A/N- Rights go to Veronica Roth.

So I finally have wifi again! Sorry for not updating last week, but it gave me a chance to really crack on with this story. I have it all planned out. I've also been working on telling Four's 'Jaded' story, from when he was a teenager. I might wait until this story is finished before I post it though, but review or PM me if you want to see a sneak peak chapter. :)

September 1st

Today is the day of Lynn's court hearing. This morning, I pulled the most sophisticated outfit I could find out of my closet, and laid it out on my bed. I even put effort into my hair and makeup which is highly unusual of me. Unfortunately, then my mom walked in and asked me what I was doing. I told her that I was getting ready to go to court, to which she replied with "absolutely not." I whinged and whined, arguing with her about the fact that Lynn needs me there to support her; it's what any good friend would do. "Beatrice, I think it would be best for you if you went to work as normal. I don't think you would be able to handle watching your best friend get sent to prison," she said. I told her that Lynn might not even go to prison, but she still wouldn't agree with me and eventually she won the argument. I decided in the end that maybe it would be best if I didn't go. Because, then my mom would probably come with me, and then risk finding out about the fact that I too was also arrested. So here I am, stood in the bakery, mindlessly disinfecting the counters and wiping down the tables. I am on edge, and my stomach has flipped so many times I can't bring myself to eat anything.

"Are you still feeling unwell?" Kyle asks from behind me.

"Huh?" I reply, dumbfounded.

"You were off work last week because you were ill…" he trails off, looking confused. I forgot about the fact I told them that I had the flu. What a dumb excuse, I'm sure it takes longer than a couple of days to recover from the flu.

"Oh, yeah, um I'm feeling much better now." I walk past him to get to the other tables that need cleaning.

"I heard about your friend Lynn," he says. I almost drop the cleaning spray, my back stiffening up.

"How did you know about that?" I turn to look at him.

"Who doesn't know about it? Word travels fast." He walks behind the counter and starts cashing up. I bite my cheek and study his reaction for a while, but he remains expressionless and avoids looking at me. I don't know what he's thinking.

"She's a good person."

"I never said that she wasn't." He smiles and looks at me, "What happened? Is she going to prison?"

"You know I'm not going to answer any of that, right?" I raise an eyebrow.

"I heard that she was dealing to school kids and that she's going away for ten years." He picks up the brush and starts sweeping the floor around my feet. I grab hold of the brush handle to stop him and get his attention, he looks up at me, almost amused.

"Are you crazy? You actually believe that?" I snap.

"That's the only side of the story I've heard." He's trying to wind me up. It's working.

"Well it's not true! She got caught smoking pot, that's it. Not that it's any of your business. I just don't want you to misinform anyone else."

"Don't worry, I won't." I let go of the brush handle and he continues to sweep the floor. "I just wanted to know why you had such a sulk on."

"To be honest, that's none of your business either. I'm fine. Now can we please hurry up with the cleaning so that I can get out of here?"

"Sure," he walks over to the machines, turning them off and putting the cups away. "But, Tris?" I look up at him, waiting for him to continue. "I know that there's more to the story than what you're telling me." He stares me down and my face heats up out of anger and the pressure of the situation. I can't let him know that I'm hiding something, even if he already suspects it. We continue to organise and clean the bakery in total silence. Although, I feel his stare burning through me the whole time. It takes us especially long to clean up today, since we haven't done a deep clean in over a week. When we're finished, we both go outside and lock up, walking our separate ways. I don't even say goodbye to Kyle. He annoyed me by poking his nose around in my business. The air is clammy and I'm walking unusually fast to get home. Four told me that he would ring me when there's news about Lynn because Shauna was going to the court hearing, and she told Four that she would tell him everything that happened. I have no idea what Lynn is doing right now. She could be locked up for all I know, or she could be sat at home. No, if she was sat at home then she would have called me. So that means that she's gone to prison? I sigh, frustrated, I can't do this to myself. I have to wait until I hear from Four before I start thinking about all of that. My feet carry me home in record speed, and as soon as I get in I dump my bag and head up to my room. I grab a towel and strip out of my dirty work clothes, and go to the bathroom to jump in the shower. I let the shower water wash away the tears that fall down my face. The tears that I shed for my friend Lynn. Once I'm out, I dry off and change into clean clothes. My mom left me a plate of food for me in the kitchen to heat up in the microwave. It doesn't look too appealing right now, so I cover it back up and put it in the fridge for later. Whilst I'm sat in front of the TV, watching a brainless reality show, my phone starts to vibrate. Four.

"Hello?" I say.

"Hey, I'm outside your house. Are you home?" His tone of voice doesn't give anything away. I want to know if he has good knows or bad news.

"Yeah, I'll go open the door." I hang up and open the front door to find Four standing there, leaning casually against the porch frame. He stands up straight and smiles at me. I return the smile stiffly, holding the front door open for him to walk in. He's never been inside my house before, and although it's not posh and fancy like his is, I couldn't care less right now.

"Do you want anything? A drink?" I ask.

"No, I'm fine thank you. But I think we should sit down." He shoves his hands in his pockets and scrunches his lips together. This can't be good. I lead him into the living room, where we sit next to each other on the sofa.

"Is she alright? What's happened to her? What did Shauna say?" My voice rushes out of my mouth, sounding crazed.

"Tris," he puts a hand on my back, rubbing it a little before letting it drop. "Calm down you'll give yourself a heart-attack. I just got off the phone with Shauna. Lynn's been sentenced." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. My voice gets caught in my throat.

"Just tell me," I say. "Just tell me everything." He looks me in the eye, nodding his head a little. He takes a deep breath and begins telling me about the trial.

"Well, the reason the court case was so quick was because they really wanted to get things moving along so that they could prosecute the dealer. Lynn gave some information about the guy, not all, but some. She also pleaded guilty to possession of class b and class c drugs. Her lawyer applied for house arrest, because of her age, circumstances and mental health. She's going to have to serve three months in prison, with one year in house arrest." I suck in a sharp breath and scrub my palms over my face. "She also has to pay a three-thousand dollar fine. But, she got really lucky, it could have been a whole lot worse."

"So that's it? She's just gone straight to prison for three months? She was only arrested less than a week ago!"

"I know, but since her parents couldn't afford bail, she wasn't allowed to be let out. And they can't keep her in police custody for any longer, she had to be transported to an actual prison as soon as possible."

"What if she doesn't cope? Prison is awful, that's not fair! Why couldn't she serve the whole of her sentence at home?"

"That's just the way it is. It's a low-security prison so she's not going to be shacking up with a bunch of murderers. The reason she got granted the house arrest in the first place was because of her age and her involvement with helping to track down the dealer. If it weren't for that, she'd be in there for a whole lot longer." I lean back on the sofa and stare up at the ceiling.

"I just can't believe it."

"No one can. Shauna said her parents are devastated."

"Well, maybe if they had done a better job at parenting she wouldn't be in this situation in the first place," I say, angrily. But as soon as I've said it I want to take it back. I don't want Four to see the bitter side of my personality.

"Tris, it's pointless being angry. And blaming someone will only make it worse. What's done is done. Lynn made her own decisions, and now she has to deal with that."

"Was Shauna just as devastated?" I raise a pointed eyebrow. I don't know much about her, but from what I've seen so far, she's not the nicest or caring person.

"Of course," Four frowns. "How could you even ask that?"

"Because, last I saw, she was shouting and screaming at Lynn."

"That doesn't mean she doesn't love her," Four laughs. "Tris, it's what sisters do. There's no such thing as a perfect sibling relationship. Just because they scream and shout doesn't mean they wouldn't jump in front of a bullet for each other."

"Yeah," I whisper. I had never really thought about it too much before. I guess I would understand if Caleb and I had grown up together.

"You weren't mentioned, by the way. So her parents still have no idea that you were arrested."

"That's lucky for me isn't it," I roll my eyes. For some reason, I feel like I wish my mother knew about the arrest. I feel like I need to be punished. Four leans back and puts his arm on the back of the sofa, so that it's behind my head. I don't know why but I desperately want to just curl up to his side and rest my head on his chest, and be able to revel in his body warmth comfortably. However, we're not that close so it would be incredibly stupid of me and would probably freak him out. Snap out of it, Tris.

"You know," his voice sounds huskier than usual, and his eyes examine my facial features when he speaks to me. "Lynn is really going to need a friend right now. Whether it just be by answering her phone calls or going to visit her once a week in prison. She needs her best friend to help her through what will most likely be the most difficult time in her life." He starts to twirl my hair around his finger. "And you need to be strong. She's not going to be the same person who you've grown up with. That place is going to break her, and it won't be pretty. She won't be able to have any drugs, and if she was dependent on them then she'll struggle to no end. But she'll get through it, especially if she has you." I could listen to the deep rumble of his voice all day, it relaxes me.

"You're right." So we sit there for a while, basking in the peaceful silence after a hectic day. Then, Four pulls his arm away from where it was resting behind my head and pulls his shirt sleeve up to look at his watch.

"Have you eaten yet?" He asks.

"No, didn't really fancy anything."

"Want to go out?"

"Depends where we're going," I smirk.

"That's my thing," he pokes the corner of my lip. "I want to go to my favourite restaurant."

"What kind of food is it?"

"That's a surprise," he winks and stands up from the sofa, picking his keys and phone up from the coffee table.

"Is it fancy? Do I need to get changed?" I'm wearing patterned trousers with a white blouse, the outfit I had planned for going to court to see Lynn.

"No, you look good," he smiles.

We're driving in the car for about twenty minutes before he starts looking for a parking space. He parks down a dead-end road and we climb out. "Are you sure you want to park your nice car down here?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow.

"It's fine, there's no where else to park in the city." I walk around the car so that I'm next to him, and follow his lead to this 'mystery' restaurant. If it's anything to do with seafood, I'll stick to the side salad. I'll eat anything except for seafood, I hate the taste, smell and texture of it. The streets are really busy with people rushing around after work or on their way out. A few brush past me and nudge me to the side, I'm not cut out for city life. Four is good at dodging all the people and I can't keep up with him. He looks like he's about to cross the road, but before his does, he turns around and wraps his hand around mine. He doesn't link his fingers with mine like lovers do, he's holding my hand like a brother holds his sister's. He pulls me across the busy road and when we reach the pavement, I pull my hand from his grip. I see a flash of hurt in his eyes before he covers it up with his easy smile. I don't want him to treat me like a child, or for him to feel as though he needs to look after me and protect me. We approach a restaurant named "Gino's" and Four opens the door for me.

"Here we are," he says. I walk past him into the restaurant and instantly realise why he likes it so much. The smell of warm, delicious flavoursome food hits me like a brick wall, and the atmosphere is enchanting. The place is decorated in deep, rich reds and warm cream colours. The tables are made of dark wood surrounded by plush seats and cushioned chairs. Soft music plays quietly in the background, and the noise of people talking quietly and laughing amongst themselves fills the room. It's not too noisy, and not too quiet. There are no screaming children running around and causing disruption, but they are sat at their seats calmly eating with their families. There are a few couples sat at the small tables, gazing at each other lovingly and holding hands. This place is warm, homely, and filled with love. It's everything that Four's house isn't.

"Table for two?" A tall dark-haired waiter with an Italian accent says, whilst picking up two burgundy leather-encased menus.

"Please. At my usual table," Four replies.

"Of course, Sir. Follow me," the waiter walks through the restaurant, weaving through the various tables and we follow him. He takes us to a small table in the corner of the restaurant, away from the hustle and bustle of both the kitchen and large dinner parties. The waiter pulls out a chair for me and I slide in opposite Four. He picks up the napkin from the table and drapes it over my lap before placing our menus in front of us. "What can I get you to drink?" He asks. Four looks at me first.

"I'll have whatever you're having," I say.

"Okay, we'll have a bottle of your Pino Grigio with lemonade please."

"No problem Sir, I'll be with you shortly," the waiter smiles and walks away back to the kitchen.

"I hope the food is as nice as the decor," I open up my menu and start scanning the mains list.

"Oh it's definitely better," says Four. "They have pretty much everything: pizza, pasta, meats."

"Pasta's my favourite." I eat so much pizza at home it's nice to choose a well-made pasta dish when I come to a restaurant.

"Mine too," he smiles. "Want to share the dough balls and bruschetta for starter?"

"Bruschetta?" I raise my eyebrow.

"You'll like it, it's like grilled bread covered in olive oil and tomatoes, with a bit of garlic."

"Sounds nice," I continue to scan my menu. Eventually, the waiter comes back to serve our drinks and take our order. Four orders the Spaghetti Bolognese and I order the Lamb Tagliatelle. When the waiter leaves, Four opens the bottle of wine and pours a small amount into my glass. Then he pours the glass of lemonade with it, and does the same with his.

"Try it, I think it tastes better with the lemonade," he says. I pick up the glass and sip a little. It doesn't taste strong at all, I actually like it.

"It's nice," I put the glass back down and study him for a moment. He seems calm and at ease here, the most relaxed I think I've ever seen him. "So, do you come here often?"

"At least once a week," he says, as the waiter arrives with our starters. "Thank you," he tells the waiter.

"Every week?" I reply, surprised. Why would he come to the same restaurant so many times?

"Yeah," he chuckles. "I like it here. I feel comfortable," he shrugs his shoulders and bites into a dough ball. I do the same, dipping it in butter first. "I come here when I want to get away from everything."

"You come here alone?"

"I've never brought anyone here before. I don't even think I've ever told anyone about this place before."

"So what makes me so special?" I sip my drink again, finishing off my starter.

"I like your company," he says simply. I decide to leave it at that for now because I know he doesn't like to be bombarded with questions. We talk about Chicago and the other places that we've visited. I've never left America, but he travelled to Europe when he was younger. Soon enough, the waiter arrives again. This time, to take away our empty plates and replace them with our food. It smells delicious. Four orders another pitcher of lemonade and we tuck into the food. "Did you want to do anything after this? Do you like going to the cinema or anything?"

"I'm good. I don't usually go out that much," I laugh.

"Then what do you normally do all the time when you're with Lynn?"

"I don't know, we just…hang out I suppose."

"Okay, so do you want to 'hang out' when we've finished eating?" He looks at me waiting for my response, but I pause, looking down at my plate.

"Four, you don't have to feel sorry for me because you think I'll be lonely without Lynn. Just because she's not around right now doesn't mean the duty of babysitting me has been passed on to you."

"I don't want to babysit you Tris," he frowns. I don't feel like making him angry tonight so I just nod in response and we continue to eat in silence. "Is your food good?" He eventually asks me.

"Yeah, really good. Is yours?"

"Mhmm," he has a mouthful of food. "Always is." I know I tried to drop the earlier topic of discussion but I can't help but think about it. Him saying that he liked my company bothers me, because I don't know what he means by that. I don't know what he thinks about me. And I want to know.

"What did you mean, when you said that you liked my company?" I ask. He slows down chewing his food and looks away from his plate for a moment, before wiping his mouth on the napkin and looking up at me, knife and fork still in hand.

"I meant that I like spending time with you." He shrugs me off and continues eating, but I'm not going to let him get away with it that easily.

"But what about the others? You know, your best friends…"

"They're not my best friends," he says shortly, and swallows a gulp of his drink. I can tell he's becoming irritated with my questioning but that won't stop me.

"So they're just friends and acquaintances?"

"I don't know Tris," he puts his drink back down and I can sense his leg bobbing up and down underneath the table. "Sometimes, they can all act like dicks to be honest," he shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly and continues to eat.

"Why do you hang around with them then?"

"I suppose they help pass the time a little," he grins mischievously. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I like Zeke, he's been my friend for years. And the others are okay, it's just that, they don't really… understand me."

"What is it that's so hard to understand?"

"You wouldn't get it," he shakes his head and fiddles with the end of the napkin.

"Why do you do that?" I put my knife and fork down, now finished with my food.

"Do what?"

"Impassively say something that has a double meaning, whenever you talk about yourself."

"I mean," he drags out, and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You wouldn't get it because you don't see me through the same lens as they do."

"Same lens?" I-" He cuts me off.

"You understand me, without even realising it. You know me…you already know who I am. You may not understand it yet yourself, but soon you'll realise."

"I really wish that you would stop talking in riddles."

"It's just," his tone of voice starts to elevate, but then he takes a deep breath, controlling himself. "I don't like talking about myself. But with you, it's more approachable. I can see myself in you." I frown a little, watching him avoid making eye contact with me. "Why do you think I keep talking to you? Invite only you here, when I've known you for just a month and everyone else for years. I just think it would be nice to have a friend like you," his cheeks start to warm a little. "It would be nice to have someone who I actually talk to, someone who doesn't look at me like I'm some kind of alien species." He laughs.

"I know how you feel," I bite my cheek and he finally looks at me.

"Like now. I'm answering your questions, and talking about feelings." He scratches the back of his neck. "Which is something that I never do. Ever."

"Well, we don't have to talk about it anymore, wouldn't want you to implode."

"I'd appreciate that," he smiles weekly and I laugh at him. There's something that's becoming easier about our conversations, and we both have a certain fire to ourselves that isn't always a piece of cake to deal with. I decide, it's going to be nice having a friend like Four. From the outside, we're so different, we may as well have been born in different galaxies. But, I know that there is something more to him. Something more to those blue eyes, even if that something is pain or torture.

A/N- as always, thank you for the reviews, the favourites and the follows. And generally just your overall support! I will probably be posting the next chapter very soon, just to catch up on my updating schedule and because I have written ahead quite considerably.

Hope you liked this Fourtris chapter

See you next time! :)