Truth (a Divergent Fanfic)

Chapter Twenty Two

And never give up,

When I'm falling apart,

Your arms are always open wide,

And your quick to forgive,

When I make a mistake,

You love me in the blink of an eye ~ I Don’t Deserve You, Paul Van Dyk

*****

The day after next, I awake, go through what now seems to be a fairly normal morning routine of waking up, throwing up and going back to sleep, but I know  from the last two days that it fades by around ten in the morning, so I get up and I just deal. I still have no idea why - it’s probably some sort of sick bug - maybe it’s a reaction to the tattoo ink. I look at my inner wrist and I smile. I keep the bandage on of course - no one can see what’s written there - but it’s reassuring to have it all the same.

Today I dress the smartest I have since I’ve come to Candor, because today is not your average day of training. No. It’s the day I’ve been dreading more than any other in my whole life - my final assessment day. But I’m not so apprehensive anymore, although my nerves are still making me jittery. Maybe because I’ve come to trust Candor, and even believe in what it values most; honesty.

I apply black lipstick and smack my lips together to even it out. The mirror image of me looks strong and unbreakable, tough and confident. Today, I will pull that image off. God knows I’ve had enough experience in bravado this month. Fake it till you make it, isn’t that what they always say?

Twirling from side to side, my skirt floats out around my legs - I’ve taken to wearing longer ones since the event, and this one is of black pleats, simple, like the truth. Although sometimes, what with lies and pretending and hiding emotions mixed in, the truth is incredibly, incredibly complex. But I look good - I look confident. I’m not, but I look it, so I’m halfway there.

The door slams behind me and I wince at the sound - it’s only eight, and the nausea hasn’t quite faded yet. I wish it would, although I suspect that this morning half of it is nerves anyway, because today, who knows what they’re going to ask. I don’t mind - anything but one question. And they don’t know about that. At least, I don’t think they do. I should be safe.

I concentrate on my breathing, my steady heart rate and the pattern of beats my feet makes on the cold marble floor. A click-clack sound, like the Dauntless train but echoed more by the walls surrounding it. I love imagining the sound waves in multi-colours and I visualise them in my head diffracting and refracting and being absorbed and then being reflected out again. It’s a beautiful, never-ending principle and thinking about the science behind it calms me down, just like it always has.

“Amber, wait up!” I hear this shout behind me and I recognise the voice - it’s Julian. He jogs up to meet me and we stand for a couple of seconds, staring at each other as he pants to get his breath back. I wait for him.

“Before the assessment,” he says, “I wanted to tell you something. I just… think it’s better if I do it on my own terms.” He sighs nervously, rocking backwards and forwards slightly on the balls of his feet. I wonder what he’s going to say, but whatever it is, he needs to hurry up because we’re going to be late. I open my mouth to tell him so but he beats me to it.

“I like you, Amber.” He twists his hands together - I don’t really process what he’s saying. “I like you a lot. Hell,” he laughs nervously, “I might even love you, I don’t know.” And then he stands there like a helpless puppy waiting for my reply. I am… astounded to say the least. After I get over my initial reaction of ‘what?’, I move onto ‘why?’, and after that, ‘no way’. It doesn’t make any sense - I thought it was Callie that caught his eye, which was why I got so tangled up in my own web of jealousy. If it wasn’t… maybe I’ve been reading both of them wrong. Is it… possible?

Julian, honey, I think, you don’t even know me. You probably wouldn’t want to even if you did.

I’m so shocked by this declaration that I lose my balance slightly, and because my head keeps spinning and there are black patches in the corners of my vision due to shock and the aforementioned nausea, I stumble. Towards Julian. And to him, it doesn’t look like the a stumble, the fall of the disbelieving. To him, it looks like I love him back and I want to be closer to him, even though really, I want to run. But, falsely encouraged, he brings his head down in one fluid swoop, and kisses me right on the lips. He doesn’t know.

It’s a trigger motion, really. A full blown panic attack ensues. I scream and tear my lips from his, and push him away. In my mind, every time every time someone’s near me, it’s him again, every time someone expresses affection or cares about me, I feel the Candor trainer back inside me. And I feel terrible, because not only does Julian not know why I’m freaking out, I’m blowing him off in the worst way possible - every time he tries to come near me as I struggle to breathe and I cry and I curl over, I flail my arms out, hitting him. I can’t see his face; I don’t want to. I don’t want to see his expression, to see how I’ve hurt him.

Finally, I ride out the attack and I manage to calm myself down enough to stand up straight. I wipe my wet face, and by the black marks that come off my hands, I know that both my eyeliner perfection and my facade have been obliterated. I sniffle, but I try my best to walk off tall, purposely avoiding his gaze.

I only stop when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Julian doesn't look at me, because apparently the floor is suddenly incredibly interesting, but as I turn to face him, he holds his hand out. It contains a packet of tissues. I stare at it. Slowly, I reach out my own hand, and, careful to not make any actual skin contact, take it from him. 

I stutter. “Julian…” I can’t think of what to say. He’s so nice, even after everything that’s just happened. The person who ends up with him will be so lucky, because they’ll have perhaps the world’s nicest guy… and I’m turning him down. How can he even… I can’t stand it anymore, and he still won’t look at me, so what’s the point in staying? I turn on my heel and walk out.

Oh, Julian… if only you’d chosen someone who deserves you.

*****

Dedicated to paninigirl1112 because she turned fourteen this week! Happy birthday! Sorry this wasn't updated on your actual birthday... I tried.