I know, 2 updates in a week. It's just that I'm on break so…

Chapter 6

It's been a month now. Chris has finally 'healed' from her cold. We are one month closer publishing the article, and the thought is crazing me with energy.

We have written a lot about Four in the weekly paper, and thankfully, I don't think he gets them. Everyone else does. We don't have to worry anymore about getting rid of the last bits of the schools paper because everyone wanted to know the latest gossip on Four, or as Christina would say.

People have seemed to flare down a bit about Four's arrival though. In other words, it's old news. People still cord around him, yes. Although him and I have made it an occasion to meet each other at the coffee shop every Tuesday and Thursday, him in his pull over hoodie and baseball cap, me in my worn-out school clothes and tattered tennis shoes. I have managed to get to know him better. We don't have any classes together unfortunately, and we don't really hang out in school, so no one knows about our 'relationship'. Trust me, if Christina did, I think she would beat the living crap out of me for 1: Not telling her about it, and 2: Not getting enough information, although I do have a fair amount of it stashed in the leather notebook sitting on my desk at home that I bring with me to the shop and pretend to write down story ideas, when really, I write down stuff he says.

Today was Thursday, and I was expected to meet Four at the coffee shop like always without anyone knowing, yet Christina was on my case.

"Where the hell do you go these days, anyway?" She says. "Ooooh, did Trissy-poo finally score a boy?"

I scowl at her. "Did Will realize your unyielding love for him?"

She scowls back, "Touche, idiot."

I laugh, and pull myself out of my chair to get ready to leave, slinging my bag over my shoulder. We were currently at my house. Chris had come and stopped by just to drop of some journalism stuff, and we ended up in my room talking about pointless things, like shopping, and boys. Okay, she did most the taking, but I didn't mind.

"I have to go. See you later?"

"Ttyl." She says. She always uses these stupid abbreviations these days. "Oh, did you get any info on Four? The guys so closed off! All I got was some stupid fact about some rumor about him changing with the window open and-"

"Have you been stalking him?" I raise an eyebrow.

"No!" She claims. "I've just been extra productive. Unlike you." She rolls her eyes. "Bye, Tris."

Little did she know that I was starting to peel back the layers of Four. And we have formed an odd and unusual friendship.

"Bye, Christina."

On my way to the coffee shop, I find it weird that Four and I have been doing this for so long. I can't believe that someone as popular as him takes time out of his days to come and see me, a nobody. I suppose to him a play a good friend whom he can unwind and talk to.

I walk into the store, not looking to see if Four is their. I just listen to the beautiful sound of the bell chiming in my ear. I walk up the counter, and order a drink.

Four and I haven't been doing this for a full month, maybe a couple weeks, since he came in the middle of November. Besides, since it's December now, the weather has gotten cooler, and I know the snow will be appearing harder than normal. The only time we didn't have snowfall was between May and September. (AN THIS IS CHICAGO!)

I sit in our normal spot, staring at the hills. Bits of snowfall come down, and I smile when I see two little kids frolicking and having fun.

I hear the bell chime again, knowing it must be Four, and I wait for him to order so I can hear his masculine, deep voice again.

But I don't. Instead, all I feel is a body sitting next to me. I look abruptly to see him, wearing a long brown winter coat buttoned to his neck that drapes down all the way to the floor, covering anything else he wore, and a grey beanie shadowed above his eyebrows. The beanie suited him, a little bit of his hair sticking out of it at the front. It wasn't fully on, sagging a little at the back.

"Hi." I say. I can talk to him normally now knowing that he thinks I treat him differently and we are 'friends'. Besides, most people don't identify him as his true star self because he is always hidden by hats and baggy sweaters. Now, though, he does look like someone important dressed all fancy.

"Hi, sorry I'm late. I just had a winter… photoshoot." He says, with a hint of dissatisfaction. I laugh at the thought, and take another sip of my drink.

"Are you gonna order anything?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Nah, they serve a bunch of crap there."

"You still came here, though?"

"I couldn't leave you hanging, could I?"

I feel flustered, although I don't know why. Were just friends. I'm just this extremely handsome guys' friend.

"Ok." I say.

"I kind of snuck here." He fidgets. "I… they… didn't really see me, hopefully. I usually have to do that, I mean. Sneak away from the paparazzi and fangirls. But it's worth it."

I wonder why he does that. Just for me, too.

"Ok." I repeat. "Um… what do you want to do?"

"Normal." He says, relaxing a bit. And I do the same. We usually just asked each other unpractical and random questions.

"Why are you dressed like that?" The comment slips my mouth before I have time to register it.

"Oh. Well, I look hot in something other than a sweater and a baseball cap, eh?" He smirks, sounding like any other stuck up, hormonal teenage boy, and I let out a nervous laugh, heat rising to my cheeks, because I do find him hot.

Wait, what?

Did I really just think that?

Did I call Four, my friend, hot?

He's my friend! My friend. F-R-I-E-N-D.

My really hot and popular friend.

I shake my head. Stop.

"Anyway," he continues, "I had to get dressed for the photoshoot, and I had no time to change. The ladies aren't complaining, though."

"Ah." I say.

He laughs, then, his gaze softens. "Look. I know we've been doing this for a while, and it's kind of late saying this know, but thank you." He takes a breath. "Thank you for being a good friend. Lately, things have been stressing and hard lately, and you were a good supporter. Damn, I sound stupid, but yea. You have treated me normally, and I really appreciate it. That's why I like doing this so often. Us, I mean."

My heart pulses. I force it to calm down. "It's what you deserve to be treated like, Four. Now shut up, and act like a normal friend. Stop saying how 'normal' I am." I smile, and he smiles back. But then, suddenly, his face turns white like the living day-light has been sucked out of him.

"What?" I follow his gaze to the window next to the parking lot on the side of the coffee shop where I parked. I am greeted with a black van. People unload the car, looking frantic and excited, all dressed in black, men and women alike, holding camera's. "What's-"

Before I know what's happening, I feel a big hand being wrapped around my wrist, yanking me to the side. I let out a small yelp because his grip is tight, and the sudden jerk surprises me, but he doesn't let go. Instead, he drags me to the exit at the back of the shop, leading me outside. I am aware of the stares the cashier girl gives us.

"Four?" I ask. "Four? Whats going on? Four!"

He stops in his tracks and puts his hand over my mouth, shutting me up. Electricity and nervousness shoots through me at his touch.

"Please." He says. "It's the paparazzi." His breath hitches, and he releases his hand from my mouth. "Act natural."

He disregards his jacket, tossing it to the floor and kicking it in some bush at the side of the shop to much of my surprise. Underneath, he wears a tight white button up shirt tucked into his black jeans. He rolls up his sleeves midway, and I see how define his muscles look. He does have a really nice body. I try not to stare.

He starts to lead me to the front of the coffee shop.

"Four?" I whisper. "Your leading us to where the paparazzi is!"

"Play along." He just says.

"What about my car?" I ask.

"We'll deal with that later!"

We turn the corner to the parking lot, and I see the van. A man holding a camera turns his gaze to us. I gulp in a breath.

Then, before I know what's happening, Four whips around, pulling his beanie farther on his head. Then much to my surprise, he holds my face in place and smashes his lips to mine.

I'm too surprised to react. Did Four just kiss me?

I feel something stirring in my chest I can't identify. He leans back, scanning my eyes, and I look back, widening my own eyes out of surprise. And the he does it again, this time more passionately. I start to realize what he's doing, and slowly kiss back.

Just a normal couple, kissing. Not a superstar boy making out with a complete stranger.

He begins to back up to his car, leading me with him. It's parked three spots from the black van. Thankfully, the paparazzi doesn't see identify him, because all they see is my side, and most of his face is covered by me or his beanie. I am still kissing Four, and they turn into fast, vigorous kisses. I know it's all an act, and I try to make it seem most realistic as possible even if it's fake. It feels so real though. His lips on mine. I feel my cheeks warm up by his touch. His tongue glides across my lip, and I shiver.

We arrive at his car, a BMW, nothing fancy, and I turn, flipping the door open and launching myself into the passenger seat, him following my actions quickly. He starts the engine, not bothering to buckle his seatbelt, it fires up, and we have no trouble quickly speeding out of the parking lot.

After I regain composure, my lips tingle from the long kiss. I feel a rush of energy. I was just kissed by a boy. This is the first time. Only, I realize that this wasn't a normal boy that kissed me. It was Four. It was freaking Tobias Eaton.

And I kissed him.

After moments of driving in his car, I take in the awkward smell of pine that his car oddly smells like. Than, without thinking, I smack his arm while driving.

Hard

"Ow." he complains, wincing.

"What the hell?!" I practically yell.

"What?" He asks.

"Don't play that bull crap, Four! You know what!"

"Sorry!" He screams, "I just needed a distraction!"

"Kissing me was a distraction?"

He angrily rips of his beanie and throws it to the back seat. His hair was a very dark brown that you could see it you looked close enough. It was shortly cut, yet disheveled. Handsome, I suppose. "What was I supposed to do?! I was panicked!" His face was red, and blotchy.

"Why the heck were they even there?" I say, angry.

He scrunches his nose. "I don't know. I think they followed me after I 'ran away'." He shrugs, his eyes not moving from the road, his face staying it's reddish color.

"They knew what I was wearing, so I took of the jacket." He points out, "and the kiss was a distraction, because they know that I'm dating a brunette, not a blonde! I put it together, and know we're safe, alright?"

Silence.

"Plus," he says, breaking the silence, "they didn't see me, and, thankfully, didn't snap any pictures."

I'm slightly angry. Is he embarrassed to be seen with me?

Wait. Of course he is. I'm a nobody. That kiss didn't mean anything. Maybe I liked it, maybe I felt something, but of course he didn't. Because he is a superstar, and he can have anyone he wants. And he wouldn't want me. That would be his girlfriend I didn't know he had. Pain clutches my stomach, but ignore it. Why would I be feeling pain, anyway? I shouldn't be feeling pain.

I look out the window, as the first bits of snow make their appearance, and land by the window, my anger subsiding. He's a good driver, I note. I've never been in the same car as him. Only the same coffee shop room. I guess it's the same thing, only know I am trusting him with my life.

We stop at a red light, and he looks at me, his face no longer it's red color. I look back at his eyes. Oh boy, his eyes. I can feel them pulling me into them. I so desperately want to tune everything out and look in his eyes.

"Look, Tris," he starts. "I'm sorry, I truly am really, dreadfully sorry. I didn't mean to kiss you. I just needed to get away and-"

"It's fine." I snap, a little harsher than I intended.

"Please don't be mad at me. I don't have anyone like you." He pleads.

I ignore him. I feel bad though. I was his stress reliever, his friend, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was this superstars friend. And he didn't know about me just using him for information.

But I realized, I wasn't just using him for info. I started to believe, to tell myself, that we were friends. And maybe we were.

I sigh, and grab the aux cord connected to his radio station, and pull out my phone, connecting the two. I need a distraction. I need music.

"What are you-"

I don't look up from my phone inches from my eyes, illuminating my face. I just reach out my finger tips and lightly press them to his lips to shush him. His soft lips, that I kissed…

My lips tingle again, remembering his kiss, and I try not to wince. He's a good kisser…

That was fake. Fake. Stop being so hung up about it. He probaly got his kissing skills from his million other girlfriends.

I remove my fingers, picking a song I like. The song fills the car, and I lean back into the seat. The lyrics begin.

All I want Is nothing more.

I close my eyes, tapping my fingers on the window.

To hear you knocking at my door

I don't pay attention to Four, or open my eyes to his weird face that he probably shows.

Cause if I could see your face once more

I part my lips, and breath slower, relaxing into the chair some more, sinking out of reality, as the car moved forward, soothing me.

I could die a happy man, i'm sure

I smile, remembering the happy memories this song brought me.

"Tris."

I look at Four, pulling myself out of the deep of the comfortable silence.

"I'm sorry." He breaths in.

"Four." I say, speaking softly. "It's fine. I just overreacted."

"No, you didn't. I was the one who made it worse. I'm sorry."

I smile at his awkwardness. "Were still friends, superstar, whether you like it or not. You can't get rid of me that easily." I am surprised I say this. Coming from my own mouth… it sounds natural. I guess I accepted this a long time ago.

He grins, looking like a cheeky monkey. I swear his looks down at my lips like he want to kiss me again, but I suppose a girl can dream. "Good. C'mon, let's… do something. Hopefully the paparazzi don't realize that this beat up car is mine."

"Oh. Why do you have this car anyway?" I say, drowning the music off.

"Trust me, my babies are at home." He smiles wider, referring to his cars as babies, while rubbing his hand on his chin as if to check his shaving job. "This is just a backup car. You see, no one would've thought that someone as popular and good looking as me would own this piece of crap." I roll my eyes, smiling, because he has a good point.

"Can I ask you something?" He asks.

"Shoot." I say.

"What do you write about? In your notebook and in journalism club, I mean."

I freeze. Darn. I'm gonna have to play this cool so he doesn't think that I use him for his wealth in information.

"In my notebook, well, just stories I make up really," I bite the inside of my cheek because of my lie, feeling guilty, "… and journalism club...Well, at the moment, our papers we've been writing have been about you."

"Me, eh?" He grins again. "What about me?"

"You changing in your house with the window open for all of us to see." I say, thinking back to Christina.

"WHAT?" He yells, certainly surprised.

"It gets great reviews! We don't have any extra paper wasted, either!"

"I only did that once! What the hell!" He looks distressed, and I laugh. "What, Tris? Where you the one who got that information?" He smirks, and I blush, beet red. Now it's his turn to laugh, and I hesitantly push him at first, then more surely.

"Shut up!" I say.

"How were my abs?"

I stick my tongue out at him. "You remind me of my annoying brother."

"You think if me as a brother?" He asks.

"No." I say, a bit confused by the question "Just that you're immature like him."

"Ok, good." What does that mean? "And hey, you can be immature to, you know."

"Can't deny." I say, frowning. I guess we learned more about each other more than we thought.

"Uh.. Tris?" He says after a while.

"Yea?"

"Where am I going?"

"I don't know." I say. We were too busy taking that we didn't even realize that we were driving still.

"Give me your address, I'll drive you home, I guess." He says.

I give it to him, although I just want to talk to him some more. I feel like I got to know him better today than any other day. Sadly, we arrive at my house before you know it.

"Nice house." He says. I bet you it's not the house that he is used to. Probably nothing like it, with him and his big mansions, but a home was a home. And he actually seemed genuinely happy, like he liked my house.

"Thanks. I guess I'll see you next Tuesday?" I ask.

"Or earlier." He winks at me. I roll my eyes.

"Bye, Four."

"By, Tris."

I walk into my house, and don't bother to see if anyone is home or not. I just go to my room, a feeling I can't identify creeping up my back. I smile, and jump onto my bed, not wanting to move, just to lie here and let the feeling of happiness overpopulate me, until eventually, I fall asleep with one thought on my mind:

Tobias Eaton and I were friends.

And it didn't matter what anyone thought.

SO THEY KISSED! Well, sorta =)

I updated because I am bored and it's the middle of my spring break! It's soon to end *sadness* the break I mean, not this story! I might even update again today and tomorrow =) *zips lips* im not promising anything though

Do you guys think I am going to fast? Please tell me!

Anyway, please review!

~Sky