Red

21

"Tris, do we really have to do this right now? Just get on the plane," Van says. He was just as annoyed as I was.

"We don't have to do this right now. Leave me alone, and let me sleep where I want to," I say. Really, I would have preferred to sleep on the plane, but I wanted to prove to Van that he didn't completely control my life.

Van runs his hand through his hair. "You want to sleep out here?" He questions with a smirk on his face. "Fine." He gets up and walks around to the front of the plane.

I smile to myself at the small victory I just achieved. I knew I wouldn't sleep well out here since it was pretty cold and I had no towels to keep me warm, but it was too late to go back inside. That would mean Van wins.

I stare at the water, which was only visible because of the full moon in the sky, and listen to the crash of the waves. Everything was peaceful right now. I wish I could just stay like this forever.

"Here," Van's voice sounds from behind me.

I turn around, confused. I thought he had gone in for the night. He places a few towels and his sweatshirt down in front of me. "You're gonna be cold if you're sleepin out here. Not about to risk you gettin sick because you're being stubborn," he says. I don't reply to him.

I notice that he has his own towels with him. Was he really sleeping out here with me? I take the biggest towel Van brought me and lay it out so I wouldn't have to be sleeping in the sand. I leave Van's sweatshirt in the sand and use the remaining two towels as blankets.

Van sighs, probably realizing that I'm not using his sweatshirt, but he doesn't say anything. My back is faced toward him and I hear him lay his towel down. He was probably about ten feet away from me.

I close my eyes, but I'm unable to fall sleep. I don't know if it's because I'm cold, because of Annabelle, or because of Van. I try listening to the waves and the bugs to get me to sleep, but nothing seems to be working. I lay there for what feels like hours.

Once I'm sure Van has gone to sleep, I reach over and grab his sweatshirt. I didn't want him to think I needed anything that belonged to him. I'm only taking it because I'm cold.

"Time to go in the plane yet?" Van mumbles as I finish putting on his sweatshirt.

I roll my eyes and lie back down. "No," I say. He really looked like he was asleep. I would have waited longer had I known he was still awake.

Thankfully, Van doesn't say anything else. I roll over onto my side so I wasn't facing Van.

//——————

Van isn't there when I wake up, and all his towels were gone, too. The sun looked like it was just now rising, meaning it was still early morning.

I couldn't see what was going on on the other side of the plane, but I heard voices. It sounded like a lot of people were up, surprisingly, considering it was so early.

I sit up and yawn, still tired since I didn't sleep too well last night. I kept waking up randomly every hour or so. Sleeping on the sand also isn't as comfortable as you would think.

Soon enough, I bring myself to stand up. I didn't want to, though. I wanted to sit there all day, thinking about anything but being here.

I grab my towels and do my best to shake out the sand that was in them and make my way back to the plane. God, what I would do for an actual blanket and my own pillow. Newspaper would be just as comfortable as these towels.

I walk to the other side of the plane where everyone who was up was gathered. Van was the first person I noticed, probably since he was so tall. He had to be over six feet, at least. He was pacing back and forth and talking with his friends. I've never seen him look stressed before, he had always seemed so confident, so in control, but not right now. I knew something was bugging him.

I stand there alone, looking pathetic. Everyone seemed stressed, and here I was, completely clueless. I look around for any clue as to what was bothering everyone so much, but fail to find anything out of the ordinary.

Eventually, I walk into the plane. It would be best for me not to make a fool of myself in front of everyone, only, when I walk on, I discover that there were plenty of people still on the plane. It seems that I wouldn't be alone after all.

There were probably ten people on the plane and Sam and Bondy were the only people I knew. Sam waves me over when he notices me. They were further back in the plane. I drop my towels in my section and walk back to them.

"Heard you slept outside, didn't ya?" Bondy says. "Van was sorta fuming over it this morning. I don't see the big deal, but I'm sure he's got his reasons." He chuckles and pats my back. Bondy's whole mood completely changed when I walked over. It's like they were hiding whatever happened from me.

I ignore what Bondy had just said and frown. Why was I being kept out of the loop? "W-what happened?" I ask, confused.

Sam and Bondy glance at each other. They both looked unsure of what to say. Bondy adjusts his cap on his head and looks away. I know he's just trying to act preoccupied so he doesn't have to answer me. This wasn't fair at all.

I look at Sam, a little frustrated to say the least. "Sam?" I ask, my voice hopeful. Sam would tell me what was going on. He liked me enough, I'm sure of it.

"I...Tris," he says, battling whether or not he should tell me.

I tilt my head to the side. What were they going to do? Hide whatever was going on from me. I would find out eventually. I'm not stupid. "What?" I ask. "What is it?"

"I can't tell you right now, Tris. You know I want to. I just can't," Sam tells me. His eyes were filled with complexion and his lips were pursed together.

"So...tell me?" I say, my voice bland.

"Tris, were not supposed to," Bondy chimes in.

"Not supposed to?" I ask, turning to look at Bondy. Here I am, standing in front of the two people who I thought actually liked me, and it turns out they're keeping secrets from me.

"You know we'd tell you. We both bloody love ya," Bondy tells me. He puts a hand on my shoulder. "Van just thinks it's best if only a few people know about it for now. He doesn't want to worry anyone."

"Well, everyone seems to know except me," I say, upset. "I mean, look around." I point to everyone else on the plane with concerned looks on their faces. "Why does Van have the final say in everything." I should have known Van was the reason I didn't know whatever was happening. He thinks I'm naive. He thinks I'm too young. But I'm not.