A/N
So I realise a lot of you may think that the whole "Candor and Dauntless" part and a few other things in this story are cliché. And I understand that, but there are so many reasons (that I can't adequately explain) as to why and how these things contribute to the story line.
I also understand that you've probably read the same thing over and over— I get that. But if you're taking the time to read this story, then take the time to actually read the story, even if parts of it you've seen before. All they are are just factors of a common Divergent fanfiction writer, but things like Candor or Dauntless have no literary conceptual influence on the story line.
But in a different note😂, I hope you're having a really nice day/ night!
-Tayah
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T R I S
"Do you know where they are?" Caleb asks, pouring some apple juice into a glass and sliding it to me.
"I already told you," I take a sip, savouring the sweet taste, "I don't know anything."
Caleb opens his mouth to say something, then shakes his head. I don't even bother trying to figure out what he's thinking. "Do you know when they'll be back?" he asks. I put down the mostly full glass and look at him, bored.
"For the last time," I sigh, "I don't know anything, okay?"
"I'm sorry." Caleb looks at the table, at the door, at the clock. "I'm just.. I don't know."
There is a long silence. "You're just what? You know, Caleb, I really don't get you sometimes."
His eyes drift to mine. "What do you mean?"
"I mean how have you not gotten used to the idea that this is what our parents do? They- they just take off all the time and they leave us unguarded and they come back, promising to be better, then leave again!"
Caleb blinks a few times, his green eyes thoughtful, before coming up with an adequate response. "You can talk." He crosses his arms. "Where were you last night?"
"Out," I say bluntly.
"Out," Caleb presses. I nod. "Let me guess.. You were out drinking at Peter's."
I smile because, for once, he's wrong. "Nope. I was just out with the girls. But how is that just as bad as mum and dad?"
"It's not," Caleb shrugs, "but if you carry on, it will be." He watches my hand for a second, as I tap each acrylic nail on the kitchen counter. "Oh, and I heard about your little episode with Myra in your English class."
I sip at my apple juice again, mentally cursing when I realise there isn't much left, and say, "I have no idea what you're talking about," before moving towards the fridge to get some more.
"It's all gone," says Caleb. "You drank it all." I sigh as I sit back in my seat. "Get some more, then," I order him.
Caleb puts his forearms on the table and hunches over them, then frowns at me. "I'm not your dad am I, Tris? Go get some yourself."
"Well you sure as hell act like you are," I say to myself.
"Because when I was your age, they didn't do this kind of stuff. No being out drinking at stupid o'clock, or bullying people because they're smarter than me! I had adult figures whilst growing up, so right now you need the same!" Caleb retorts in his fatherly voice I'm sick of hearing.
"Well you need to chill out, for God's sake! I don't know why you're always making out like you're so much older than me!"
"Because I am-" Caleb says before I cut him off by saying, "Three years. Three. Fucking. Years." Caleb glares at me, enraged.
"Don't start swearing, Beatrice!" Caleb shouts, making me close my mouth. He points at me, and we've now reached the part in our weekly dispute where his face turns red and his hands start to shake.
"You know I don't like people calling me that-"
"You know why I need to behave like a parent to you?" I sigh loudly. "Because you have done nothing to prove to me you're mature enough."
"You're being serious? Mature? When am I not mature?"
"For starters, all of this- this partying all the time. Being a complete bitch to everyone at school? Sometimes I think you only behave like this just because our parents are never here to tell you right from wrong." I roll my eyes. I hate him constantly treating me like some delinquent. "It's like you're a completely different person sometimes!"
"Relax, Caleb!"
"I can't relax, Tris!" I can see his eyes starting to glisten. "Honestly, it's like I don't even know you anymore!"
There is silence for a moment, as I stare at him, and he stares at the ground.
"I need a brother, not another parent," I calmly say. "I can take care of myself and I think you know that. You just deny everything then choose to take this path because you're scared."
"Pttf. Scared," Caleb says shortly. He shakes his head, still looking at the ground
I put one hand on the table and shift my weight to one side. I'm used to not having my mum and dad around. Caleb, on the other hand, is used to having that sense of security. But with them gone, as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he is scared, so he converts all of that lack of security into parent-like behaviour.
And it works. I make bad decisions because I get out of control, and he tidies them up because he needs that control. It's just the way we deal with it.
YOU ARE READING
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