Dauntless High School

Chapter 23

TRIS

I am sitting here in my kitchen, alone, studying on a Saturday night. Home alone on a Saturday night. I honestly don't remember the last time this happened. I could have gone with Marlene and Lynn, some dare at the beach, I didn't bother to pay attention to what. But I spent the whole day shopping with Christina, and I had promised myself that I would spend a few hours catching up on schoolwork at some point today.

Christina spent the whole day alternating between forcing me into fitting rooms to try on outfits even sluttier than what Lauren wears, and pointing out 'hot' guys everywhere we went, sometimes going as far as literally pushing me toward them. I tried to tell her I wasn't interested in dating right now, but of course she wouldn't listen. So the alone time really isn't so bad tonight anyway. But it still feels weird and wrong.

I started three chapters back in our physics textbook, but what I'm looking at may as well be written in a foreign language. I groan, wondering if I'll have to go back to the very beginning of the textbook for any of this to make sense. Will might run screaming when he sees just how far behind I am.

I gave in and asked Will to tutor me for physics. When I remembered that he saw my last test and offered to help me then, it made me feel a little bit more comfortable asking him for help. I just hope he doesn't tell anybody. We're going to start next week, but it will be totally embarrassing to go into this as clueless as I am right now. I want to catch myself up as much as possible before then.

Will is busy with cross-country track and doesn't have time to tutor me in math as well, so I had been thinking about asking Four for help. I considered it for all of five minutes before he tried to kiss me.

I realize now that it's been there for a while, simmering under the surface, but I hadn't allowed myself to think in that way about him before that moment. For the three days since I rejected that kiss, every time I see him I remember how I wanted to kiss him back, and the guilt I felt for feeling that way. Uriah and I were together for a long time, friends for much longer, and I can't do that to him ― I can't move on that quickly.

But I hate the tension between Four and me ever since. He has gone back to sitting with Uri in Spanish class, mostly only talks to Shauna during English, and math is just plain awkward. I know he's embarrassed and I wish I knew what to say to him.

I shake my head and try to force my brain to focus on the tiny print in my textbook. I've flipped all the way back to chapter 2 now. At least it doesn't all look like Greek now. Only some of it.

I've barely made it through reading two pages, which admittedly took much longer than it should as I just couldn't keep my mind on the text, when I am interrupted by three slow knocks at the side door off the kitchen. My stomach drops through the floor. I recognize that knock too well.

I take my time marking where I left off with a post-it and closing my book. I set it in a corner of the counter and go to the door, then I take a deep breath to prepare myself before opening it.

Uriah leans against the doorframe. "Tris." His speech is sluggish. "Can I... come in?"

I close my eyes and slowly exhale. I want to say no, I don't want him here, not like this. But if I turn him away he's just going to get back in his car and probably get himself killed. I've seen Uriah drunk plenty of times, but this is worse than usual, I don't know how he even managed to get himself here in this state. I even go out and peek around the side of the garage to check that his Jeep is in one piece, and miraculously, it looks just fine.

His glassy, bloodshot eyes follow me as I make my way back to the side door to the house. I hold out my open palm. "Keys," I command. "Then you can come in." He takes forever fishing through his pocket, but once his keys are in my hand I nod at him. He comes in and sits in his usual seat at the kitchen table, and I sit in my chair beside him. "Why are you here, Uriah?" I sigh. Just looking at him has seemed to sap every last bit of energy from my body.

"I love you," he blurts out, and he rubs an uncoordinated hand over his face.

I groan and bury my face in my hands. "Uriah. Please don't do this." I can't deal with this shit right now.

"No, I know, I don't mean..." He shakes his head. "I never want to hurt you. I didn't mean to..."

"What are you talking about?"

"I just, I didn't mean it. So fast after... It just, I... it just happened. I didn't..."

"What just happened?" Being sober while trying to have what seems to be a serious conversation with a drunk person is beyond frustrating.

"First we were just texting. We danced at the party. I didn't mean for it to go as far as it did." He looks all zoned out. "Damn, it was good."

My jaw drops, I finally get his meaning. "Are you kidding me, Uriah? We were together for that long and two weeks later―"

"I know," he groans. There are tears in his eyes. "Tris, I miss you."

"You're telling me you already moved on some other girl, then you tell me how good it was, then you're telling me you miss me." I shake my head. "Unbelievable. Who was it?" He opens his mouth to answer but I think better of it and hold my palm up to stop him. "Don't answer that. I don't want to know." I am suddenly very glad that I went home from the party so early again.

Uriah nods at me with a stupid, blank look on his face. "You were right. You and me, together. Made me an asshole." Well, if that didn't hit me like a punch in the stomach. It was my fault he was an asshole? Doubt that, since we broke up two weeks ago he's being a jackass again right now.

I've heard enough. "Get up, Uriah," I snap. "I'm taking you home. Now." I'm not going to even to take the time to call Zeke. I really hope he is home, I don't want to have to see Uri again tomorrow to get his car back to him.

I have to support Uriah on the way out to his Jeep because he's so drunk he can't walk straight. After I basically push him into the passenger seat, he can't seem to figure out how to work the seatbelt, and I have to buckle it for him. He mumbles complaints about the shoulder belt, which is only cutting into his neck because he's all slumped over. I roll my eyes as I tuck it under his arm; I deal with the annoyance and discomfort of that stupid shoulder belt over my neck every time I get into someone else's car. The lap-only belts are one thing I love about my old truck, even if they are a little less safe.

I've barely made it two blocks before I look over at Uriah and see that he has totally passed out, slumped forward with the side of his head against the window. As I drive, I am seething. I rejected Four just a few days ago, making things painfully awkward with a cute boy I like and who had become my friend. And now here I am, driving my drunk ex-boyfriend home after he confessed that he hooked up with some bitch not even two weeks after our break-up! I should have just kissed Four when I had the chance.

I glance down to find the volume knob on the radio and turn it up, looking back at the road every second or two. Everything is in different places than in my truck, and though I've driven Uriah's Jeep several times before, it's still an adjustment to find all the controls.

I'm just settling back in my seat when I realize that a large truck, coming from my right, is not stopping like it should.

For a millisecond I am debating whether to slam on the brakes or floor the gas pedal, but hesitation is the worst thing in this moment, and it doesn't matter anyway. It is too late. There's no escaping the collision. The bright, bluish-white headlights blind me, and I barely register the deafening crunch of metal before everything goes black.