Tris & Christina Oneshots {DIVERGENT}

Giving Thanks

In light of Thanksgiving, I wrote a Tristina one shot for it. Set in modern day Illinois.
Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!
~
T R I S

After a two-hour drive outside Chicago to Freeport in the rain, I begin to think making this journey to have Christina meet my family for Thanksgiving isn't completely worth it.

The day has gone terribly enough already. I was in charge of making homemade stuffing but burnt some of the breading, and now there's a crispy, bitter layer underneath the top that's been successfully masqueraded as appealing to the eye. And of course, getting Christina out of bed at eight in the morning on a holiday was a huge challenge that required too much lifting and pulling.

So far the only successful task I've completed was hauling Christina--who was whining about missing the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade--into the car and making sure the stuffing wouldn't tip over in the back seat.

Every bump in the road I hit is just another second my patience thins. I can see Christina is nervous. She's fidgeting and bouncing her leg up and down.

"If you wanted to go to your family's house, we could have," I say, glancing over at her.

She shrugs her shoulders. "It's just that we've spent the last two Thanksgivings with them and I thought it was your turn to show me where you come from. I thought it would make you happy."

I snort. The one thing I won't tell her in the meantime is that I'm quite literally shaking in my boots over this. Extended family sends a chill up my spine. Even the phrase gives me a case of the jitters.

"Chrissy, my family isn't exactly the most welcoming bunch of people," I sigh. "After my parents died four years ago, they distanced themselves from me. They know nothing about who I am or you or the fact that I'm. . ."

Christina is silent for a moment, and the pattering of the rain echoes in my ears. My hand begins to shake as it grasps hers.

"That you're gay? Is that a problem with them?" Christina asks.

"I don't know. There's only been one other gay family member in my family. They refuse to speak to him anymore," I say. "I'm just afraid that they'll say the wrong thing or mistreat us. They don't know you're coming. You know how I get when someone hurts you."

She gently strokes the small scar on my hand from the airborne shard of a flying beer bottle.

"Try not to think about it," Christina whispers in that way that immediately calms me down. "We'll see what happens. We can always leave. It's not that far of a drive."

Just as she says that, I pull into the neighborhood where my extended family is gathering to give thanks today. My great aunt's house is only a few down the street. There are already cars in the driveway and two parked by the curb. I park behind a red Chevy that I can only recognize as my drunk uncle's truck. As cliché as it is, my family has one of those.

Christina gets out first and tugs her hoodie over her head. I get the stuffing from the backseat, which is surprisingly still hot, and lead Christina to the door. I can already hear the familiar sounds of people chattering and laughing.

Christina refrains from touching me for my sake. She rings the doorbell and my chest rattles with wheezes. Christina leaves one quick little kiss on my cheek right before the door opens. My great aunt Alice looks me up and down.

"Tris?" she asks, pushing her glasses up. "This is my little Tris?"

I can't find the will to speak, so I simply nod. The aluminum pan of food is slowly burning my hands but I hardly feel a damn thing.