Dauntless High School

Chapter 37

TRIS

Tobias storms in the next morning without knocking. He has spent so much time here over the past month that such formalities have become unnecessary. I am sitting in the kitchen when he arrives, and I look up, startled.

"What's wrong?" I ask, not bothering with a greeting.

"Peter," he seethes. "It had to be Peter."

"What did he do?" I ask, feeling heavy. I can't stand that guy.

Tobias reaches out his hand and I take it without question and allow him to lead me out to the driveway.

I gasp when I see the driver's door of his car. The previously flawless black paint is now marred by four long scratches in varying depths. "He keyed your car," I whisper. I can imagine how angry I would be if I found such vandalism on my own truck. I have worked hard on that truck, just as Tobias has on his Mustang, so I can understand the fury I see in Tobias's eyes. I squeeze his hand. "Well, I have everything we need, except the paint, and we can use my garage to keep rain and dirt off while it dries. I guess that gives us another project, doesn't it? Another excuse to spend even more time together." I smirk up at him and bump his hip.

Some of the anger drains from Tobias's eyes and is replaced with amusement. "Thank you, Peter," he snickers. He starts to lead me back to the house and pauses. "Is Marlene here?"

"Yep," I answer.

"Let's go to the garage. Take inventory of equipment and supplies, just to be sure."

I laugh as I dig the garage key out of my pocket and lead him to the door.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The week passes quickly. My English test on Catcher in the Rye is handed back with a big red 'A' on it, and Tobias pulls me into an empty classroom on the way to lunch to celebrate. I return to the cheerleading squad, although I am not permitted to participate in any stunts that could aggravate last month's neck injuries. Marlene does not question the time Tobias spends at my house helping me with my math homework and working on his car; after realizing that my garage and interest in vintage cars was a good excuse to spend time with me, he decided to add a few other upgrades to the list. And in preparation for next week's basketball team tryouts, Zeke invites Shauna and me to play basketball with himself and Tobias one night after practice.

The most exciting news is that Uriah, who I still visit every two or three days, shows the first signs of responsiveness. I don't really know much about comas, but when Marlene and I visit Wednesday night I swear I feel him squeeze my hand. It is weak, but it is the first time in all these weeks that he has shown any sign of awareness whatsoever, and it takes everything in me not to run screaming through the halls of the cafeteria to tell Zeke right that instant. He must go to the cafeteria twice per visit; like Uriah, Zeke is a bottomless pit.

"Tris," Marlene says, watching me fidget in my seat, "go down and find Zeke. I'll sit with Uriah, see if it happens again."

So I speed walk down the halls, since running would probably not be well received by the hospital staff. There is a crowd waiting for the elevator and patience is something I do not have right now, so I detour to the stairwell and run down eight flights of stairs to the ground level where the cafeteria is.

I quickly spot Zeke in the dining area, now nearly finished with his plate of food, and he just about squeezes the life out of me with his hug when I tell him what happened.

"I didn't tell you because I thought I was imagining it," Zeke says when we sit back down together at the table, "but yesterday, he turned his head and I could have sworn it was because he heard me."