what we do best

part three

For the next two months, Tristan sits with me at lunch every day, and walks me home after last period. One day, he asks me to come over after school.

"I can't. I have to get Zoey. Sorry,"

"We can walk her home and then go to my house. If you want."

I think he notices my hesitation because he quickly retracts his offer.

"No, I want to. I just haven't left Zoey alone. Ever, I don't think. But I'll ask her if she's okay with it," I smile at him, and he practically glows.

I collect Zoey off the bus with Tris by my side and ask her.

"Yes! Go, go have fun. I'll be okay!" She practically shoves me away as we approach the house and hugs Tristan goodbye.

"See, she'll be okay," Tristan nudges my shoulder. He lives a few blocks down from me in the slightly whiter, richer part of the neighborhood.

"Wow. Your house is big," I say as we approach.

"I suppose," He fumbles with his keys and kicks off his shoes in the entryway. I do the same.

"My moms will be out late, so we have the whole house to ourselves," Tristan spins around like the world belongs to him.

"Moms?"

"Yeah. You're cool with that, right?"

I swallow. "Uh, yeah."

"Your birthday is soon. January, right?"

"Oh, yeah. The twenty second."

"What're you gonna do?"

I shrug. "When's your birthday?"

"May sixteenth."

"Cool. It'll be warm, and stuff."

"And stuff."

"Yeah."

Tris pushes up the sleeves of his sweatshirt and leans across the kitchen counter. He cups his chin in his hands and cocks his head. "You can ask, you know."

"What?" I join him at the counter.

"About these," He takes my hand and lets my fingers fall on his wrist. The slightly raised white scars pair with a fresher, angrier, red one that I hadn't seen before. "I know you noticed. It's okay."

I turn his arm over, so I instead study his chipped nail polish. "You can tell me if you want, you don't have to."

Tris pulls away from the counter and nods his head towards the staircase. I follow him to his room, a small alcove with a sloped ceiling and dark green walls. It smells exactly like him. Lights drape along his windowsill, tangled in a plant that's dangling from a hook. A wooden desk sits in the corner, various papers strewn along the top. His bed sits opposite the desk, unmade purple sheets and a small duck atop the pillow.

"You can sit, if you want," Tristan pats the bed next to him. I put my backpack down next to the door where Tris had placed his. I sit tentatively on the corner of his mattress, like I was intruding on a world that wasn't my own.

"Your room is cool," I gaze around, methodically avoiding his eyes.

"Thanks. You can come a little closer, I don't bite," Tris laughs, the lights from the window highlighting his dimple. I fold my legs underneath myself and scoot closer. My knee knocks against his, and a small smile tucks itself in the corner of his mouth.

"What are you smiling about?" I push my shoulder against Tristan's.

"Nothing." Tris turns so that he's facing me. "Let's go get something to eat."

The winter wind yanks tears from my eyes and my cheeks are a rosy pink by the time we reach a small coffee shop. Tris pulls my hand from my pocket and holds it tight in his own gloved hand.

"I could've given you gloves. You must be freezing," He doesn't let go of my hand even when I reassure him that I'm okay. In fact, he only lets go when two coffees are delivered to our table. It's warm and bitter, but the best thing I've had all day. Tris breaks a cookie in half and hands one part out to me.

"I'll pay you back tomorrow," I say, gesturing to the mugs and cookie. Tristan shakes his head and nudges my ankle underneath the table.

"You're good," His smile is sweet, and suddenly I'm upset. I'm upset because I know I'm falling for him, and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it.