A/N- I do not own the Divergent characters, Veronica Roth does.

August 15th

I'm currently on my way to work, listening to my music, allowing the morning sun to beat down heavily on me. Personally, I think it's far too early to be walking anywhere, but since there isn't any other way for me to get around I have no other choice. I have to practically force my legs to move, which is proving to be painful. They feel numb with sleep, and the warm weather makes my forehead damp. If I closed my eyes right now, I could probably fall asleep standing up. I walk past Four's house, and can't shake the temptation to look up and see if his car's in the driveway. It never is. It's half 7 in the morning, I can't imagine that he really starts work that early, but who knows. About 15 minutes later, I finally arrive at the bakery, almost breaking a sweat after that walk. The door is unlocked, so Becky must already be here. I go behind the counter and take my jacket off, replacing it with an apron. I shove my bag underneath the till and place my hair in a pony tail, threading it through the back of my cap. We open in 10 minutes, so I have enough time to bring the cakes and sweets out of the fridge and place them into the display counter. I walk into the back, with the fridge in mind as my destination, and somehow my ass meets the floor. I slipped. My legs flung in the air, and I crashed onto the tile flooring. To say it hurt would be an understatement, I swear I think I've bruised my tailbone or something, the pain is sharp and blinding. "Crap," I mutter under my breath, my eyes squeezed shut.

"I'm so sorry, I should have put the wet floor sign up or something," a deep voice says. I open my eyes to see a tall boy with shaggy blonde hair crouching in front of me, helping me off the floor.

"Yeah, well, that would have probably been a good idea," I remark.

"I'm so sorry, are you hurt?"

"I'll be fine, it was just a slip. Who are you?" I look at the boy who has bright green eyes and fair skin, he has a large toothy grin and looks quite lanky.

"My name's Kyle, I'm not supposed to be working today but Becky wanted me to come in to polish the floors," he says.

"Oh so you're Kyle," I knew that someone else called Kyle worked here on the days that I didn't, but I never met him before. "I'm Tris," I hold out my hand and he shakes it awkwardly. We stand there for a second before I slowly nod my head and laugh a little, why is he staring at me? Weirdo. I walk around him slowly, trying not to slip on the wet floor, and open the fridge to get the cakes out for today.

"Oh here," he walks over to the fridge and starts to pull out the crates of food, "let me carry those for you, seeing as though you slipped."

"I'm alright, I can handle it on my own," I push his hand away and continue to lift up the crate of cakes.

"Aren't going to let me be a gentleman?" He smirks.

"Aww," I say sarcastically, "who ever said chivalry is dead?" I roll my eyes at his comment. "You know, the more effective way to make a girl feel special is to treat her like she's capable of carrying her own weight around," I walk back into the front of the bakery and begin to set out the cakes in the display cabinet, with Kyle following closely behind

"Yeah, um, sorry," he shoves his hands in his pockets and watches me arrange the sweets.

"So, you just gonna stand there or get back to work?" I smirk at his shyness, and for what feels like the first time in my life, I seem to have the upper hand here.

"I should, yeah, probably get back to polishing the floors," he walks back into the kitchen and I hear the electric buffer machine switch on. Once I have all the cakes set up, I flip the shop sign to 'open' and brace myself for today's customers. Today wasn't too busy, I actually enjoy my time here, once I get over the initial nerves of having responsibility. Kyle left a couple of hours later, and now that it's hit 4'oclock, I too am finally leaving. My back kills from being stood up all day, and I dread the walk home. When I've hung up my apron and taken my cap off, I head outside into the warm summer air. I'll admit, I'm kind of getting used to the independence and new-found maturity I feel from having my own job, even though I don't get payed much. For once in my life, I feel like I'm finally going somewhere. In fact, before I return home, I decide to stop by the small art shop since I got payed today. When I walk in, I'm met with the strong smell of paints, and revel in the assortments of different colours and textures of the paper sheets. There's every style of paint brush that you could imagine, some soft and some stiff. There are sets and trays of water colours, from the cheapest chalky blocks to the expensive waxy bricks. I run my hands along the smooth, cool tubes of paints, and make my way over to the pastels. There are oil pastels and chalk pastels, personally, I like using either, but I think today i'm going to go with the chalk pastels since they're cheaper and easier to seal off and put into my scrapbooks. I pick out a decent sized set that has all the basic colours and more, and head over to the paper section. There are metallic, glittery, shiny, thick, thin, transparent and bumpy sheets of paper, and I feel giddy just looking at it all. It's 50 cents a sheet, so I pick out a few different colours and textures that I've never used before, and also treat myself to a new, sharp pair of scissors. It also has removable blades to that you can change the pattern that the scissors cut in. Fancy. I make my way over to the cashier who bags up all my items and requests my payment. I walk out of the shop with two bags in hand, but it's kind of difficult since one of the bags is huge and contains the paper which I desperately want to avoid creasing. I begin my trek home, walking at a slower pace to avoid crumpling my new buys.

When I arrive home, I'm surprised to see Lynn sat on my front step, smoking a cigarette. I rush up to her and grab the cig out of her mouth, dubbing it on the brick wall and chucking it into the road.

"Hey!" She yells, her brows furrowed and hands held mid-air out of frustration.

"Would you quit that? My mom could be home at any minute and she'll kill me if she sees you smoking here," I say.

"Why would she kill you for something that I do?"

"Because she'll just presume that I smoke too!"

"Fine," she huffs, "I've been waiting out here for hours! Where the hell have you been?"

"At work," I say while unlocking the door, "where do you think?"

"Oh sorry Mrs 'I have a busy life'."

"Well maybe I don't want to sit on my ass like you all day," I taunt while I set my bags down in the kitchen, "at least I have some direction."

"I have direction," she mutters, "oh cool! Art stuff," she pulls out the bag of pastels and papers.

"Not exactly, just scrapbooking."

"Still the same thing," she smiles, "so are you coming out tonight?"

"With who?" I start to boil some water so I can make pasta. I'm starving, and it's about the only dinner that I know how to make.

"Just Uriah and Marlene, we're going to go to Faction Ave, maybe shoot some pool, have a few beers, you know, the usual."

"Sure, how is Marlene by the way?"

"She's pretty awesome," Lynn smirks. I don't ask anymore questions because I really don't want her to elaborate.

…

A couple of hours later after we've eaten, freshened up and changed clothes, we head over to Faction Ave in Lynn's van, which is being ruined by the stench of smoke. She really needs to quit it before the smell is embedded in the fabric of the seats forever. We enter the building, and see Marlene and Uriah sitting on the tall barstools around one of the tall, small tables. Marlene always seems to look glamorous, with her long, dark, thick, wavy hair. She could wear a bin-bag and still look like a poster model, I can see why Lynn is so attracted to her.

"Hey Tris, not seen you in a while," Uriah smiles at me, he always makes me feel easy and relaxed. I suppose that's down to his extremely laid-back personality.

"It's only been a week," I reply, raising one eyebrow slightly.

"Hey," Marlene cuts in, "a week is a long time for us," she smiles widely at me, while accepting a greeting hug from Lynn. I've decided that I like Marlene and Uriah, they seem friendly enough and don't ask too many questions. We sit and chat for a minute, looking at the menu to order some snacks, when my eyes drift off to examine my surroundings. I can't help it, I don't know if it's the anxiety or just my personality, but I'm always looking around me, or behind my shoulder. I notice the large booth at the right side of the bar, filled with noisy people. Four is there, along with Zeke, Shauna, Peter and a few others who I don't know. They're all talking loudly and acting quite boisterous, most likely drunk.

"How come you're not sitting with them," I ask Marlene and Uriah, while simultaneously reading my menu and gesturing to the right side of the building.

"Eh, we don't always hang around with them. They're older and boring," Uriah laughs, but I doubt this is the real reason.

"Shut up Urah," Marlene nudges him and turns her attention back to me, "what he really means is that he can't handle being picked on by his older brother."

"Uriah's eighteen and Zeke, his brother is twenty-four," Lynn tells me.

"Yeah, we do get along, he just acts annoying when he's with the guys," Uriah says.

"They all act annoying once they get going," Marlene sniggers, looking at Lynn. "Especially Shauna. She was being an ass so we've avoided her lately." I turn my attention to the booth for a split second, and instantly catch Peter's green eyes, staring back at me. I flick my eyes back to my menu and try to keep my head down, hoping he just looks away and forgets about it. However, I feel his menacing stare burning through my skull. My heart rate picks up and I feel a burn threatening to overcome my cheeks. I get the instinct to want to just run and get out of here quickly, but I know that I must stay and not allow him to ruin my night once again.

"What's that all about," ask Uriah, "Looks like someone's got the hots for you Tris."

"Peter is an ass, don't say that," Marlene slaps Uriah on the shoulder.

"Oh shit! He's coming over!" Lynn warns me. Double crap. I turn my head to see Peter sauntering over, with a beer in hand. He has a slight smirk on his face that makes me want to throw up, what the hell could he possibly want? I can hear Zeke cheering him on from the booth, and see Four giving me an intense stare, furrowing his brow. I'm starting to think that everything about that guy is intense, not just his facial expressions. I'd be lying if I said that it didn't unsettle or nerve me. Peter eventually makes his way over, and leans his upper body on the table next to me, I can smell stale cigarettes and alcohol on his breath, not to mention the overpowering scent of cheap cologne. It's incredibly abusive to my nostrils, he really ought to be more considerate.

"Hey Tris," his voice is quiet and croaky. Menacing, even.

"Hi Peter," I continue to look at my menu which I've been holding in my hand for the past ten minutes, I'm pretty sure that I've decided that I'm not going to order anything, but it gives me a reason not to give him any eye contact.

"So, I just wanted to apologise about the other day," he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear and I flinch at the contact. Everything about him makes my skin crawl, like it's trying to escape my body and be free from his slimy touch. He holds his hands up in surrender, and puts them back into his torn denim pockets. I chose to ignore his remark, I couldnt care less whether he's really sorry or not. "I mean it, I obviously misinterpreted the situation and thought that maybe you liked me, but I can assure you that I get the message. You're not interested. And I want to tell you that it won't happen again."

"You purposely chose to misinterpret the situation Peter," I now give him a deadly stare, "but for your best interest, you better make sure as hell that it won't happen again."

"Wow," he raises his eyebrows and nods his head, "you're a feisty one, can you blame me for wanting to see more of you?"

"Thanks for the apology, just leave," I shoo him away with my hand and turn my attention back to the over-used menu.

"Alright babe," he leans in close to whisper in my ear, "whatever you say," he then slowly walks back to the booth, smirking at me as he goes. I let out a sigh of relief, hoping that I never have to speak to him again. I feel like I'm holding back vomit, even though I acted confident, I was screaming on the inside. Dealing with social situations like that takes a lot out of me.

"What the hell was that all about?" Uriah asks, sounding gobsmacked. Although, as usual, his tone remains light and humorous, managing to bring me back to reality.

"He made a move on me last Friday, but it doesnt matter, he's just an ass. I'm glad we're not sitting over there with them."

"Yeah," Lynn laughs, "arent we all."

Marlene shakes her head, clearly fighting back a smile, while Uriah just sniggers, "so, Tris, what do you do?" He asks me. A week ago I would have replied with nothing, but now, thanks to my mom, I have at least one thing to say.

"Oh, I work at Dauntless bakery," I reply.

"Really? They make the best cakes there," he smiles warmly at me, genuinely interested in knowing more about me.

"I can't take credit for the cakes unfortunately, I just serve them," our small group laughs. Since when did I become so social? "But I agree, they are really good. What is it that you two do?" I gesture to Marlene and Uriah.

"Nothing right now," says Marlene, "but I'll be going to college in September to study for a veterinary degree."

"Wow, so you like animals then?"

"Yeah, I love them, plus my mom's always been a vet so I kind of grew up shadowing her." I nod my head in reply and turn to Uriah, waiting for his answer.

"At the moment I just help my brother at the gym, he does personal training there," he takes a sip of his drink, "but at the end of September I'll be going to college to study teaching. I want to be a high school teacher," I always thought Uriah would want to pursue a sports career or something by the look of him, but now that I've gotten to know him better, I think being a teacher would suit him.

"I haven't really thought about college," I say, "I didnt really do that great in high school, so I'll probably have to work up to a career the long way round."

"Working at the bakery is a good start," says Marlene, "maybe you'll want you own one day."

"That's exactly what my mom said to me," I laugh, "I don't know, maybe I will. We'll see." I don't bring up Lynn's plans because I know what they are, and she doesnt like to talk about it. She's desperately trying to make it as an artist, and although she puts her heart and soul into creating some fantastic pieces, her and I both know that being an artist by profession is never easy, and it's so difficult to get a 'big break' or opportunity. We continue making small talk and shoot a few games of pool. I'm not very good at it but I'm also not terrible. After a couple of games, I start to pick up on technique. The sound of the quiet music and clinking of the pool game fills the atmosphere. The quite laughs between friends surround us, and I can see why people like it here so much. It's nota sweaty club, where the music is so loud that you can't hear anyone, and the flashing lights make it difficult to see, and It's not a sleazy bar, filled with drunk men looking for a one-night date. It's a place where you can actually be social, almost a mixture of everything. I hate to admit it, but when I move around to the left side of the table, I find myself looking up to see Four quickly glance away, turning his attention back to his phone or his boring friends. Was he watching me play? I get confused, wondering why he hasn't just come over to say 'Hi'. I suppose there's some kind of awkward tension going on between our small group of friends and theres, although I don't really see a reason for it. We're all much, much younger than them, so I think it would be odd if we all hung around with them anyway. They seem to be in their mid-twenties, and I haven't even yet reached 18. I carry on playing the game, refusing to look in his direction, although I desperately want to. What the freaking hell is wrong with me? About half way through the game, I actually see him get up and leave. He shrugs on his jacket, downs the last sip of his beer, and grabs his car keys off the table, leaving through the door into the car park. Thankfully, the others never notice that he has more of my attention than the game of pool does, In fact, I think I only just noticed that myself. This 'Four' guy intrigues me, the first person to actually catch my full attention since Lynn. I plan on seeing more of him.

A/N- Thanks for the follow/favs/reviews! It really helps me to keep this story going :)

So, as you've probably noticed, I've switched up the ages of the characters.

Four: 21 (turning 22 in October) Tris: 17 (turning 18 in about 10 days) and Lynn, Uriah and Marlene are all 18 (they would have been in the same school year). Shauna is a couple of years older than Lynn, and she lives with Zeke (who is 24). The rest of their group (who we aren't really specifically introduced to, except for Christina and Will, are also older, between the ages of 20-25).