Глава 17. I lead Tris quietly towards the Pit

I lead Tris quietly towards the Pit. Without the constant bustle of people buzzing around, the cavernous space has taken on an eerie and haunting air. How many times have I walked this path alone? How many nights have I listened to the chasm whisper its drugged words to me, daring me to follow it, calling for me to join it?

The varying pressures of Tris's hand in mine remind me that tonight, I am not going to be alone. I stroke the back of her hand and rub circles on her skin – touches that have no real purpose except to reiterate the fact that we are together.

" So…" Tris starts. " Four fears."

" Four fears then; four fears now, " I nod silently. " They haven't changed, so I keep going in there, but…I still haven't made any progress."

We walk along a path that stretches along the edge of the Pit to the bottom of the chasm. Not many people know this trail exists because it blends so seamlessly with the rock wall, and those who do don't use it often because they don't find much use for it. The roar of the chasm is thunderous; it is the loudest place in the compound, and also the quietest. It offers you an escape from yourself. It's the only place I can truly think.

" You can't be fearless, remember? " she says. " Because you still care about things. About your life."

" I know." I say, and then I fall silent, not because I choose to be, but because I find myself at a an unexpected lack of response that will explain my utterly irrational desire to eliminate fear completely from my mind.

When I was a child, I didn't consider myself to be anything more than ordinary. And sometimes, I considered myself to be less than ordinary, but that all changed when I came here. Four fears is unheard of, even amongst generations of Dauntless. Being here, it brought a euphoria and a sense of belonging that I have never known before. But over time, they faded as the realization that I don't, and never will completely, belong in Dauntless grew stronger and stronger each day. It's completely senseless for me to hope that my fears will diminish with time, but I guess I'm just looking for yet another reason to prove to myself that I do belong here despite all of the thoughts that tell me otherwise.

We hike carefully down the rocks, two dark shadows gliding through the air, skimming the surface of the rocky path that has remained untouched for who knows how long. " You were going to tell me about your aptitude test results." Tris says, breaking the comfortable silence.

" Ah." I fidget with my hands. It's a small and unconscious nervous habit that I have yet to kick. " Does it matter? "

" Yes. I want to know."

" How demanding you are." I smile, thinking back to the first day I met her and how her curiosity troubled me because I found it odd that an Abnegation would have such a inquisitive mind. Now, it is one of the quirks that I love most about her – the drive that she possesses to understand someone or something completely to the core, as if every person or thing is a puzzle that has been placed before her for her to figure out. I have even come to admire that about her. She would have fared well in Erudite, but I'm glad she chose Dauntless.

The path ends at the bottom of the chasm. Rocks jut out at odd angles over the water, all sharp and dewy and moistened by the mist from the tumbling water. I find the rock whose surface has been flattened and smoothed over time and take a seat like I have done thousands of times before today.

" These are things I don't tell people, you know." I say, carefully drawing out the words for subtle emphasis. " Not even my friends."

Not even you.

After all this time, I am still putting my own interests first. It's not that I don't trust Tris because I do – I trust her more than anyone else – but no amount of trust will persuade me to release the grip that I hold over the one secret that could mean my life or my death: that I am nearly imperceptibly but also utterly and unquestionably Divergent. It almost seems unfair that Tris had no choice but to reveal her Divergence to me while I can choose to hide as much of myself as I want at the choice of a few words spoken and unspoken. It is unfair, but I don't want my safety to be jeopardized at the hands of anyone but myself – especially after living sixteen years with my father.

" My result was as expected, " I say, twisting my tale this way and that. " Abnegation."

" Oh." She says. She purses her lips in a straight line. It's a face she takes on when she's either thinking hard or disappointed. I feel horrible at the sight of her vaguely disheartened expression and I have to remind myself over and over that telling a half truth is not a sin worth dwelling on.

Is a half lie worth dwelling on?

" But you chose Dauntless anyway? " she asks.

" Out of necessity."

" Why did you have to leave? " she presses.

I fix my eyes on an empty spot just north of Tris's head. I feel hot shame coiling around inside me at my reluctance to admit my own weaknesses. Cooling mist from the chasm creeps over the rocks, settling around my feet and brushing past my skin to the empty spaces behind me. I wish I could be swept away with it.

" You had to get away from your dad, " she says finally. " Is that why you don't want to be a Dauntless leader? Because if you were, you might have to see him again? "

I shrug. " That, and I've always felt that I don't quite belong among the Dauntless. Not the way they are now, anyway."

Maybe if old Dauntless traditions carried to this day, I might be able to call this place home, but it's not the same anymore. The beliefs, the aspirations, the practices – they're all different now. What used to be honourable and audacious has turned reckless and insensible. I don't want to belong to a place where every action and every thought is faced with an opposing challenge for the mere purpose of proving one's worth.

" But you're…incredible, " she stares at me through eyes that are as large as the moon. " I mean, by Dauntless standards. Four fears is unheard of. How could you not belong here? "

I train my eyes on the scuff marks on my shoes. Every day, I feel like I am teetering precariously on a thin edge between two vastly different worlds. In the first, I am Four – a prodigy amongst the Dauntless. In the second, I am Tobias – a boy who is perpetually running from his fears physically, mentally, and emotionally. The two often blur together, intertwining with each other in passing smears until I am a muddle of uncertainty. I am a puzzle that I, myself, can't even figure out. However, along the way, I have learned a few lessons from the creases and crinkles in my life.

" I have a theory that selflessness and bravery aren't all that different. All your life you've been training to forget yourself, so when you're in danger, it becomes your first instinct. I could belong in Abnegation just as easily." I say.

The Dauntless manifesto reads we believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another. It is this line that, I believe, forms the core of our faction. Courage isn't only present in dire situations; we exhibit our courage every day when we draw the strength to defy the norm and act in spite of everything else.

" Yeah, well, " Tris says, " I left Abnegation because I wasn't selfless enough, no matter how hard I tried to be."

" That's not entirely true." I beam at her. " That girl who let someone throw knives at her to spare a friend, who hit my dad with a belt to protect me—that selfless girl, that's not you? "

She narrows her eyes accusingly. " You've been paying close attention, haven't you? "

" I like to observe people." I say nonchalantly though I am sure my cheeks are red, twining with cherry, easing into burgundy and fading into pink under the unwavering glow flaring in her enigmatic grey eyes.

" Maybe you were cut out for Candor, Four, because you're a terrible liar." She says, echoing the exact words I said to her earlier. Somewhere along the way, we both managed to nestle under each other's skin and grow to understand one another through a different set of eyes. Nothing I say escapes her, and I smile because I am worthy of her undivided attention.

" Fine." I confess. I lean closer and scrutinize her expression which is unreadable except for a glimmering hint of amusement. The lines on her face flow like rivers intertwining in lush grasslands, lovely and graceful. " I watched you because I like you."

Crimson blood flows to her cheeks in a rushing wave; in a heartbeat, with a breath. It's funny how our bodies voice our thoughts before they even escape our lips.

" And don't call me 'Four, ' okay? " I add. " It's nice to hear my name again."

" But you're older than I am… Tobias. " She says, making sure to place an exaggerated emphasis on my name.

" Yes, that whopping two-year gap really is insurmountable, isn't it? " I joke.

" I'm not trying to be self-deprecating, " she says hastily. " I just don't get it. I'm younger. I'm not pretty. I—"

I can't help but laugh as if she's telling a funny joke. Younger and not pretty does not trump selfless and honourable and brave and beautiful. I brush a kiss against her temple and learn that it is the loveliest thing to kiss and to be kissed for no reason at all.

" Don't pretend, " she says, furrowing her brows slightly. " You know I'm not. I'm not ugly, but I am certainly not pretty."

" Fine, " I cave. All efforts of rebuttal are futile with her. " You're not pretty. So? " I press my lips against her cheeks. When I pull away, they're quivering faintly like I'm whispering in an undertone. I wonder if there will ever be a point in time when the touch of her skin stops sending electric shocks through me. " I like how you look. You're deadly smart. You're brave. And even though you found out about Marcus…You aren't giving me that look. Like I'm a kicked puppy or something." Like I'm weak.

" Well, " she says. " You're not."

My heart is thudding and I feel jittery because the few short seconds that we both remain immobile is enough time for my lips to find hers. And just before we kiss, the hint of a smile plays at the corners of my mouth. I hold her lips for a transitory, short-lived total of two seconds before I feel her tense up. I pull away, just slightly, to give her a second to gather herself.

And then we kiss again, more firmly this time and with no hesitation. I feel her arms snaking around me, forever encasing me in this moment in time.

I should be thinking about how risky this is and how the complications of initiation have just been kicked up a notch and how I may have just stupidly and recklessly painted a big fat target on her forehead, but instead, I am thinking about the way her head tucks perfectly on my chest, precisely over the spot where my heart is, and how the warmth of her body will feel when we walk along empty Dauntless pathways side by side.

All around me, the rushing water resonate with tales of euphoria and exhilarated happiness that echo through my bloodstreams and whisper words of complete and utter bliss and delight.

I have never felt more alive.