The Iron Soldier: A FourTris Divergent Story

Chapter 10

Christina is still talking to Four. I'm petrified to find out what she is saying to him. She hands him a pen she pulls free from the binder of a spiral notebook and he scribbles something onto a piece of paper that he then pushes into the palm of her hand. He looks up at me again. I have to look away fast so he won't know I was watching them. After another few words are exchanged, he heads back toward the opposite team's dugout.

I'm cautious when I approach her from behind. "What was that all about?"

She flashes a huge Cheshire Cat grin. "I got his number for you."

"What?" I'm both appalled and ecstatic at the same time, but I shouldn't be. I thought by staying away I'd be able to forget about him and concentrate on my classes, but he keeps popping up everywhere I go. Now, whether I want to admit it or not, I get butterflies every time I think about him. Avoiding him is not something I want anymore. Maybe a date or two wouldn't be so bad. "Let me see that." I pull the folded paper out of her hands, opening it to its full size, and read. It says, Mind your own business.

A fake smile invades my face when I show her what is written on the paper. "Oh." She replies. "I wasn't expecting that. I told you he's an ass. Just forget about him. There are so many hot guys around here. Maybe some Price Charming will win the bid to kiss you and you'll live happily ever after.

"Please." I roll my eyes.

"Oh, so now the fairytale puns aren't funny anymore?"

I can't help but snicker at her. "The game is about to start. Let's go join the team.

I don't care for organized sports. Mostly because I hate depending on others the help me win. I'm just too competitive. But this is for a good cause, and regardless of who wins, the hospital still gets every dime raised by the two teams.

Each team has to have four girls and five boys playing at all times and since we only managed to scrape up the bare minimum number of players, we have to play the entire game. It's fine with me since Christina and I are some of the best players.

I'm positioned on first and Christina is on third. The men on our team didn't think we could handle the outfield. One of Will's friends suggested infield because we wouldn't be able to throw the ball in from the outfield, or catch a fly ball. I can't help but laugh when this same friend has to chase down a pop-up that he severely misjudged. "He runs like a girl." I holler toward Christina and she begins to laugh.

"You mean he wishes he did." She answers back.

I know he can hear us. He turns bright red as he throws the ball into second. "The play was at third." I yell at him.

It only takes two innings for the others to mutually agree that they misjudged us. Although the other two female players are completely useless. One swings the bat like she's moving under water, and the other steps back, afraid every pitch will hit her.

"We are so going to lose." I mumble, as the second girl makes the final out of the inning. We make our way back out onto the field. Will is pitching, and so far, he's doing a decent job.

Four steps up to the plate. He takes a practice swing and ends with the bat in his left hand, pointing it right at me.

"Bring it." I whisper just loud enough to hear my own words.

He watches two pitches go by. The first a strike and the second a ball. On the third pitch he comes in contact, sending the ball into center field, just out of reach to be caught. The fielder grabs the ball, and throws it as hard as he can right at me. I'm watching the ball approach in slow motion, completely aware how close Four is getting. I'm not worried. I snatch the ball out of the air a fraction of a second before his foot touches the bag.