, attempting to figuring out the time.

Finally, I decide she's taking too long and answer for her, "about 7 or 8."

"Yeah," she nods her head while pointing at me, "that."

"We'll look like freak-shows. Getting on a school bus, 'jazzed up like dolls'," I tell her. "I mean, it just seems inappropriate to ride on something so filthy and garbage-seeming and be glamoured to the rim. And everybody will be looking at us weird because, oh yeah, it's inappropriate."

"Nothing will seem off or inappropriate, I'm pretty sure lots of people will be doing that. It might be out-of-place for you and Lynn, but that's because you guys haven't gotten accustomed to it. Speaking of Lynn, I wouldn't be surprised if Marlene was able to talk her into it. So, if she was able to convince Lynn, do I really have an excuse as to why you aren't dolled up? Besides, Four will love it. Don't you want to do something for him?"

I choke a little—on nothing in particular but just because that's what happens when you're totally caught off guard. I recompose myself and take as much time as I need doing so. She doesn't need my answer right away if that's how she's being.

Gosh, I am not with Four.

"How many times do I need to say this: I am not with Four? When will you guys understand that? You guys are being totally—"

She cuts me off, "oblivious. You are being totally oblivious. Don't you remember when he came to your locker, about to ask you out? Like, on a date, Trissy?"

"Pftt. Oh, please, keep dreaming Christina."

"Too bad for you, I'm not. And how can you not remember? You were a total jerk to him," she absentmindedly says.

"I'm the jerk?" I ask incredulously. "He's the one who can't keep the same girl for one whole night. On our first day of high school, he was legitimately making out with Shauna on my lockers and she was sitting on his lap during math, and then he goes and has Molly during Music class, and then he makes out with Lauren—"

"And then he made out with you," she finishes for me. "But, hey, things aren't always what they seem." I notice she's now painting her nails hot pink. When did she finish curling her hair?

I shake my head at the stupid thought. Now's not the time to get distracted. "Yeah, but he—"

"He, what?!" She turns her full gaze to me and stops applying nail polish. The brush in her hand is hanging from her fingers, the bristols in mid-air. Her nails are cooped up to ensure they don't get paint on anything and that she can still hold the brush.

I take a seat on the closest surface and put my head in my hands. "Easier said than done. It's not that simple," I try telling her, but she won't have it.

"Look, I know you're new to this, but you need to understand that liking someone—"

"I don't like him!" I shout, rising up from my position. I place my hands on my forehead while pacing around the room. "I never said that. When did I ever say that? You guys keep saying I do but I'm insisting I don't. I know what I'm going through. Nobody else does. It's only me. And you can attempt all you want at trying to grasp the concept, but you'll never truly be able to unless you were me," I finish with a breath. I remove my hands and stop pacing.

She takes a seat next to me, looking up at me. "How about I try?"

"Christina," I mumble with my eyes closed, about to bring up my hand to silence her, but she decides to not listen.

"Let me guess, you're insecure, and you want to rip your hair out—well some feel more like crying, but that doesn't seem appropriate in your case," she says, eyeing me for a second, then continuing, "and you wonder why this is happening, and you try to deny it but...even the most minuscule part of you knows that you're lying, but you wish you weren't. You're constantly getting confused at the mixed signals, the red and white flags, the 'bipolar' behavior," she tells me, looking down at the floor, also finger-quoting "bipolar".

"You wish it could be simple, but you know it's not," she says, finally looking up at me from where her gaze was fixated on the floor.

"It's way more complex," I tell her, now having my eyes set upon somewhere else. I clear my throat. "But, I genuinely, truly, positively, absolutely, do not like him. Not one bit."

She puts her hands up in defense. "Fine, Tris. Maybe we all made a mistake. Maybe you don't like him."

"Thank you," I tell her, happy that she's realized I could care less about his Prussian blue eyes.

"Anyway, I'm done with me. Now, we are going to work on you," she says ecstatically, as if we weren't just having a serious conversation.

I groan, but that doesn't seem to deflate her.
+++

"Almost there. Just hold on a sec. Okay—"

"Ow!" I shriek, as my foot hits another substance. "Christina! Stop it. What's the point of torturing both of us to torture me even more, if to just torture me right after you tortured me the first time?"

She stops. "I'm pretty sure nobody could understand what you just said right now."

"Ugh. Just hurry up and tell me what it is we're doing," I groan. I absolutely hate this blindfold.

"Shut up!" she exclaims. "We're almost there. Stop being so damn impatient."

"Well, I'm bored," I whine. "And it doesn't help that you keep having my foot hit something every few seconds."

"Then, distract yourself."

"With what?"

She pauses before replying. "Never mind. We're here."

The blindfold comes off, and it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the light. Meanwhile, I squint and blink repeatedly because for some reason, people believe that helps relieve the eyes' tension and I'm one of those people.

No, I'm just kidding. It's just out of habit.

Anyway, after my eyes have adjusted to their sight, I notice I'm in the lobby. No wonder my foot kept hitting something... But still, that happens even when I don't have a blindfold on so...

How the hell did Christina manage to get me down two flights of stairs?

"Trissy, hello? Earth-to-Tris? Are you there? Wake up! Wake up!" Christina says, waving a hand in my face.

I snap back to reality and stumble backwards a few steps. "How the hell did you get me down two flights of stairs?" I demand, after regaining my stability—not that I ever really had any, seeing as how I've always been clumsy.

All she does is shrug in response.

I huff. "You're not going to give me any answer? Come on, Christina, I've heard them all from you," I tell her.

"Okay, is that seriously the only thing that goes through your mind when you're dolled up and in front of a full-length mirror?" she asks, exasperated by my behavior.

I turn my attention to the mirror that is directly in front of me. I must've been so occupied with my thoughts that I hadn't noticed it. And what I notice:

My hair is curled at the tips and one strand from each side of my head is twisted and comes together in the middle into a ponytail. There's blush on my cheeks, but that's natural and from seeing myself in the mirror. I notice the dress I'm wearing is Prussian blue...

My luck...

I look normal, I'd say. Thank goodness I don't have makeup, though. I'd pretty much die if I did...and I lean in closer to the mirror and notice something. My eyes are lined with...eyeliner. And I have some unnoticeable...lip-gloss. Or maybe it's lipstick. It's not like I know the difference.

"What do you think?" Christina asks, putting her head on my shoulder, looking up at me.

"You aren't going to be able to make me pretty, you know." I imagine standing before my family in these clothes, and my stomach twists like I might be sick.

"Who cares about pretty? I'm going for noticeable."

I stop looking in the mirror. I don't know why, I just can't bare to look at my reflection anymore. I address Christina, "But thanks. You really don't have to do this, you never do. But thanks for wasting time on me—"

"Is that seriously what you consider it? Tris, I enjoy doing this." She takes my hand and we sit down on the couch. "I know we have been going through some serious problems lately, but..." She shakes her head. "You're still my best friend. And all best friends have their fights. And I'll always be there."

I give her hand a squeeze. "Thanks," I reply.

"No problem," she tells me.

I purse my lips then chuckle. "Let's go. This is becoming too heartwarming for my cold soul," I joke.

She agrees and we make our way to the others.

"Hey, guys," I greet once we make it towards them.

"Woah," Will says, staring at Christina. He blushes, realizing what just came out of his mouth. "I mean, you look beautiful-well, you look more than beautiful but-no, not like that-or like that either-I mean, you're stunning and there are no buts to that-again, not like that," he stammers.

She goes up to him and pecks him on the cheek. "Thank you, William. And you look amazing as well," she tells him, effectively calming him down.

Uri scrunches his nose up. "Is it just me, or did the atmosphere change from completely casual to 'love is in the air'?"

Mar slaps his arm. "Hey, it's cute and romantic," she says, marveling at their little scene.

"And disgusting," I add in.

Uri extends his hand towards me, motioning for me to give him a high-five. I give him one and Lynn actually ends up cracking a smile at my statement.

We all just continue to talk for a few minutes until Lynn motions for me to look behind me.

My eyebrows furrow, silently asking her "What?"

"Just look behind you," she whispers, looking at the floor and trying to be discreet.

I glance behind me to find Four look away from something. He starts scratching behind his ear, which is starting to become red.

I glance back to Lynn. "What is it?" I whisper.

She looks directly into my eyes. "I'm going to tell you when to look. At that exact moment, you're going to look. For now, just start looking around Four, not too far but not too close. When I say, 'look', you're going to look directly at him. Got it?"

I nod my head, still confused.

I start looking around Four, anything I can find that's near him. Then, Lynn slaps me on the back, signaling me to look at him. I had a feeling she'd rather be violent than peaceful. I glance at him and catch him staring at me. He looks away, blushing, and then thinks better of it and looks back at me. I'm still staring at him, though, so now we're just gazing into each other's eyes, ignoring the rest of the world. It feels like such an intimate moment...and I don't know what to make of it.

This time, I'm the one to look away. I also make a point by getting out of this room—this room where most of the students are lounging around. I spot Tori standing in front of the exit/entrance to this hotel. My steps would produce a clicking-sound who's echo would emanate off the walls, but I'm not wearing heels. Instead, the footsteps continue treading silently, their path leading to Tori. They stop directly behind her, the back of her facing me.

But she must've known they'd lead me here.

"What question will you be asking me to avoid the others?" She finally glances at me, and I can't help but notice how tired she seems.

"I don't know," I tell her, switching my gaze to the view the transparent doors provide. In the corner of my eye, I see her raising her eyebrow at my statement. "Will 'When are we leaving?' do?" I ask, finally looking at her.

She nods her head a few times. "Yeah, that'll do," she tells me.

I nod my head at that.

"It's soon," she says, looking at her watch. Then, she retracts her hand and opens the door, stepping outside. I just stand where I am, shaking my head.

I don't know anymore.
+++

"Everybody on the bus," Tori says, clapping her hands together. She seems to be in a better mood than our discussion earlier.

I follow my friends onto the bus we came on and it seems as if everybody sits exactly where they were sitting before.

I look outside the window behind me and spot Four talking with the receptionist. She seems nice.

I try to read their lips to see what they're saying but come up with no success. She does tell him something, though, something that makes him blush. He recovers a few seconds after and nods his head in a "will do" manner. She becomes serious and he ends up chuckling. A punch is then delivered to his arm which only causes his laughter to rise. He notices how serious her expression is and straightens up, seeming to apologize. Tori decides then to make her way towards them. She places her hand on Four's shoulder, seeming to usher him into the bus. He complies and she stays to chat with the receptionist. They continue talking, with Tori making a lot of hand gestures and the receptionist nodding her head.

After a while, Tori and her seem to be getting deep into conversation and she looks up and points at me. I turn my head abruptly to the side, afraid I've been caught. I chance a look back down at them and see them both smiling up at me. The receptionist even waves at me.

"Been caught, huh? Why don't you follow me?" a husky voice says right next to my ear.

I turn my head to the side, his cheek right in front of my train of sight. "Why the hell should I follow you?" I ask...not so politely.

"Please? I don't expect you to warm up to me that easy, but please? Just this one time?" he pleads.

I huff and contemplate whether I should or not. After all, he said just this one time. But then again, he's a liar. An absolute liar. And he doesn't deserve me complying so easily.

Suddenly, I feel my arm being pulled. I look to see who it is: Four. Why am I not surprised?

He pulls me off of my seat and starts dragging me out of the bus. His grip ends up getting tighter and tighter but I don't think he realizes it.

I smack his arm. "Ow. Stop. You're hurting me," I tell him, annoyed.

He immediately lets go. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt—"

"Yeah, yeah. It's alright. Just tell me why you dragged me out of the bus. I know it wasn't because you were trying to harm me," I reassure—not because I'm incredibly fond of him right now, it's because I know about his father, and I know he barely harmed me, and he wouldn't do that to any female on purpose—, crossing my arms.

"Again, sorry about—"

"Stop apologizing. Just tell me why I'm here," I demand.

He looks down at the floor, then back up at me. He glances towards the receptionist and then motions me towards her.

I slowly tread towards the receptionist.

"Hi, my name's Jessica," she says, extending her hand in greeting.

I shake her hand while saying, "my name is Beatrice, but I prefer Tris."

"Ah. I know who you are," she tells me, still smiling.

"How do you—"

"That's not important," Four cuts in.

I glare at him, silently interrogating him as to why he's still here. He catches my glare and decides to go back on the bus.

"As I was saying, how do you know me?"

"Well, let's just say I know—and am incredibly fond of—the students at this school. Which means I'm pretty up-to-date on what goes on."

I nod my head at her discreet response.

"Okay, it's time to board the bus," Tori says, ushering me onto it.

"Of course." I address Jessica. "It was nice meeting you, and hopefully, I'll get to see you another time," I tell her.

"Yeah, definitely. You, too," she replies.

During our whole entire conversation, her smile has never faded...up until now.

I board the bus and sit where I was just sitting. My friends wrap me up into their conversation as if I had never left, and I await the 3-4 hour-long journey.
+++

Finally, I decide to head to the bathroom. I'm definitely not a fan of public restrooms—no one is—but hey, I need to use it badly. I make my way towards it and see it's occupied. I wait, crossing my arms. For some reason, though, Four assumes this is the best time to appear.

"Hey," he says to me.

I ignore him. All I care about is using the restroom.

"Don't tell me your giving me the silent treatment," he tells me sternly.

I really don't want to talk to him.

"Please talk to me," he begs.

He comes to stand in front of me, and I'd move but I don't want him to think I'm actually acknowledging him. Instead, I just stare at him, as if he isn't there and I'm looking at the rest of the bus. I've found that hurts more.

"Hey." He tries grabbing one of my arms and I punch him. He slowly brings his hand back and looks pissed. "Fine, don't talk," he mumbles. "Don't know why I bother even trying."

I roll my eyes. Apparently, claiming to want to be with someone—might I add, about to kiss them—and then having sex with someone else is "trying". Pft, Four.

Then, something I absolutely dread happens. The bus hits a patch in the road and the whole bus gets jostled. Out of instinct, I latch onto the first thing I can grab...which just so happens to be Four's shirt. And to make matters even worse, he also has the same instinct, but the first thing he latched onto ended up being my waist. So, now, my fingers are clutching his shirt and his arms are encircled around my waist. And the sudden movement we provided drew the others' eyes to us. Yay...

I immediately let go. It takes Four a few seconds to do the same but he still ends up doing it a little after me. Everybody is now staring at us, some with amused faces, and some with astonished.

Peter is the first to break the silence.

"Yeah, bro. Get it!" he yells. Then he continues normally, "don't know why you'd want that, but a little generosity never killed anybody."

I don't need to use the bathroom anymore.

"You're right, Peter. Next time, try it," Four replies coolly.

Peter gets up from his seat. "Oh, come on. You can't possibly be standing up for the Stiff? Your twelve-year-old little brother, isn't it?" He asks, eyeing me.

"Why can't you guys ever be reasonable?" I state, turning everybody's gazes from Four and Peter, to me. "For goodness sake, you guys can be such big drama-queens. And then you blame it on a female as if she started the dispute. You," I point my finger at Peter, "need to butt-out. If it doesn't concern you, why the fuck do you make a huge fuss over it and act as if you're right and did a heroic thing? And you," I blow out a sigh, stabbing his chest with my index finger, "need to learn how to not react. You're not a coward, you can stand up for things, but you never know when or when not is the right time to." With that said, I huff and make my way over to my friends to sit in my seat.

Four and Peter stare at each other for a while longer and then sit back down in their seats, too.

I have a feeling their alliance has been broken, and instead it's now a newfound hatred.
+++

"Hello party-people," Uri slurs.

How the fuck has he already managed to get drunk? We just got off the bus.

"Hey," Mar says, pecking him on the cheek.

Uriah then notices Lynn. "Woah, Lynn. You look different. Good for you. Did Mar dress you up?"

Lynn doesn't say anything, but the crimson blush that tinges her cheeks say it all.

Will and Al appear behind Christina, shaking hands and Will congratulating him.

"What's going on?" I ask with a light chuckle, approaching them.

They notice me and immediately stop, almost as if they're hiding something.

"Nothing. It's nothing," Will says quickly.

I turn to Christina who's behind me. "Hm. Chris, didn't that sound suspicious to you too?"

She turns to us. "Why, yes, indeed, William. Care to explain?"

We both exchange a look, trying not to laugh in front of the boys. It's fun to mess around with them every once in a while.

Will leans forward and whispers something in Christina's ear that makes her blush. She then scurries off somewhere else. I look toward the boys and see them smirking at me.

"Did you really think we were that stupid, Beatrice?" Al asks, his arm slung around Will. Will also has his arm slung around Al.

"Yes, yes I did," I reply truthfully. And seriously, where the hell did "Beatrice" come from?

They both roll their eyes.

"Well, we're not. Or else we would've fallen for your sneaky, manipulative shenanigans," Will tells me.

"Haha," I sarcastically chuckle. I then make sure they see my eye roll before I slip off somewhere else.

We decided instead of doing the prank after the party, we'd do it after an hour of being here. Al was extremely excited for some reason. Maybe it was because we basically left him out these past couple weeks...

Uriah and I agreed on doing an extra prank for Four. We plan on filling his house with cups of honey and several types of alcoholic beverages. In addition to that, I figured we could accessorize his house with a bunch of hidden traps. Uriah suggested we also involve his dad, but I wouldn't have it. I suggested the extra traps, though, because knowing Four, he wouldn't mind drinking all of the alcohol himself.

But for now, we're all just going to try and enjoy ourselves as much as we can.

I make my way into the kitchen and immediately blush at the sight before me. They're doing body-shots. I exit and decide to go upstairs. As I ascend the stairs, I can't help but let my eyes wander. There are so many people, all having fun and going crazy. Their best friends must have not dragged them here, I can't help but think bitterly.

Once I make it to the top of the stairs, I show no intention of moving and just stare. I stare at the scene before my eyes. These Pedrad parties are seriously something. I start exploring—knocking on rooms' doors to ensure I don't walk in on people doing things, going through every single empty room, admiring the place. Finally, I come to a halt when I notice a balcony in one of the rooms. I enter the balcony and immediately the scent of alcohol leaves my nostrils. It's so nice to be outside, rather than cooped up in small spaces in between people doing intimate things.

I lean on the railing that prevents people from falling to their deaths. Huh. That's an optimistic way of putting it. Anyway, I notice how beautiful the night sky is. The stars twinkling with the moonlight accentuating them, the Hub standing taller than any other infrastructure with streetlights forming rows leading to it, the busy streets filled with people walking by. It is truly a magnificent sight.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" And it seems as if the voice agrees with me.

I'm about to ignore him again when I notice the bottle in his hand. He's drunk.

"Yeah, I guess so," I tell him, remembering the plan.

He almost chokes on the contents, and I feel my heart skip a beat. "Either I had way too many drinks, or you're not giving me the silent treatment anymore."

I scoff. "Well, you definitely did have too many drinks, but yes, I'm talking to you. That doesn't mean you should expect it to happen again, though. I'm only speaking because you're drunk."

He frowns and then pouts. "That's not appealing. I rather you talk to me all the time but this one than have it vice-versa."

"Well, too bad," I whisper. "I'm not the one who told you to have sex with Nita, and even if I did, you could've easily ignored me. Likewise, I ignore you," I plainly state.

"You don't even know the full story," he starts.

"Everything isn't what it seems," I exclaim angrily. "Yada yada yada. That's serious bull."

"Didn't know you had a tattoo," he says, looking at my collarbone.

I'm about to start on how that has absolutely nothing to do with what I just said, but then the bottle makes its way back into my peripheral vision.

He notices my staring at the bottle and brings it closer to me. "Want some?" he offers.

I turn my gaze back to the scenery. "Yeah, so you could get me drunk and take advantage of me. No, thanks," I bitterly reply. I make sure the first part clearly comes out as a statement rather than a question. It's not a question.

"I would never take advantage of you," he whispers sluggishly in my ear.

I turn back to him. "Huh. You know, I'm finding that really hard to believe," I sorely exclaim.

"Well, you shouldn't."

He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a huge chug. I feel terrible for whoever will be dealing with him tonight. I glance at his friends and surprisingly, they all seem even more drunk than he is.

"Did I intrude?" I ask him, jutting my chin in the direction of his friends.

His gaze shifts to them for a second and then it is back on me. "Them?" A swig of his bottle. "Of course not. They hardly realize I'm gone. Don't worry about it."

My watch beeps and I realize it's been an hour. Time goes by fast...

"I should be going," I tell him. "Do me a favor and stay away from the railings, okay?"

"Of course." He puts his lips next to my ear, his hands resting on my hips, and says, "You look good, Tris."

His words surprise me, and my heart leaps. I wish it didn't, because judging by the way his foul breath smells and the fact that Nita showed up at his room in alluring clothing—if you could even call underwear/lingerie clothing—you can tell he really couldn't give two rats' asses about me.

He walks backwards toward his friends, his eyes never leaving mine. Before he finally turns to them, he gives me a wink. Then, he continues as he was doing before me.

I exit the balcony and walk downstairs in search of my friends. I end up bumping into somebody during my search and fall to the floor.

"Oh, hey, Tris. We've been looking all over for you," Uri exclaims enthusiastically, giving me a hand.

"Yeah, but instead of looking, you were bumping," I roughly state.

He contemplates that for a moment and then starts having a small chuckle. "No offense, Trissy-poo. That doesn't exactly convey the message you were hoping to."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. I sorta realized that the second it came out," I tell him with a small smile on my face.

Everybody has a laugh at this.

"So, shall we get going?" Will asks, gesturing toward the door.

Christina puts her finger up. "Only if Tris is still so keen on it," she says, looking at everybody but me.

I roll my eyes. "Of course I am. Now, you all need to stop that."

"Stop what?" Marlene asks, feigning innocence. She lifts her shoulders along with her hands to portray the "But who?" act.

"She's right. Why associate her with the jerk? I don't think she's good enough for Four. So, we should stop claiming there's something between the two when there clearly isn't," Al exclaims in an outburst of emotions. He then mutters so low only I can hear, "Or at least, there better not be."

I feel a shiver run down my spine. I know he didn't mean for anyone to hear that, and he seems to be slowly getting back to his own self, but I can't help but move a few inches away from him.

"Hey," a voice whispers in my ear.

"Hey," I whisper back to him, smiling in anticipation of what we're about to do.

He looks around. "So, did you follow the plan?"

I look down at the floor, remembering I forgot to do the most important part. "Oh, shit. Uriah, I forgot. I totally forgot. Ugh, how could I have been so stupid?" I ask him, groaning here and there.

"It's alright. I'll stall, but you need to hurry up and complete the task," he tells me. He points his thumb behind him. "Go, quick."

I nod my head, intent on achieving my goal. I dash upstairs and whenever somebody stops to stare at me, I make sure to stumble a little, as to not seem too different. I head to the terrace and see that Four isn't here. Where could he be?

After exiting there, I decide to just go everywhere to ensure I don't miss him. At some point, though, I don't need to pretend to stumble anymore because it's starting to get really hard to navigate through these spaces. I'm not drunk, people just don't seem to understand personal space. About a while later, I'm sure Uri is running out of ideas and I know it is crucial I find Four soon. I decide to try the ultimate, last resort.

"Fo—" I'm cut off by someone shoving me into a wall. "What the hell?" I state as soon as I'm stable.

"Sorry, peaches," someone huffs. I can feel the alcohol from their breath resting on my ear. It makes me sick.

"It's totally fine." No, it's not. "But," I attempt to move past him, "I think I'll be going now."

He puts his arm out to stop me. "I don't think so. Come on, Carol. Stop being a pansycake."

Wait, did he just say "Carol"? I burst out laughing after processing that. No wonder he wanted to do things with me.

He looks at me quizzically, wondering why I'm laughing so hard.

"Look, I'm sorry, I'm not Carol or whoever the hell you were talking about." His mouth goes in the form of an "o". "You are obviously really drunk, though, so do you need any help with anything?" I ask him.

"No, it's alright. But, thanks. For telling me," he says. He slurs, "It'd be nice to know where Carol went."

"What's her last name?" He seems nice and as if he really cares about this "Carol" so I want to make sure he doesn't do anything he'll regret later.

"Carol Lee," he slurs again, but it comes out as if it's "Carolee", which is actually not that bad of a name. Or maybe that's how it always sounds with her name. Poor thing. (Assuming she's a girl I'm using the pronouns "she" and "her")

I take out my phone and text Uri.

Tris: Look, I'm sorry I haven't returned yet, but do you know a Carol Lee?

Uriah: ya y? oh and i forgot 2 text u 2 take ur time bcuz were all pretty distracted...all except Al ; )

Tris: Ew. I didn't need to know that.

Uriah: at least u didnt mention my horrible grammar

Tris: Don't feel like this is the right time. Anyway, tell her to go upstairs, first room on the right.

Uriah: sure thang.

Tris: That is improper on so many levels, I won't even begin.

Uriah: no way i dont know how i'll be able 2 survive without ur rants

I roll my eyes and put my phone away. Damn him and his stupid sarcasm. I lead the guy—who's name I don't even know—into the place I told Carol to go to. I wait for a few seconds till I hear a knock on the door.

"Hello. Who are you?" I ask once I get to the door, making sure I don't let anyone take advantage of the poor, defense-less male in the room.

Yes, males can be just as defense-less as a female can, and need just as much support, protection, and love as a female. They're equals and always will be.

The girl glances around nervously. "Um. I'm Carol, Carol Lee. Uriah told me to come here. He said I'd be meeting with someone named..." she stop and eyes me. Instead of continuing, she suspiciously asks me, "What's your name?"

I laugh. We're both playing the same game.

"My name is Tris, and obviously my goofball friend Uri sent you to me," I tell her, extending my hand in greeting.

"Oh, is that...um...Uriah's nickname?" she asks, fumbling for his name.

I laugh. "Yeah, I call him that. Anyway, you obviously are Carol, so I'll just step aside and let you two be alone. And you might want to keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't do this often."

"Oh, he doesn't do this often," she assures me. "He must've just wanted to have fun for once. It's totally understandable. Oh, and how's your relationship going?"

"What 'relationship'?" I ask her, completely bewildered.

"Oh...uh, never mind," she attempts to lie, but I said attempts.

"You're extremely terrible at lying. So just spill."

"No, thank you. Anyway, I'll be heading inside now," she says, quickly making a dash for the room.

Too quick. I couldn't catch her in time.

Ugh.

"Tris," Four slurs in my ear.

I turn around so fast I almost stumble...and I would've, if not for his arms that caught me.

Stupid him.

Twice in a day?!

Ugh.

But I still can't help the sigh that escapes my mouth. He's here. I can get what I need.

"Hey, Four," I reply, a little too sweetly.

The corners of his mouth turn upwards into a smile for me.
+++

"Yo, Tris. I see you got what you need. May I ask how?" Uriah smirks at me.

"Not important, now is it?" I snidely ask, jingling the keys in my hand.

Uriah rolls his eyes at me and motions for me to hop into the passenger seat.

Sorta like Caleb, Uriah knows how to drive. Unlike Caleb, he isn't legally allowed to, as in he doesn't have his license yet. That didn't stop Zeke from teaching him, though, and surprisingly, Uriah is a pretty good driver. You'd expect the Pedrads to be bad drivers, they're not.

Life is weird.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Uriah asks, briefly glancing in my direction before returning his eyes to the road.

"Nah. How about you boost it up another penny, though, and I'll consider it?" I joke.

"Fine." He reaches into his wallet and takes out two pennies. "Here," he says, handing them to me.

"Oh, wow. Uri, I don't know what to say..." I pretend to trail off. I snap back to reality in a second. "...other than: I WAS JUST KIDDING, PEDRAD!" I give him a pointed look. "You've got to fucking be kidding me," I groan.

"Hey, I thought you'd be happier to know you're receiving money for free," he tells me, both astonished and amused.

I contemplate the best approach to this situation. "Uri, this is sweet, but you know I can't accept money from you."

"Relax, it's just two cents."

"Still," I push, refusing to accept any money from anyone.

"Just take it, it's two cents. Don't be so dramatic...and morally correct," he tells me, huffing.

I put my hands up in defense. There's nothing wrong with being morally correct.
+++

I take his hand and let him help me out of the jeep. Well, more like he hauls me out and off of the jeep, not bothering to consider what he knows my response will be. Over time, he's made this into our signature joke. According to him, it's a "symbolization of how my shortness affects me in ways that makes me need his help". And in many ways, that doesn't really make much sense.

Stupid high cars.

"So, what'd you have them do? Or did you send them on a wild goose chase?" he asks me, flashing a row of his white teeth.

"I told them to do something to his ride. Not a big deal."

"You what?" he exclaims.

"His ride to the party. Their prank will be targeting it," I tell him slowly and unsurely.

He rushes toward me. "How could you do that? Have you seen his methods of transportation?! They're perfect..." he trails off, looking somewhere in the distance, probably reminiscing in the beauty of his vehicles.

"So what? That's nothing," I mumble, staring at the floor.

"I still don't know what happened between you two," he tells me, now standing directly in front of me.

I shake my head. "Uri, we're great friends. But some things, I don't tell," I say, walking towards the front door of Four's house.