White Walls [DIVERGENT]

22. Determination

please, please explain how theo james is that hot? like i don't get it at all.

"Don't go, what we have is irreplacable. No I won't trade this for nothing. I may never get my shit together, but ain't nobody gonna love you better than me."

Tobias:

"Can you please stop changing channels, babe," I beg, turning on the right. The sun peaks from the skyline, as the clouds begin to darken and dusk takes over.

"They're not good songs!" Tris defends laughing, pulling her radiant hair aside as her fingers—yet again—twist at the knob.

Tilting my head back, I groan. "Tris, it's just a song. Can't you just listen to a new song for three minutes of your life?"

"It needs to be the proper songs."

A clump of dark hair spills over my forehead so I whisk it away while asking, "don't you like these songs?"

Tris giggles, and I feel the corners of my lips turn upwards involuntarily. Just as some indie station begins to finish its set of ads, she begins to swipe the dial to another channel.

"They're not the right song, you know?" Clearly, I remain confused, so Tris elaborates. "I mean, I like some of these songs but they don't fit my mood. They just—Can you let me enjoy a song in peace?"

Traffic in Chicago is hectic around this time as everyone is returning from downtown. I had no clue that a route to the nearest ice cream parlor would end up taking close to an hour.

Everytime I push the gas pedal, my eyes wander subconsciously towards her fingers, anticipating what the next station is going to be.

It usually almost always results in a car honking because I nearly drove into them or because I'm taking too long to turn, which is solely because Tris has my attention.

"You're distracting me!" I protest, finally haunting at the red light.

Smirking, Tris wedges her lower lip in between her teeth and winks. "Am I now?"

Oh, God. Unable to keep the crimson heat from rushing to my cheeks, I grip the steering wheel harder.

"Was that supposed to be sexual?" I demand, trying to compose my voice from quivering at the thought. "Because if it was, then you seriously need to work on sex jokes."

Tris rolls her eyes, tugging on the sleeves of her cardigan. "I mean, it's not easy to make intimacy jokes when I'm still a virgin."

My eyes bore onto the road in front of me, feeling my nails digging into the faux leather of the wheel. Every vein in my body is either alert with energy or drained of all liveliness.

"Tobias?"

That doesn't sound like her voice at all, and when I look over at Tris, she seems to be anxiously staring at her lap.

"Tobias!"

Immediately my eyes shoot open at the sound of Marcus' voice echoing throughout my room. Sweat filed against my forehead, and my breathing unsteady.

Shit, did I just dream about her? It feels like it was years ago that I yelled at Tris in the parking lot, releasing all of the negativity clawing away in me. But, in reality, it's only been one day. In fact, just above ten hours.