Chapter 4

Over the weekend, I feel unattached to reality. Although something amazing happens in peculier.

I wake up in the morning feeling oddly different, but mostly tired. Christina had dragged me to the football game the other day, and I noticed the significant amount of girls, and girls in particular that had suddenly found an interest in coming. But to their surprise, Four wasn't playing today. Either he declined their offer, or was just busy.

Christina cheered next to me at the top of her lungs, screaming along with the crowd. I resisted the urge to cover my ears with my hands. I didn't ever really join in with the crowd. It just wasn't my thing. Instead, I usually watched the game trying to tune out the cheers or read.

I groggily get out of bed, knowing that once i'm awake, it's almost impossible to get me to sleep again. I head to the bathroom, which is in between Caleb, my older brother, and my own room. I quickly strip down and apply some deodorant, because I know I must likely smell from last night, and throw on a t-shirt and some jeans. I look in the mirror at myself. My hair is right above my shoulders, and thin and choppy with some layers. It could be a boys haircut. I lazily brush it, and head downstairs.

My mom and brother are both in the kitchen. Caleb is eating at the counter while furiously writing down something in his notebook. His hair is unkempt, and he is still dressed in his pajamas.

"Good morning, Beatrice." My mother looks at me from the corner of her eye and smiles. She seems to be cooking eggs. "Hows my favorite writer? Was the game fun?"

"I'm fine mom. The game last night was tiring. I don't know why Christina drags me to it every Friday." I chuckle.

My mom laughs, and continues to make the eggs. It's Saturday mornings I love the most. My whole family is usually free during Saturday mornings and not out on business trips, or meetings, so we all have a family breakfast.

I hear my father stirring upstairs, his steps creaking the floorboards. Today was one of those days were we would be a family.

But unfortunately, not for me.

"Mom." I say. "I think I am going to the cafe."

"The one near riverside park?" She asks, frowning.

"Yea." I say. I feel the sudden urge to get a coffee and a bagel with cream cheese. "I'll be back for lunch."

"Meeting anyone in particular?" She raises an eyebrow at me.

"No." I shrug. "I just want to go."

She smiles, but barely this time. "Ok, I guess. Your father will be home all day today, but I have a business meeting with the CEO of the… just an important company."

I smile at her. My mom designs clothes which consist mostly are fancy attire. I have seen her work. It's amazing. Nothing I would really wear, but still awesome. I give my mom a quick kiss on the cheek and turn on my heels towards the door, first whacking Caleb upside the head. "Morning, fart breath."

"Hi, barracuda." He chants back.

After grabbing my back off the rack, I head outside, slinging my bag across my shoulder. I am instantly greeted with a gust of wind brushing my hair back. I hastily get in my truck, and drive to the cafe, feeling a bit jumpy.

The coffee shop is reluctantly a little empty. Just me and two other people probably needing to get a quick snack before they head off to work.

"May I please get a mocha and bagel please?" I ask the lady taking orders.

In a couple of minutes, I am sitting on what looks like a bar chair, closest to the huge window at the front of the shop and stare outside at the park. It's relaxing, some how. Some kids play on the field, all muddy and dirty from playing tag. I smile. The sight reminds me of a kid, when I was so reckless and carefree, usually playing with Susan and Christina, before Susan moved away. I sigh and take a sip from my mocha, slowly chewing on the front of my bagel with little nibbles.

The bell chimes to the right of me, meaning someone has entered. I don't look though. I stay fixated on the field.

"Coffee." Says a bland voice behind me. I don't turn to look though. His voice is rather masculine, deep and enchanting…

"Um...OK." Says the girl taking his order. "Would you-"

"Dark." He spits. "Nothing. Just dark."

"Okay then." Huffs the girl. "Name?"

"I'll be here waiting. No need for a name."

No need for a name?

I turn to look at the man speaking in the conversation. I don't see his face, just the back of him. He wears a black pullover hoodie, with the hood on as if to hide his face.

The girl shakes her head, and says, "Don't I ever get any manners?"

The guy seems to twitch at the word. Manners… Where have I heard that from?

He reaches for his back pocket, and pulls out a twenty and slaps it on the counter. The man then turns around, not waiting for his change, and starts to walk towards the back of the room where I am. I don't see his face that well, just some hair that pokes out of the top of his hood. He seems to spot me right away though. And he takes off his hood.

Its him.

I feel my breath get hitched. It's Four. At this Coffee shop.

I don't know what to do. I feel as if the universe has dumped their heavy burden on my and said "Let's see what happens now".

Although Four is not a burden. More of a masterpiece.

His facial expression is unreadable, he just stares at me. I don't know if he remembers me. I hope he doesn't. He may not hate me as much.

"Ok. Great. I just wanted a coffee, you know. I didn't want to get chased by the schools lame excuse for a paparazzi." He yaps it, sounding annoyed. Yep, he definitely remembered me.

I study his face. His defined jawline, hooked nose, the way his ears stick out a bit. I don't know if I should just act natural, or bossy, or show show the journalist side of myself.

Instead, I just grunt.

"I'm not in school, am I?" I take another sip of my drink. "I'm on my break, leave me alone."

Four seems to be taken back by the comment. I shouldn't be talking to him this way. Four was the god of Witherstone high at the moment, probably for his acting skill or his masculinity. God of his fans. It isn't all the time that a 'fan' like myself suddenly comes out and tells him to leave them alone. That's usually him, telling his fans to "Piss off". I guess he is not used to it. His instantly changes his expression back to it's plain state.

"You're not going to interview me?" He asks, still sounding uncertain, though his voice portraits no uncertainty whats-so-ever.

"No." I say, tucking my hair behind my ear, and then turning back into the position I was in before to stare out the window at the green fields, and the little kids running with joy, tumbling down the hills, chasing each other, having genuine fun. I know I should do my job as a good journalist, and chase his down with questions, but why bother when he can be such an-for lack of better word-ass?

I stay like this for a minute or so, then, I feel a body sit next to me, its shoulder brushing my own. I follow the line of this person's shoulder, up his chest, and neck, until I finally reach his face. I am greeted by a face shadowed by a hood, dark brown hair poking out. I wouldn't be able to see whoever it was if they didn't sit so close. Now, I am met with deep blue eyes.

"Yes?" I ask, trying to sound normal. I am very aware of how much space is in between us. Six inches, at most. The space feels charged with electricity. Probably because I am in the presence of a very, very, very hot guy. Doesn't he hate me? Why is he here?

"Well," he clears his throat. "Since you are not going to interview me, I figured I sit next to you." He chuckles. "Anyone else I'd sit next to would bomb me with questions."

I look down at my bagel. It's like he was throwing himself at me and didn't realize it. He had instantly changed his mood from 'grumpy' to his 'fine' state. Now was my chance to get as much as I can out of him and add it to the article we would write. It was perfect. I could hear Christina's voice in my head, urging me to ask anything I could think of.

In a friendly manner, of course.

I take another small bite from my bagel. It fills me with bliss. I just can't get over the fact that sitting next to me is the all time famous super star Four. It makes me feel uneasy… in a good or bad way, I can't tell.

"So..." I say, then immediately regret. So? So? I had to up my game!

I can feel Four's eyes on me, but I pretend not to notice their gleaming stare. "You know," he says, after some time, "I thought you would interview me, and try to get close to me at any risk like everyone else when I first met you, but now, your very different from other people. Your actually treating me like a normal person. And you don't seem content with harassing me with questions."

That throws a wrench in my strategy. This is probably the most I have ever hear him say (other than the movie I watched of him), and he was being nice. Plus, he liked it when I didn't ask any questions… So I can't just start asking him questions randomly now. I curse myself out in my head for taking to long. I decide to start simple, like it is a conversation. Then maybe ease back into the questions.

"All I am doing is being silent." I say. "How else would I treat you?"

"Heavenly." He shrugs. "Extremely hot."

I laugh. An actual, genuine, laugh. I feel as if this is just plain normal. This is a normal conversation, with normal people, not anyone special like an actor who has fame and fortune. I look back up at him. He looks normal, as well, laughing along with me. He could easily be mistaken for no one. I realize I have been staring too long.

"Yes?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

I blink. "Oh.. Sorry. I was just-"

"Um… Dark coffee? No name? Anyone?" Asks another lady up at the desk, holding a steaming hot drink.

"And, that's my cue." Says Four, who starts to rise up next to me to retrieve his drink. "I guess I will see you again soon, if you come here as often as I may think."

I nod. "I come here quite often."

"I like this place. I bet you you will see me coming again." He nods back at me. "'Till we meet again, coffee shop girl."

I smile at him, hoping that the blush rising in my cheeks doesn't show. For a second, he sounds like a regular kid, a friend. Maybe he doesn't hate me anymore and think of me as some type of annoying interviewer. I mean, he even has a nickname for me already.

And with that, he takes his coffee, flips on his hood, and leaves. The coffee shop bell rings at his departure.

I guess getting some information on him wouldn't be as hard as I thought.

Maybe there's a whole new side of him waiting to be discovered.

I sigh, and take another bite of my now cold bagel.

The next day, I spring out of bed, giddy and full of joy. I know, as a fact, that Four, Tobias Eaton, whatever, will be at that very coffee shop. My very favorite coffee shop.

Yesterday, I ended up leaving the coffee shop later than I should have, already happy, waiting for the next day. I don't know what has gotten into me, I just feel on edge with a feeling of something pure swimming inside me. I had gone home, and started to write a whole new story. First, though, I wrote the all the details about Four I had learned (figuring Christina, Al, and the rest of the journalist club to would've wanted me to, anyway) even though it wasn't much, just his new favorite coffee shop and his attitude. Then just wrote and drew mindless things from my imagination. Even my dad noticed my happiness and state of not really being with reality.

"Beatrice," he had said. "I called you to come down for dinner five times."

"Sorry, dad." I had replied.

He chuckled. "What has gotten into you, young lady?"

I pull out my dresser, determined to look nice. I end up with a red denim shirt, and blue jeans, brushing my hair thoroughly before clipping it back with some pins I find. I take one look at myself in the mirror, feeling kind of foolish for dressing sort of fancy. It's just Four. Well, Four the superstar.

I rush down the stairs into the kitchen to be greeted with my mother, who looks annoyed. I decide not to say anything, as she paddles around the kitchen, frowning, and ruffling through things, as if she is looking for something.

"Looking for the car keys?" I ask, while I pour myself some water.

"No." She mumbles. "Only looking for… Ah!"

I look over at the floor, hidden beneath some of her work papers, which is an envelope. She picks it up, slings her bag across her shoulder, and places a chaste kiss on my temple.

"Going for work." She announces. "I will be back soon. Oh, and don't forget to tell Caleb to feed Ginny!"

Ginny was Caleb's hamster. He got her a long time ago, when she was full of light and happiness. Now, she's a fat, old, thing that hobbles around in her cage, refusing to get washed or held too long.

"Ok." I say, although I think that Ginny has enough fat to last her through the whole rest of the year.

She leaves with a loud closed door, and I watch her out the window until she drives away. And then, my mind wanders as I sit on the sofa in the living room, but eventually, I end up thinking about Four.

I don't know why I think of him, maybe because the information I have about him is not enough. I plan to leave to the coffee shop soon, thinking he will be their. I run to the door and snatch my bag off the ground, slinging it across my body. I really need to stop over analyzing thoughts in my head.

Before I leave, I take one last look in the mirror at myself thinking to see some confident beautiful being standing before me, but when I do see myself, something deflates inside of me that I don't understand.

I realize I am not pretty, I am not desirable, I have to curves, and without makeup, I look like a 12 year old. He won't come back to the coffee shop to see me. He was just probably being nice to me. Why would I think that a star like him would want to meet me.

I then realized that I had everything planned out in my head, and this morning went by so fast because all I thought was that everything was going to be perfect just like in my head, that I didn't even think that maybe he wasn't going to come. I was too busy getting ready. I mean, he didn't even say he was going to came, right?

I sigh, and head back to the hallway and take off my bag, resting it down carefully on the rack. My fingers fly up to my temple to massage it, and I think of myself to be foolish and stupid. How could I let my mind be like this? So… not… me. I slowly walk back up to my room, and thrust myself at my bed.

I close my eyes. He wouldn't come. Why was I so pumped about his arrival at the cafe?

I try to find out why I feel this way, why I am acting so… strange.

I dig deep trying to find answers. Yet I find none.

Did you see my multiple references to divergent? =) I want to get 3 more reviews before continuing! Please let me know!

Peace & love

~Sky