Chapter 50

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TRIS

When I wake up the next morning, my eyes are swollen and itchy with a dull ache behind them. I turn off my alarm and stare up at the ceiling. Why do I keep letting stupid boys upset me like this? Pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes, I try to decide what to do.

When this happened with Peter, I was later so embarrassed at the way I had tried to cling to him. For a time I placed all the blame on myself, thinking that my expectations of him were what drove him away and into the arms of other girls. It took a lot of convincing from Zeke and Uriah to make me see that it had nothing to do with me, that Peter had always been that away and all I did was let the wrong guy into my heart. I don't want a repeat of last time. I am not going to follow Four around like a lost puppy, I resolve.

No, I won't follow him around like a lost puppy. There are other ways to handle this situation. No more tears, no more moping, and no more second-guessing myself. With renewed resolve, I jump out of bed. After tearing through my closet and channeling my inner Christina, I head to the bathroom with a revealing crop top and the jeans that always make Four stare at my ass. By the time I am ready, I have taken so much extra time on my hair and make-up that Marlene is leaning in the doorway badgering me to hurry up before we're late to class, but I am wholly satisfied with the girl I see in the mirror. My wide, round eyes stand out, appearing a sky blue instead of their usual gray tint; the care I took in applying my eye make-up was especially worth it. I am striking.

We barely make it in time for first period. I sit in my usual seat, next to the one that my classmates still leave empty for Uriah, but I can't help smiling to myself knowing that he will soon occupy the spot again. He will be in a wheelchair, but he'll be here, not unconscious in that damn hospital bed. In fact, he came home from the hospital earlier this week. I never want to enter that horrible place again.

I don't see Tobias until math class. He does a double take when I walk in and makes no attempt to hide that he's checking me out. I took my time getting here and we don't have a chance to talk at all before the lesson begins, but he does lean in to whisper in my ear, "You look good, Tris."

I smirk at the feeling of success that washes through me, but my stomach falls through the floor as the words echo in my head. He said those same words to me on our first date, just a few months ago. Every bit of satisfaction is washed away by the wave of disgust. Am I seriously doing this? Dressing myself up to try and win back the attention of a guy who is already losing interest after only a few months?

After the lesson, Tobias makes a few attempts at starting light conversation, but I give short answers and limp through my assignment. I don't feel like I have entirely grasped the previous lessons over the last week. Normally Four helps me, but we haven't done homework together all week since he has been avoiding me.

Not that my academic success is his responsibility; I never had trouble in math before last year. It's my own fault that I'm struggling. Four usually has to go back and reteach me previous concepts that I had never really tried to get the hang of before. Maybe he's getting sick of helping me. Maybe he has realized he could do better.

Thoughts like these are familiar; they are like the ones that drown out all other thoughts after most conversations with my dad. All day, thoughts like these keep popping up. By the end of the school day, I am exhausted from my warring thoughts.

-o-o-o-o-o-

We have cheer practice after school, the last one before the final playoff game, which is just two days away. I try not to steal glances at Tobias as he practices with the team on the nearby field, but I can't seem to help myself. His team is still practicing when Marlene and I make our way to my truck. We climb up into the truck and buckle our lap belts. I put the key in the ignition but don't start the truck.

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