Author's Note:
Okay... this took me forever, I know. Life's been weird and crazy and I've had a terrible case of writer's block. I can't say that I'm entirely over that, but I did manage to finish this chapter finally. Thought about posting an author's note to let you know, but I hate it when I get a notification that there's a new chapter and then open it to find out that it's actually NOT a chapter, so I didn't want to do that to you.
Anyway... here it is. I really have no idea how soon you should expect the next update, but even if it takes me a month, the update WILL come, I haven't given up on the story or anything like that!
I don't own Divergent and I also don't own Seinfeld.
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SUNDAY, OCTOBER 12, 2014 | 11:25 AM | TRIS
I park my car in its usual spot at the curb in front of Uriah's house. When we first started hanging out, sometimes that spot would be taken, but now that section of the road always seems to be left open, as if the neighbors understand that my car belongs there.
I sling my backpack over my shoulder and grab my skateboard and helmet from the backseat before locking my car, then trot up the stone path in the front yard, on the right side near the driveway, smiling at the Father's Day stepping stones each time my foot touches one. Zeke and Uriah had made them for Jacob in 2001 and 2005, according to the markings someone had finger drawn along the perimeter of the concrete circle before the cement dried. Each one is decorated with colored glass beads that Zeke and Uri probably thought were precious gems when they placed them into the stones. The mental image of a three-year-old Uriah making this gift for his dad makes my smile widen; I picture him choosing where to place each of his precious gems around his chubby little handprint, just the tip of his tongue peeking out the left side of his closed lips like it often does when he's concentrating, before turning around and throwing wet cement at Zeke.
Uriah's house is modest, your typical 1950s-built, one story, three-bedroom home with a basketball hoop fixed above the garage door ― comfortable and lived-in. I run my hand over the top of the hedges that I trimmed last weekend when I helped Uriah catch up on the yard work. We had plans to go surfing in the lake with our friends before the weather gets too cold, and Hana had insisted that Uriah finish his chores before he could go. She was working that day so we probably could have gone surfing first and done the yard work later, and Hana would have been none the wiser. But Hana's cool and we respect her, so we worked together and got it done in just an hour and a half that morning.
When I reach the front door, I let myself in; Uriah always unlocks the door when he's expecting me, and the Pedrads mean it when they tell you to "make yourself at home." I always text Uri to let him know I've arrived before I get out of the car, and today he had immediately replied letting me know he's in the TV room. Probably playing that Tony Hawk game he kept when he gave me my skateboard.
When I walk into the TV room, I hear canned laughter instead of the game's soundtrack. I sit down with Uriah on the couch and cuddle into his side, and he wraps both arms around me and squeezes a little tighter than normal but doesn't say anything, and when I see that he is watching Seinfeld, I understand why.
GEORGE: $2? But everyone in front of me got free bread.
SOUP NAZI: You want bread?
GEORGE: Yes, please.
SOUP NAZI: $3!
GEORGE: What?
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Count On Me
FanfictionBeatrice Prior's world seems to be falling apart at the seams. Her boyfriend disappeared without a word, her mother has fallen ill, and there's only one person who understands. With him, she can leave her painful past behind. With him, she can...
