“You didn’t tell me,” he says. “Why not?”
“Because I didn’t . . .” I shake my head. “I didn’t know how to.”
He scowls. “It’s pretty easy, Tris—”
“Oh yeah,” I say, nodding. “It’s so easy. All I have to do is go up to you and say, ‘By the way, I shot Will, and now guilt is ripping me to shreds, but what’s for breakfast?’ Right? Right?” Suddenly it is too much, too much to contain. Tears fill my eyes, and I yell, “Why don’t you try killing one of your best friends and then dealing with the consequences?”
I cover my face with my hands. I don’t want him to see me sobbing again. He touches my shoulder.
“Tris,” he says, gently this time. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pretend that I understand. I just meant that . . .” He struggles for a moment. “I wish you trusted me enough to tell me things like that.”
I do trust you, is what I want to say. But it isn’t true—I didn’t trust him to love me despite the terrible things I had done. I don’t trust anyone to do that, but that isn’t his problem; it’s mine.
“I mean,” he says, “I had to find out that you almost drowned in a water tank from Caleb. Doesn’t that seem a little strange to you?”
Just when I was about to apologize.
I wipe my cheeks hard with my fingertips and stare at him.
“Other things seem stranger,” I say, trying to make my voice light. “Like finding out that your boyfriend’s supposedly dead mother is still alive by seeing her in person. Or overhearing his plans to ally with the factionless, but he never tells you about it. That seems a little strange to me.”
He takes his hand from my shoulder.
“Don’t pretend this is only my problem,” I say. “If I don’t trust you, you don’t trust me either.”
“I thought we would get to those things eventually,” he says. “Do I have to tell you everything right away?”
I feel so frustrated I can’t even speak for a few seconds. Heat fills my cheeks.
“God, Four!” I snap. “You don’t want to have to tell me everything right away, but I have to tell you everything right away? Can’t you see how stupid that is?”
“First of all, don’t use that name like a weapon against me,” he says, pointing at me. “Second, I was not making plans to ally with the factionless; I was just thinking it over. If I had made a decision, I would have said something to you. And third, it would be different if you had actually intended to tell me about Will at some point, but it’s obvious that you didn’t.”
“I did tell you about Will!” I say. “That wasn’t truth serum; it was me. I said it because I chose to.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I was aware. Under the serum. I could have lied; I could have kept it from you. But I didn’t, because I thought you deserved to know the truth.”
“What a way to tell me!” he says, scowling. “In front of over a hundred people! How intimate!”
“Oh, so it’s not enough that I told you; it has to be in the right setting?” I raise my eyebrows. “Next time should I brew some tea and make sure the lighting is right, too?”
Tobias lets out a frustrated sound and turns away from me, pacing a few steps. When he turns back, his cheeks are splotchy. I can’t remember ever seeing his face change color before.
“Sometimes,” he says quietly, “it isn’t easy to be with you, Tris.” He looks away.
I want to tell him that I know it’s not easy, but I wouldn’t have made it through the past week without him. But I just stare at him, my heart pounding in my ears.
I can’t tell him I need him. I can’t need him, period—or really, we can’t need each other, because who knows how long either of us will last in this war?
“I’m sorry,” I say, all my anger gone. “I should have been honest with you.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” He frowns.
“What else do you want me to say?”
He just shakes his head. “Nothing, Tris. Nothing.”
I watch him walk away. I feel like a space has opened up within me, expanding so rapidly it will break me apart.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“OKAY, WHAT THE hell are you doing here?” a voice demands.
I sit on a mattress in one of the hallways. I came here to do something, but I lost my train of thought when I arrived, so I just sat down instead. I look up. Lynn—who I first met when she stomped on my toes in a Hancock building elevator—stands over me with raised eyebrows. Her hair is growing out—it’s still short, but I can’t see her skull anymore.
“I’m sitting,” I say. “Why?”
“You’re ridiculous, is what you are.” She sighs. “Get your stuff together. You’re Dauntless, and it’s time you acted like it. You’re giving us a bad reputation among the Candor.”
“How exactly am I doing that?”
“By acting like you don’t know us.”
“I’m just doing Christina a favor.”
“Christina.” Lynn snorts. “She’s a lovesick puppy. People die. That’s what happens in war. She’ll figure it out eventually.”
“Yeah, people die, but it’s not always your good friend who kills them.”
“Whatever.” Lynn sighs impatiently. “Come on.”
I don’t see a reason to refuse. I get up and follow her down a series of hallways. She moves at a brisk pace, and it’s difficult to keep up with her.
“Where’s your scary boyfriend?” she says.
My lips pucker like I just tasted something sour. “He’s not scary.”
“Sure he’s not.” She smirks.
“I don’t know where he is.”
She shrugs. “Well, you can grab him a bunk, too. We’re trying to forget those Dauntless-Erudite bastard children. Pull together again.”
I laugh. “Dauntless-Erudite bastard children, huh.”
She pushes a door open, and we stand in a large, open room that reminds me of the building’s lobby. Unsurprisingly, the floors are black with a huge white symbol in the center of the room, but most of it has been covered up with bunk beds. Dauntless men, women, and children are everywhere, and there isn’t a single Candor in sight.