Thank you to Erin for editing! Zero clue why I can update this some days and not others. Sorry about that!
My hand stays in Eric's, my fingers locked between his as we return to Dauntless.
The woods feel too dark as we walk. Though the pathway is worn, it would be easy to venture off, and the little moonlight doesn't make it any easier. I stay right beside Eric, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him looking at me.
His expression is smug.
The smirk on his face compliments the way his hair isn't as perfect as it was before, and it matches the way my cheeks feel like they are on fire. When his gaze drops to my mouth again, I'm tempted to ask him to wait, if only so we can have a few more minutes alone. I know once we return to Clyde's, we won't be alone for a second.
Pleased with the guilty feeling of having kissed him, I slow down, pulling his hand toward mine.
"What? Do you want to stop?" he asks, glancing over at the looming compound. "I thought we'd go back to the party before anyone notices we're gone. Then I'll take you home."
"Before we go back, I just…" I hesitate to say anything aloud, knowing this could be as temporary as the decorations Rylan has chosen. "I'm really happy it was you. I'm glad you were the one who showed up. I know the thing in Candor is big…. But, if nothing else, you were the first person to give me a chance here, even if you did because you're trying to clear your name."
Eric's eyes narrow, but he keeps listening.
"And you are the first person I've willingly kissed. So, thank you for that. And not rubbing oil on me or telling me about the evils of modern medicine." I smile up at him, hopeful he understands, and his smirk stays in place. "And sorry about your hair. You might want to fix it before we go inside."
Eric leans in, and widens his eyes in mockery. "Everly…"
"Can I see your apartment? Where do you live?" I ask, deciding it's now or never. "Is it big?"
"Fuck, if this trial doesn't go my way, I'll kill Jeanine myself." Eric's mouth crashes into mine. I would yelp, but I'm too busy enjoying the way it feels. His hands grasp hold of my face, harder than before, and he kisses me with a desperation I'll never forget. "You're welcome. I think. And I'll show you whatever you want."
"Yeah, so…we should…" I don't finish my sentence. I kiss him back, pressing my lips harder, until the whimper catches in my throat and his hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck. It stays there, keeping me against him, until he sighs. "We should go back in. I didn't even say hi to Rylan. Or Christina."
"Me, either."
Eric's answer is muttered as he pulls away. I loathe the disconnect, but I try to remind myself that I barely know him, and he's rightfully restrained. I also don't know what's going to happen in Candor, and my confession is probably the most juvenile thing he's ever heard.
He doesn't seem to think so.
Eric nods, and his hand finds mine. "We'll stay for an hour. Then, I'll show you where I live."
"Okay." My agreement is content with this, especially when he tightness his fingers through mine.
We resume walking, as close together as we can. I enjoy the way it's much nicer to hold his hand without a death grip, or with anyone watching us. I'm so focused that I almost miss the guards near the entryway, and a returning patrol group led by Harrison, both looking triumphant.
"Alright, so where did you go? And don't you dare say outside."
Rylan, more drunk than tipsy off his bright pink drink, glares at Eric and me.
"You missed the gift exchange. And the second gift exchange. And the nachos." He continues, counting on his fingers with a very unimpressed stare. "And you missed Jeremy, almost throwing up when someone let a skunk inside."
"Which one these pressing events are you most upset we weren't here for?" Eric asks. His tone is aggressively indifferent, especially when someone sniggers in the background. "The nachos? Or the skunk?"
"Obviously the skunk. And honestly, did you even bring a gift?" Rylan demands. "Because you owe Everly one."
"Shit." Eric looks at me, and I look up at him. Guilt flashes across his face, but it's flashing on mine, too.
"I didn't bring you one, either. It completely slipped my mind after hearing I might get murdered," I counter. "Sorry."
"Don't be. I'll give you a gift later," Eric replies, looking right at me. "Or now, if you want to leave."
"You're not leaving. You just got back from wherever you were." Rylan waves the fizzy drink at us, nearly knocking Karl in the face as he tries to slip past. "Man, what is in this? My head feels really heavy."
"Sounds like you should drink some water," Eric suggests. "We're going to say hi to Jason, and we'll be back to check on you."
"Okay, but the nachos are pink. The cheese is, too. You should check those out." Rylan smiles, his anger from earlier gone, and blows us both a kiss. "By the way, you your hair is a mess. Both of you. You guys aren't slick. While I'm thrilled my plan worked, I'm not thrilled I wasn't there to witness it."
"I think that's probably enough for you." Eric carefully takes the glass from Rylan, then coaxes him towards an equally drunk Christina. "Go find your girlfriend."
"Will do, Captain." Rylan salutes a cherub, then stumbles over to Christina who shrieks with joy that she's just opened his card. "Babe, guess what? Eric and Everly are getting married. No, not right now. Tomorrow."
"Do you want to stay or…." Eric jerks his head toward the exit. "We can go."
"Forget staying an hour. We should go."
Clyde's is absolutely jam packed with people. Every spare inch has someone standing or sitting, and most are playing the games Rylan has brought. Some are playing spin the bottle, others are trying to pin a cloud under a baby with wings, and others are stacking red blocks to make a tower while someone else tries to move them. His party is a clear hit. At one end, someone picks music to play, and at another, the line to get in creeps outside the bar doors.
Not long ago, I longed for nothing more than to be here.
Standing inside by Eric, while people greet the both of us. A few nod at me, most smile knowingly, and almost all seem impressed that he's still here. While I say hello to someone from my initiation class, a girl I don't know invites us to the after party, and Eric politely declines. He turns to me, and his stare is pleased when I look up at him.
"Do you promise I can see your apartment?" Sucked right into the world of Eric, I don't even pretend I'm not interested. "If we leave now?"
"I promise."
Pragmatic as ever, Eric waits until he's sure Rylan is fine with Christina. He scans the crowd for Jason, and when he can't find him, he grabs Karl and asks if he can tell Jason we're heading out.
"Yeah, sure man. Anything you need!" Karl flashes him a bright smile, pleased to be asked to do Eric a favor. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Right. Thanks." Eric nudges me with his elbow, and I take this as our cue to leave. "Follow me."
"Okay."
Delirious with excitement over seeing where he lives, I try to keep up with him. At some point, we are separated by a wall of people heading toward the music. Eric glances back, then extends his hand for me to talk hold of. Once I know I won't lose him, we leave Clyde's as quickly as we showed up. The line to get in is even longer now, and at the very end is Harrison.
When he sees us, he heads straight to Eric.
"You're leaving already? With…Everly?" His stare finds mine, and there's very real concern all over it. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"
"No, we don't." Eric's answer is flat, but polite. "Everything good on your end? Nothing to report tonight?"
"Nothing. It was a promising patrol. Everything is quiet. It probably won't last, but I can handle it." Harrison looks only at Eric, but occasionally, he sneaks a peek in my direction. "You're sure you don't want to stick around?"
When I smile at him, I'm hit with the faintest memory of seeing him next to my mother. I have the feeling that I should know him from outside of Dauntless, but I can't place my finger on why.
"I'm sure." Eric answer with a defiant, oddly annoyed snap at Harrison. "Have a good night."
"You too."
Harrison forces a tight-lipped grin as we leave. I glance back once not really knowing what his worry is, or why he'd care that we aren't staying. His eyes find mine, green and dark, and his smile is not at all reassuring. He looks like he's about to pull me aside and give me a lecture on sneaking out with boys after dark, or maybe try to ground me.
He doesn't get the chance.
Eric pulls me away from Clyde's, into the hallway, and towards his apartment.
It is big.
It's much larger than my own apartment, and decorated in a style I wouldn't have guessed Eric would like. While everything is very clean and organized, it's also much nicer than any furniture I've ever had. It looks like someone else lives here; someone who spent time picking out things from a high-end perspective, not someone who routinely deals with arguments with his fists.
I stand in the middle of a sunken living room, taking in the large screen on the wall, the books on the shelves, the couch and blanket, and the doors leading elsewhere. His apartment is darker than mine, but inviting. I can imagine myself sitting on the couch with him, but I can also imagine him glaring at whoever messed up his coffee table.
"Well?"
When I turn, he's observing me intently. His gaze is relaxed now, but focused on me. From his kitchen, he grabs two glasses, and a bottle of something I don't recognize. The label is from Amity, but it's a dark blue with a tree drawn beneath the words.
"It's really nice. Did you pick everything out?" A thousand questions swirl through my mind as I try to picture Eric ordering furniture. "Do all Leader's apartments look like this?"
"No. Rylan's looks like he's opening a Rylan themed store inside it. Jason's is filled with video games. Most of this was sent by Jeanine." Eric opens the bottle with ease and pours it into the glasses. "She said the furniture was respectable."
"It is. I think."
I have no clue.
In Amity, everything was handmade and passed down. My dresser was once my neighbors, and my nightstands were made by Landon's dad. I'd never purchased anything new, and if I had, I would have been gently reminded I could have just asked around for what I needed.
But Eric's apartment is like a whole new world, one where I feel like I don't entirely belong.
"Here, I thought you might like this. It came with the last delivery. Your brother made it." Eric walks the glasses over, and I'm surprised to see them generously filled. "He said to tell you hello."
"Do you know him?" I ask, surprised to hear Forrest would tell Eric anything. "Did he drop it off for you?"
"I've seen him enough to know who he is. He asks about you from time to time. I'm not always there when the deliveries arrive, but this time I was." His head tilts when I take the glass. "He always mentions how proud of you he is."
"He was going to leave, too." I confess, taking way too large of a sip. The wine is sweeter than I'm anticipating, but good. "He said he only stayed to help our parents because he felt guilty."
"Guilt seems to be the root of a lot of decisions." Eric's answer is quiet but pointed. He clinks his glass against mine, and his lips turn up. "Cheers, Everly."
"Cheers."
My glass hits his with a satisfying sound. I swallow another sip, this one also more than I mean to, and it's not long before I feel pleasantly lightheaded. At some point, I am sitting on Eric's couch, still drinking whatever Forrest has made, while Eric is telling me about his initiation with Rylan and Jason. By the time I finish the drink, I smile drunkenly at him, but it's not just the wine. I recognize every second of the way my limbs now feel loose and warm, and my chest tightens when I look at Eric. I recognize the way he smiles at me, no longer crooked or forced, but genuine.
Loopy.
Higher than a kite.
"What happens now? Are we still friends even though I kissed you?" In my head, words are making sense. My thoughts are logical and practical. I need to know if he'll still want to have dinner sometimes, or if he's going along with this purely because he needs another person to show Jack Kang that he's changed. "Or no? Are we not friends?"
"What?" He laughs, clumsily setting his glass down. His movements are graceless, and he's too strong as he sends the glass flying. "Shit."
"Do you want to stay friends, Eric?"
I have no clue if I'm saying actual words.
Forrest's wine, laced with a very generous dose of peace serum, has completely taken over my brain. I lean over Eric so I can look at him, and his eyes widen. He doesn't push me away like he did the girl who touched him. He waits patiently as I reach for his shirt, pulling the collar aside to look at his throat.
"Did that hurt?" My fingers press over warm skin, counting each block. "Why did you get it there?"
"No, it didn't. All Leaders have the same tattoo," Eric answers, tilting his head back for a moment. "It felt fine. Annoying, but fine."
"Would you get any more?" My fingers trail over his skin, trying to figure out how it didn't hurt to tattoo his throat. "Here?"
I touch his collarbone, and his head falls forward.
"You're really pretty." His answer is murmured as he hits me in the face attempting to move the hair out of my eyes. His action would be romantic, except he sits up, realizing he's not totally in control of what he's doing. "Everly…"
His head hits mine with the force of a thousand initiates.
"Oh, fuck." I wince, but the pain is gone when his hands take hold of my face.
"Shit!" He blurts out. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. It's the wine. It's…Forrest…."
"I think you should stay here tonight," Eric forcefully holds onto me, yanking me forward, right onto his lap. "I think you should spend the night. Tomorrow, too. Maybe the next day."
Eric's brain, also soaked with Forrest's concoction, makes a few decisions for him. One is to pull me closer, leaving me awkwardly straddling him. The other is to lean in until his nose touches mine, and very quietly ask if I'm sure I'm alright.
"Everly?"
"Yeah?" My answer is half groaned because his hands leave my face and move to my back.
One takes hold of the back of my head, the other digs into the fabric of my dress. His lips touch mine, and it's the sweetest, most frantic kiss of my life. I'm left gasping for air when he doesn't stop. He breaks away only to kiss my throat. His teeth bite at my skin, and when I grasp onto the back of his head, he returns to my mouth. For what feels like hours, he kisses me slowly, forcefully, then impatiently when I wiggle to keep my balance.
Time loses all meaning as he carefully works the shoulder of my dress down. It slows even further when my fingers clumsily unbutton his shirt, and it stops all together when he pulls it over his head. His eyes find mine, and his pupils are as wide and dark as can be. They are lusty and pleased as he pulls the dress over my head, and for the fisrt time in my life, I think I might actually die.
It happens when he kisses me again, right before he suggests we go to bed.
I awake to a headache like nothing I've ever felt before.
My eyes open to darkness. Black sheets, a dark navy comforter, and Eric's arm thrown over me. The labyrinth on his forearm is easy to make out, and so is the even, deep breathing behind me. I shut my eyes with a groan, then open them when he shifts closer.
I'm dressed, not in my clothes from last night, but his shirt. My hair is stuck between us, his head is bent over mine, and his leg rests just over my own. In the dark, he's warm and solid, comforting in a way I've never felt before. Every so often, he sighs. His fingers flex, and his bare chest touches my back when he moves.
I open my eyes wider, careful not to wake him.
"Holy…"
I glance down at his hands, still bearing the lingering bruise and curled over mine, and try to remember what happened. There was a moment where I was sitting on him, sozzled from whatever Forrest had given him, and a moment where I tried to undress him. I can vaguely remember him telling me I was pretty before seeing my pink dress float to the floor.
I screw my eyes shut, trying to remember more. I might have dreamt it, but I swore he carried me into his room. After he hit my head on the door frame, he dumped me onto his bed before climbing over me. I think his phone rang, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up beside him, unable to remember my own apartment number.
"Eric?"
I turn to face him, and it's harder than I would think. He's dead asleep, his eyes shut and his breathing is even and deep. He exhales heavily when I work my way free from his grasp, and I'm able to climb out of his bed without waking him. In the dark, it's hard to see where anything is, but I manage to find a door that leads to his bathroom. The lights are blinding and especially unflattering. When I catch a glimpse in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself.
"What the…"
My hair is destroyed. It sticks up in the back, while it's tangled in multiple spots. Eric's shirt is too large, and where it slips down to reveal my neck and shoulder, the skin is bright pink. There are marks on every free inch of skin, and what appears to be a bruise. There's another bruise on my forehead. My lips feel raw. When I tilt my head to the side, the room slides along with it, and the floor sways beneath my feet.
I make a silent vow to never drink anything with alcohol or peace serum in it again. Luck is upon me when I see a glass on his countertop, and hope that some water will help.
This bathroom is twice the size of mine, and rather opulent. I like the black cabinets beneath the sinks, and the mirrors are pristine. I gingerly open a cabinet to find something to take for my head, and after a quick perusal of his personal items, find what I'm looking for. I swallow two of the pain killers with a wince, then turn on the sink and fill a cup with water.
I try to ignore the way my heart is beating out of uncertainty. There's no way to predict how Eric will react, nor can I even remember what happened. It's likely everything happened, or nothing. It's likely he'll remember, since he has a higher tolerance than I do, but the peace serum caught both of us off guard. I could wring Forrest's neck for that little stunt, especially because the peace serum hangover is almost worse than anything.
It doesn't leave you sick or dehydrated. It leaves you wanting to feel the warm, fizzing rush of happiness it creates. It leaves you wanting to feel that good, or even better. For days, I will think of nothing but Eric's mouth on mine, the way he felt beneath me, and the sensation of his teeth sinking into my skin. My entire being will beg to experience that again—even if my brain knows it can't or won't happen. Peace serum leaves you feeling a little aware of the real world, and offers the sweet, hazy daze of a world where everything feels like a dream.
It's why most in Amity don't mind taking it.
I take a slow sip of water, close my eyes at how good it tastes, and when I open them, Eric walks into the bathroom. He looks so unlike himself that I almost can't believe it's him; his hair is a disaster, his eyes are glassy, and his look of confusion mirrors my own. He rubs his face as he walks, and his boxers are pulled up too high on one side.
When he looks in the mirror, he comes to a halt, and his eyes narrow in surprise.
"Everly?"
"Um, hi, Eric. How are you feeling?" I finish my water, and it's impossible to miss the now perplexed look on his face. "Did you sleep well?"
"Did you….did we…." He pauses to wet his lips. His mind whirls as he tries to connect dots that don't exist, and it's very clear he remembers about as much as I do. "Did you stay the night?"
"I did. Your bed is nice," I blink at the bright lights, and his concentrated stare. "Thank you for letting me borrow your shirt. I didn't see my dress anywhere."
"I"ll….I can find it. Um…did you… are you…okay?"
He stumbles over his words. It's unlike him to be so unsure of what he's saying. Every speech I've heard has been an elegant display of intelligence, but right now, he looks bewildered.
"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" He walks closer to me, until he can examine my head. "Did you fall?"
"You didn't hurt me." I smile up at him, and we both know neither of us remember. "I'm fine. I think I hit my head on the door frame. I woke up next to you, but I don't remember much else. I just…have a really bad headache from…the wine."
My confession makes him relax.
His shoulders lower, and his nod is relieved. "Okay. I don't remember anything after we started drinking."
"You should ask Forrest what he put in the wine. It probably had something in it that…was stronger than you'd expect." I keep staring at him, and it hits me that I know how warm he is. I know what it's like to fall asleep beside him, and I now know what he looks like when he's completely relaxed. "Do you want me to leave you alone? I can go home. I just have to find my keycard."
"Let me make you something to eat. Otherwise, you're going to feel even worse later." He blinks, reaching toward me carefully. One hand touches my neck, and his fingers press over the marks he's left behind. "Did you take something? Are you sick?"
"It's just a headache. But…I'm really fine. I had a good time," I answer as brightly as I can. "At least from what I remember."
"Uh…good." Eric nods again. He pulls his hand back, and his gaze is glued to me. It travels all over my face, stopping once we make eye contact. "I'm glad."
"I'll give you a second."
I turn to put the glass back on the sink and catch sight of our reflections. He stares at me in the mirror, and when I smile, he does, too.
I don't move.
I stay there, until I've memorized the way he looks, and only then do I slink back to his room to search for my clothes.
"So, do you still think the odds would be one in five billion?"
I walk home with Eric, dressed in his shirt and boxers. I never did find my dress, and neither did he. He told me he'd lend me some shorts, then muttered he'd find my clothes and bring them by. Whatever happened last night left him out of sorts, and it was hard to miss the way he kept looking at me. Out of the corner of his eye, when he thought I wasn't looking, sometimes like he'd messed up, but other times like he'd won the most points he could.
Now, he presses his lips together to keep from smirking. While I sat and drank the coffee he made, he took a shower. He emerged clean shaven, fresh faced, and dressed in his uniform. He walked me home looking like I'd emerged from beneath a bridge over a swamp, but he didn't say anything. His hand occasionally touched my lower back, and his restraint came from knowing I was a little queasy and not wearing shoes.
"Yeah, I'd definitely say one in five billion. I would never have imagined any of this happening," he answers. "Maybe more like one in five trillion."
"Oh, so my odds are worse," I laugh. "Thanks, Eric."
"No problem." His hand touches mine as we reach my floor. He hesitates to hold on as someone passes by, and the lady gives us both a funny look. "I have to go into the office. I was supposed to be there hours ago. Will you be alright?"
"I'm fine. I feel really good. Thanks for breakfast. Do you want me to bring you anything? Maybe lunch?" I look up at him, pausing when he shakes his head. "Eric?"
"I'm... good. I'll be in meetings until late afternoon. Thank you, though." He stops when we reach my apartment door. The look on his face tells me he's lying; he might be busy, but there's something else stopping him from accepting my offer. "Text me if you need anything. I'll uh, confirm our return trip to Amity."
"Oh, right."
The wind goes right out of my sails.
Dressed in cheerless duty and self-control, Eric returns to the version I first met. He steps back from me, his shoulders rising and his head cocking to the side, and he takes in my disheveled appearance. His own clothes, the way my hair is falling out of the bun I've pulled it in, and the contrast in our heights. He looks down at me like he's never going to see me again, and nods his goodbye.
"Have a good day, Everly."
"Bye, Eric."
He leaves with a lingering look in my direction. He glances back to make sure I'm inside, then shuts his eyes for a moment. I watch the stress return, and I know exactly what he's feeling.
Thanks to the peace serum, last night was blissful. Now that it's over, the real world is much less appealing, and he's feeling every second of it.
I head inside my apartment, and though I know things will be fine, I can't help but have the nagging feeling I won't see him for a while.
In the end, not much else happens.
Eric and I return to Amity on a chilly, grey day. I wear the matching jacket to his, and he wears a look of careful distance that hints he's thought long and hard about our night together. I still don't remember all the details, and no matter how hard I tried, nothing helped. Christina tried to get it out of me. She coaxed, begged, and pleaded. Eric must have told Rylan what he remembered, which feels like more than I did. Rylan then told Christina, and she came straight to me to hear every salacious detail.
There weren't many.
While everyone was fixated on if we'd slept together, literally or figuratively, I could only recall bits and pieces. The night after my stay at Eric's, I dreamt of him kissing me in his bed, but I had no way of knowing if it was real or not. I was left just as lost as she was, and the only concrete proof I had were the marks on my neck, and the bruise on my forehead.
And while we went to Amity together, the air full of a tension I couldn't quite put my finger on, we were accompanied by others. Jason and Karl, Jeremy and Peter, even Harrison. I walked in the middle of everyone, a blur of black in a faction of color, and unceremoniously met with Johanna once more. Her agreement with Dauntless stood; she wasn't going back on her word, but she did politely tell me Forrest would no longer be dropping off his wine there because it was laced with too high of a dose of peace serum, and he'd gotten a slew of complaints. A few soldiers wandered into the fields both high and drunk, and Johanna spent much too long making sure they were alright.
In the barn, while Eric and Jason stood in front of the horses, Johanna noticed my unease. She asked if I was alright, holding onto my arm until I answered.
I was.
I was fine.
The sting of knowing I had been gifted a version of Eric no one else knew existed had lessened. He didn't return my dress, but I didn't return his boxers. We both knew, deep down, that whatever happened between us existed in a universe of its own. I'd never truly know, and neither would he. And the danger of being anything –friends, enemies, maybe one day partners, or even lovers –was never more apparent than as time went on.
Despite Rylan's best efforts, Eric remained untouchable.
Johanna rattled off a list of questions in my ear, and while I nodded and answered what I could, I watched Eric and Jason. They spoke quietly, and out of nowhere, Eric reached for the horse. He stroked his mane, frowning when Jason tried to make him laugh, and his stare would find mine. He was making sure I followed through with helping him, and I did. I had no reason not to, and if anything, I wanted to make sure my family stayed safe.
Our agreement to be friends fizzled as it became clear that Eric was on thin ice as his time in Candor neared. He resumed the edginess that was a comfort to him, and he took to snapping and snarling at anyone around him.
By the time a week had passed, the sting of Eric was the lingering bruise on my neck, and the print of his incisors on my throat.
I saw him everywhere and nowhere. I went back to work with Four, who was no longer sick, and Eric showed up only to watch the final Fear Landscapes. He kept his distance. He stood with Max, nodding blandly as someone easily leapt off a building, and looking bored when someone was afraid of the dark. Their fears served him no purpose, but before he left, he walked over to Four and me, and informed us he was pleased with the class.
"Wonderful." Four answered, sounding sarcastic as ever. "Good to know."
Eric said nothing in response.
He looked at me, attempting something akin to a smile, then purposely walked by me so his hand hit mine.
That hurt more than anything.
I wished he'd stay, wished he'd say something else, hell, I wish he'd yell or pick a fight purely so I could talk to him. But he stormed off into the training room, and I didn't see him until the initiation was over. He welcomed the new members the same way he'd welcomed us all: as coldly as he could. He stared down the initiates who feared him, smirked at the ones dumb enough to act like they didn't, and shook my hand like we hadn't kissed in the woods outside of Dauntless.
"You did good," he told me, gripping my hand tightly. "I hope you're proud of yourself."
"I am. Thank you." I held his hand even tighter. "Thanks for your help, Eric."
I expected him to look away. He hadn't helped, not like one would assume. Four eventually had returned to class, but Jason had worked every day until he came back. Eric dropped by a few times, but it was never more than to check on everyone and occasionally glare in my direction after he had promised to help me personally.
"Everly…" Eric started to say my name, but he was interrupted by Harrison. "What?"
"The orders just came." Harrison stops beside him, dressed in plaid. "It's a summons from Jack. They'd like to speak with Everly. Presumably because of her involvement in Amity."
"Right." Eric shuts his eyes, and the regret is plain as day. He winces, then catches himself with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to be part of this. They're going to question you like everyone else."
"It's alright." I ignore the way Harrison shifts his weight, and even Eric looks displeased. "Do you know what they're going to ask? Or how I can prepare?"
Eric and Harrison are silent.
Harrison eventually clears his throat, then shoots Eric a dirty look. They must have been expecting this, because Harrison looks pissed off when Eric shrugs and looks over me. "You owe her. This is…if you fuck this up with Everly, I'll see to it myself that you're executed."
"I already told you –" Eric snaps, cut off by Harrison shaking his head and hissing that he did this. "No, you're not going to pin this on me. You promised me she'd be left out of it. I was up front that involving her to secure Amity meant he'd want her there, too. I've learned that no one is getting out of this unscathed. You promised Jack wouldn't ask for her, yet here he is, asking for her to show up.."
"Is it a character reference? Am I being asked who you really are?" I step between them, and while Harrison moves back, my hand finds Eric's.
Eric's fingers graze mine, stilling as Harrison mutters an apology to me.
"Everly, I am partially at fault. Jack originally said he didn't need anyone else there, but he's now decided you need to be questioned. It could be in Eric's favor, or it could be because Jack doesn't trust us. We won't know until we're there." Harrison pauses. "There's a good chance he's simply making it look official."
"Right." I agree, remembering Eric say that anything to do with him solidified my involvement. "I can do it. I helped you with Amity, you helped me with the class and dinner. There's nothing else to say."
"Alright. Just…prepare for them to ask you more. Prepare for them to give you the truth serum. They're looking for evidence that Eric is not who Jeanine says he is. You'll work in his favor, so long as they don't think he put you up to it." Harrison answers. "Realistically, they'll ask how you know him, what he's asked you to do, and if you did it."
"Got it."
I go to move my hand away, but Eric holds on tighter.
"I have to go find Max. If they summon anyone else, I'll make sure to let you know." Harrison says goodbye, winding his way through the crowd. "Congrats on the class, Everly."
"Thank you." I answer, but my attention is on Eric.
It's been an indescribable amount of time since I've really spoken to him, and the weariness is all over his face. It lessens when I smile up at him, and he swallows thickly.
"I still have your dress." He looks right at me, his grey eyes locked on mine. "I put it in the closet. I'll bring it by soon."
"I can come get it," I offer, equally as quiet. Around us, the new members of Dauntless press in on all sides. "I have some time now."
"Right."
"Eric, did you ever remember what happened? Did it ever…" I trail off, not knowing how to phrase my question. "It doesn't matter. I was just wondering if you knew. I still don't remember everything."
Eric looks at me, his expression stoic as ever, and he nods.
"I do."
He doesn't elaborate any further.
He pulls his hand away, the storms off to remind everyone exactly who is in charge.
Candor is like another world in itself.
The buildings are tall and ornate, rising high into the sky. White columns frame the entrances, along with large paned windows, flat, wide stairs, and an air of seriousness that's uncomfortable. The inside of the building I'm led to is white, black, and silver. The receptionist in the front directed us toward a large room where the trial is being held, and her own black dress was lined with a white collar. She greeted us with surprising empathy; her posture told me she knew today was important, and when her gaze landed on me, I knew she was nervous for all of us.
I followed everyone silently, having been relegated to the back with Harrison. For once, he stays nearby, whispering advice as we walk.
"It's going to be easy, but not enjoyable. He's going to give you Truth Serum. You'll have no choice but to answer. If you resist, it'll hurt. If you tell the truth, you won't feel a thing." Much like Eric, he speaks evenly, letting little emotion show. "If you resist, they'll know you're lying or avoiding a question."
"What are they going to ask me?"
I look around, trying to figure out why my appearance would hold any more weight than the others. Ahead, Jason and Rylan walk with Max. All are dressed in their uniforms, professional as ever. Jason and Rylan have their hair pulled back, their uniforms are clean, and their boots are laced properly. Next to them, Tori and Lauren walk with soldiers from Dauntless. Four walks to the side, looking like he can't decide if he's enjoying today, or loathing being forced out of Dauntless.
It appears anyone Eric has worked with is here, including me.
"The others are here because they know his work. You know him personally. I spoke to Jack this morning. They're going to ask you what he's like outside of being a Leader." Harrison pauses as we walk down the stairs and into a court room. "I know you don't...it wasn't a whole relationship, but Ashley will be called in from Erudite. You'll hopefully balance out whatever she says. There's a chance she'll throw him under the bus out of spite. You'll have the chance to refute that."
"Got it." I take the steps two at a time, trying to recognize as many faces as I can.
Jack stands in the middle of a large circular room, surrounded by Marcus, Andrew, and a woman I don't know. Next to him is a woman dressed in blue, Johanna, Jerry, and Carole. Tori leaves Lauren to join them, and directly behind Jack, is a section of spectators. A wall of black fills several of the seats but others are filled with blue. A man hurries his way to the front row, and when he slides into the seat, the lady next to him frowns. I recognize her from the Market, and I can only guess he's Eric's father.
"They'll talk to those who work with him first. If they do call you, it won't be for a while."
"Okay." I reach for his arm as I miss a step.
Having no clue what this trial would entail, I dressed nicely, but not in my uniform. If I was being questioned over my personal time with Eric, I wasn't going to show up dressed as a trainer. I chose a black dress, one less structured and fitted in ways only someone from Amity would appreciate, and left my hair down. I knew I needed to appeal to the human side of the court, and the Dauntless uniform wouldn't do that.
"Is it starting soon?" I ask, searching the room for Eric. Harrison touches my hand as we near the final step, and he leaves it there. "Where is Eric?"
"He'll be here. He had to get Jeanine inside the building before she could figure out what is going on."
As if on cue, the doors on the other side of the building open, and in walks Jeanine. Her expression hints she's confused as to why she's here, but also dismayed by the interruption of her day. She steps a few steps inside, and when she looks around, I witness the exact moment she realizes what's going on.
Eric walks in behind her, and the doors shut with a bang.
"How long have you known Mr. Coulter? It appears you and Eric go way back."
The first question is a doozy.
Seated in a hard chair, hidden safely behind a platform, my neck burns where Jack Kang did the first injection. He was quick and polite. He warned me it would sting, but it would eventually stop unless I lied. The Truth Serum burned as it spilled through my veins, and so did the pressing stares of everyone around me. I gave into the feeling, having no other choice, and the questioning began a few minutes later.
The first half of the trial was eye opening.
Eric's work was brought to light in a fascinating manner. Dressed in black, he was brought before everyone to give his own statement. I listened while he explained what he had been asked to do, how he was paid for his work, at what point he realized what was happening, and what would happen if he were to continue. About three minutes in, Jeanine arose from her chair, hissed that this was unnecessary, and she'd deal with Eric later. She tried to leave after downplaying her involvement, but Jason shoved her back to her seat, and when she protested, she was handcuffed to the chair and read a list of formal charges.
She protested once more. Jason and Rylan stood by her, while Marcus blocked one door, and Jerry blocked another.
The trial continued, and each minute was sharper than the next.
Over the stark retelling of the blood Eric was responsible for spilling, everyone listened silently. His story wasn't anything new but it wasn't one I'd heard before. I learned it stemmed from a deal he was offered via his mother: when he was seventeen, Jeanine graciously promised him a position in Dauntless if he'd carry out her agenda. There were dozens of strings attached, and enough hidden agendas to make it hard to untangle what she really wanted, but the appeal was there. To Eric, her offer was promising. The work was easy, and the reward was high. He was given a year to prepare, and when he eventually chose Dauntless, he showed up not as a brainiac from Erudite, but as a fit, well-muscled, overly confident jerk, who knew no one could defeat him. It wouldn't matter even if they did. His fate was already in place, and the initiation was a mere formality.
His path toward becoming a Leader began the minute he stepped foot in Dauntless. He knew he couldn't fail, and that was all the ammunition he needed. He fought his way through, manipulating those around him, and later forming an alliance with Jason and Rylan. He was crowned a Leader the very day the initiation ended. He immediately promoted his friends to join him. A casual, then not so casual agreement emerged, and all three began helping Jeanine under the guise of protecting the factions. And while they fell into the job in a way no others would have been offered, they did fulfil their obligations. The three of them proved to be above adequate at their jobs, and Jeanine's orders were carefully woven into their work without much notice.
By the time a pale and expressionless Eric explained that they all realized Jeanine would place the blame on them if the work ever got out, I noticed most seemed to agree with Eric. No one was immune to the offer of a better life, though several blanched when he described just who exactly he'd been instructed to hunt down. He went on to explain stopping the work was impossible: Jeanine had the means not to prosecute just him, but also Jason, Rylan, Harrison, Tori, and Max. She could take them down by claiming she had no involvement, since they had done all the work.
Eventually, Dauntless agreed to cut ties with Jeanine, but fearing retaliation, prepared to take her down to save everyone else.
Toward the end of the morning, Eric's personal life was mentioned, implying he had little time for others. This both worked in his favor and against him; Ashley was brought forth to admit that he worked endlessly, and their relationship ended when he couldn't make time for her, and I was brought forth to show that once he stopped working for Jeanine, his views on almost everything had changed.
Total control was no longer his ultimate goal, and it was assumed he'd still retain his position as a Leader in Dauntless.
"Miss Carlen? Again, can you tell us how long you have known Eric?"
"A while. I used to see him in Amity. I've known him better since choosing Dauntless. So, a few years now." My answer is painless. "I was maybe sixteen when I first knew of him."
"And how long ago did you begin your friendship with him?" Jack asks. His stare is friendly, but stern. "I was told you two spent some time together for personal reasons."
"A few months ago. He was…" I pause, and when I look at Jack, he nods encouragingly. "He was my Valentine. We went to dinner, had coffee, lunches. We went to the Night Market together."
"Good. And did he ever tell you about his work?"
"Sometimes." I answer, disliking the wave of pain that hits my head. I guess my answer isn't the truth, so I shake my head and try again. "He wasn't specific, but he was clear that he was trying to get away from his old work. He didn't want to participate anymore. He warned me that if I was associated with him, it might not end well in my favor. But he made it known that he was looking out for the factions, and taking great pains to make sure they would be safe if Dauntless no longer partnered with Erudite."
The pain subsides.
"Did he ever show you what he'd worked on?"
"No."
"And did he ever try to make you think he'd been misled in what he was doing? Eric has always been given direct, precise orders from a prior arrangement. Did he reveal this to you?" Jack asks. "Was there a chance you saw one of his emails or agendas?"
"No. He told me he knew what he was doing for Jeanine, but he also knew he was being used." My neck itches when I answer. Across the room, Harrison nods encouragingly, while Jason and Rylan watch intently. "He made it clear he didn't agree with Jeanine."
"Thank you. Now, on a –"
"I'm sorry, but you're taking the word of this random girl? Did you pull her straight from Amity and promise her a better life if she agreed to talk on Eric's behalf?" Jeanine's frosty interruption makes even Jack startle.
"You want to prosecute me to save a rogue Leader? Go right ahead. His work has his signature on every page, and he's fully responsible for his actions. But by all means, parade your defendants to show what a morally changed man he is. Everly has been in Dauntless for a year. What she's telling you is common knowledge. You could pull any member of the faction and ask them the same questions to which you'll get the same answers." Jeanine looks right at me, and her smile is delighted. "Have her tell you something none of us know. Even Ashley could admit Eric wasn't always enthused over the work he was given. But this…Everly…is no one to him."
The room is silent.
It takes Jack a moment to compose himself, then he looks at me, and nods his head slightly. "She makes a valid point. You are new to Dauntless, and though helpful, your insight into Eric could be considered vague. Are you able to tell us something not many would know?"
I look over at Eric, sitting at a table with Max. His stare is cold as it finds mine, but when I search his face, I know he has no choice but to act like this doesn't bother him. I stare at his perfectly combed hair, his grey eyes, and the way his head tilts before he averts his stare.
I have spent some time with Eric, but Jeanine doesn't know that.
Neither does anyone else in this room.
"His sheets are black," I answer evenly. Eric's stare jerks to mine, and his eyes widen ever so slightly. "His comforter is blue. He sleeps on his side, and when he's not awake, he doesn't look so pissed off."
Someone gasps.
It's mixed with a muffled giggle, and a faint fury that I assume is coming from Ashley.
"His apartment is very clean. Jeanine picked out his furniture, I guess as part of his deal with her. He makes a good cup of coffee, and he can cook. And his shirts don't fit me, but the two that I have make great shirts to sleep in." I continue, looking only at Eric.
His lips turn up as he fights back a smirk, and Max elbows him.
"He's actually kind of funny. Um, I know he doesn't believe in the effectiveness of essential oils, and…" I pause, and the whole room is silent. "He kept a Valentine from a little girl in Amity. It's in his office. Oh, and he's supposed to have seven kids and some sort of garden."
"Is that…well…is that all?" Jack looks both amused and relieved. "I take this to mean you've spent the night with him?"
"Yes," I keep my eyes on him, but it's hard to miss the man I think is his father leaning forward, looking stunned. "He sleeps on the left side of the bed. And he doesn't wake up easily."
"Right. Well...then, while you were there, did he ever discuss Amity with you?" Jack resumes his stoic demeanor. "Or his plans for it?"
"Only that he wanted to reaffirm their safety." I lean back, glancing over at a very smug looking Rylan. "He has some connections there. He knows my brother."
"Do you trust him?" Jack asks. "Do you believe he would hurt you?"
"I do trust him," I respond easily. "I don't think he'd hurt me, no. He's been very honest about who he is."
"Thank you for all this, Miss Carlen. Give me a second to see if there's anything else the jury would like asked of you." Jack steps aside and heads toward the Leaders. He speaks with Marcus and the woman in blue, then Johanna. Once they all agree on something, he returns to me. "I have one final question, and then you will be given something to undo the Truth Serum if you wish."
"Sure."
Jack looks at me, then Eric, then back to me.
"If Eric is found guilty of lesser charges, which is likely given what we've been shown, he will be asked to serve time outside of Dauntless. Upon his return, he will resume his duties to the faction as a Leader. During this time, what is considered a probationary period, one person will be responsible for him, ensuring no further deals have been made, and enforcing the restrictions this court will place upon him. Are you willing to be that person? Are you willing to risk your own reputation for his? Do you truly believe he has changed for the better?"
I take a second to answer.
Across from me, Eric shakes his head. It's slight enough that I can see it, and the defeat is all over him. This is a huge ask, and there's a chance Eric isn't being honest. Though he's been given the same does of Truth Serum I have, he could easily get his life in order, then decide he wants to rule the world, once and for all.
When our eyes meet across the room, I know that's not it.
I think, given what I've learned about him, that he has no desire to rule each faction purely because he can. He might. At some point. But it'll be out of necessity, and not the manic orders of a blonde woman hell bent on destroying everyone around her for her own sake.
I know that vouching for Eric means this isn't the end.
It's the beginning of my involvement on a larger scale, a tie to Eric that will never be broken, because I am putting him before myself.
It's a brave move, one that only someone who has nothing to lose would make.
"Yes."
"Great." Jack smiles, then politely thanks me for my time. "I think we have asked all that we need of you."
Across the room, in front of a crowd both hoping for justice and vengeance, Eric Coulter smiles at me.
It's wide and honest, but most importantly, genuine.
"Thank you, Miss Carlen."
I stand carefully, and find myself entirely unafraid of what's next.