Red

61

Bondy let me walk on first. He followed close behind, gently pushing me forward with his hand, encouraging me.

It was quiet on the plane, so quiet that I could hear my feet drag across the floor as I walked passed Van, who I couldn't whether he was sleeping or not. 

"Night, Tris," Bondy whispers to me before walking a little further back in the plane to where he sleeps. 

"Goodnight," I whisper back before walking into my section of the plane. 

I look over the top of the small wall that divided me from Van to see if he was awake, but it was no use. It was too dark see anything. All I could make out was the shape of his body leaning against the wall of the plane.

But as I began to lie down I hear him speak. "Tris," his voice was hardly a whisper, but I could still hear him clearly. He sounded tired, like he had been asleep but woke up. I freeze and grasp one of my towels that I use for a cover tightly in my hands. I wasn't expecting him to speak.

"Tris, c'mere," he whispers again. 

I bite the inside of my cheek, unable to tell if he was mad at me or not. It was hard to tell when he was only whispering.

I stand up and slowly walk over to Van, dragging the towel behind me as I do. I take a seat, leaving about two feet of space between us, and look forward, not at him. He moves closer and slowly removes my fingers from around my towel, holding my hand tightly in his own after. 

"Tell me what you're thinking," he whispers. "Tell me what's up." I look down at his hand which was now tracing lines on my palm.

I shrug my shoulders. 

"Don't know?" Van hums. "You're cold, aren't you?" 

I hadn't really thought about how cold I was until Van brought it up, but now that he did, I realized how cold I was. I couldn't believe how cold it got during the nights since it was always so hot in the afternoons.

I nod my head.

"You need to talk to me, sweetie. Can hardly see you in the dark," he says, though I was pretty sure he could see me just fine and just wanted me to talk.

"A little," I whisper.

"Right," Van says. He turns away from me and lets go of my hand to look through his luggage. He pulls out a sweatshirt that was obviously way too large for me. "This should help," he hands it to me.

I pull it over my head and he helps me by pulling my hair out from underneath the fabric. The sweatshirt was big enough for me to pull it over my legs which I had pressed against my chest for warmth. I rest my chin on my knees and close my eyes. 

"Now talk to me, love," Van says, his voice still a whisper so he didn't wake up anyone who was sleeping.

I remain quiet and still. 

"I know you're thinking about something," he says, persistent in trying to get me to speak.

"I'm not," I whisper. I could feel his eyes one me, even though I wasn't looking at him.

Van sighed. "You're being stubborn, hm? Why's that?" he says. He was tired. I was tired. I knew he wouldn't let us go to sleep until I spoke.

"Bondy told me about Abby...about how you were seeing her," I say, my eyes watering again. My voice cracked, and I failed at trying to hid it with a cough. I hated thinking about Abby, whoever she was. I hated thinking about Van next to her, his hands on her thigh, or holding her hand. I wanted Van to think about me. Not her.

"Listen to me, Tris," Van starts, but I cut him off, jealousy taking over me.

"No!" I say, a little louder than I had intended to. "You should have told me earlier." I pull my hand away from him and cross them across my chest.

Van gives me a look, a look telling me that I shouldn't have said what I just did, I shouldn't have interrupted, and I shouldn't have done it so loudly. "Right, you're trying to cause a scene," he says. His voice was a whisper still, but I could hear the curtness in his voice just fine.

"No, I'm not," I say. My voice wasn't as loud as before, but it was still louder than I should have been on a plane full of sleeping people. "I don't want to talk about it anymore." I stand up and begin to walk away from him.

"You're trying to start a scene," Van repeats. I hear him stand up and then feel his hand on my shoulder, stopping me from walking. He leans down, his mouth level with my ear. "Tris, if you're going to start something, then we're going to finish it. But I'm not going to let you wake up everyone else on the plan because you're deciding to be stubborn," his breath tickled my ear as he spoke, sending shivers down my spine.

Van turns me around and lifts me off my feet, holding me on his hip, and he begins to walk outside. "I'm not talking to you," I mumble, pulling the hood to his hoodie up to hide away as best as I could. 

Even in his hoodie, it was still uncomfortably cold outside. I regretted not asking for Van's sweatpants when he wasn't upset with me. I didn't know how he hasn't turned back inside in only his T-shirt and jeans. He must be freezing.

"Then, we're going to be out here for a long time, darlin'," he replies with a chuckle. "I know you're tired, love. Just talk to me and we can head inside." 

He puts me down and holds both of my hands. "Sit," he demands. But I don't.

"Tris, sit down," Van says, a little more serious this time, almost like a warning.

And, again, I don't.

"Right, princess isn't listening to the rules tonight. I should have know better," he says before lifting me up once again and setting me down on the sand.