You nearly died today,' he says. 'I almost shot you. Why didn't you shoot me, Tris?' 'I couldn't do that,' I say. 'It would have been like shooting myself.' He looks pained and leans closer to me, so his lips brush mine when he speaks.
Four: Be brave Tris. The first time is always the hardest.
Why is your heart racing Tris?
Are you asking me to undress, Tris?' A nervous laugh gurgles from my throat. 'Only ... partially
There's a reason why she left them, Lauren," he says. His voice is deep, and it rumbles. "What's your name?" "Um..." I don't know why I hesitate. But "Beatrice" just doesn't sound right anymore. "Think about it," he says, a faint smile curling his lips. " You don't get to pick again." A new place, a new name. I can be remade here. "Tris," I say firmly.
You know, most boys would enjoy being trapped in close quarters with a girl." I roll my eyes. "Not claustrophobic people, Tris.
Do I look like I’ve been crying?’ I say. ‘Hmm.’ He leans in close, narrowing his eyes like he’s inspecting my face. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Even closer, so we would be breathng the same air- if I could remember to breathe. ‘No, Tris,’ he says. A more serious look replaces his smile as he adds, ‘You look tough as nails.
I want to be brave, and selfless, and smart, and kind, and honest.
If you put a baseball and other toys in front of a baby, he'll pick up a baseball in preference to the others.
Luck is the great stabilizer in baseball.
The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.
We've all started to put down the virtues of the other factions in the process of bolstering our own. I don't want to do that. I want to be brave, and selfless, and smart, and kind, and honest." He clears his throat. "I continually struggle with kindness.
I am no longer Tris, the selfless, or Tris, the brave. I suppose that now, I must become more than either.
"I'll be your family now," he says. "I love you," I say. He stares at me. I wait with my hands clutching his arms for stability as he considers his response. He frowns at me. "Say it again." "Tobias," I say, "I love you."
For a few minutes we kiss, deep in the chasm, with the roar of water all around us. And we rise, hand in hand, I realize that if we had both chosen differently, we might have ended up doing the same thing, in a safer place, in gray clothes instead of black ones.
I pout my lower lip for a second, but then I grin as the pieces come together in my mind. "THAT'S why you like me!" I exclaim. "Because you're not very nice either! It makes so much more sense now.
The American boy starts swinging the bat about as soon as he can lift one.
A chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy.
It would be useless for any player to attempt to explain successful batting.
I love you." He frowns. "Say it again." "Tobias," I say. "I love you.
Tris," he says. "What did they do to you? You're acting like a lunatic." "That's not very nice of you to say," I say. "They put me in a good mood, that's all. And now I really want to kiss you, so if you could just relax-
The ballpark is the star. In the age of Tris Speaker and Babe Ruth, the era of Jimmie Foxx and Ted Williams, through the empty-seats epoch of Don Buddin and Willie Tasby and unto the decades of Carl Yastrzemski and Jim Rice, the ballpark is the star. A crazy-quilt violation of city planning principles, an irregular pile of architecture, a menace to marketing consultants, Fenway Park works. It works as a symbol of New England's pride, as a repository of evergreen hopes, as a tabernacle of lost innocence. It works as a place to watch baseball.
That said, in the two weeks before I leave for the Dark Days tour, I am going radio silent, which means I will be avoiding the Internet at all costs in order to revise, revise, revise. I will miss you. Tris says hi, though.
At last Niko dropped his hands, and opened his eyes. His perfect tree illusion solidified and settled. "Very nice," said Briar with approval. "Couldn't have done better myself" "Couldn't do it at all yourself," muttered Tris. Briar ignored her. "But you'd never find a cork oak in these parts. Too cold." Niko looked down his nose at the boy. "I beg your pardon?" Briar shrugged. "Just thought I'd mention it." Niko glared.
It must be because you're so approachable", I say flatly. "You know, like a bed of nails." He stares at me, and I don't look away. He isn't a dog but the same rules apply. Looking away is submissive. Looking him in the eye is a challenge. It's my choice. Heat rushes into my cheeks. What will happen when this tension breaks? But he just says, "Careful, Tris.
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