“Jack was behind it,waiting, with the corner of his lip pulled up in not quite a smile. "What?" he demanded."What what?" I asked.He held my note up in front of my face. "What do you remember?"Everything. But I couldn't tell him that. I shrugged and said, "Things." Then I made a move to leave,but Jack's strong arm blocked my way,his hand pressing against the locker behind my back."No you don't.You can't leave a note like this"-he waved the paper-"and then say 'things.' I want to know what, exactly, you remember."People in the hallway stared and I could feel my face going red. Jack noticed, and put his other arm up against the lockers,blocking me in. My pulse went nuts.It had to be visible on my wrists.Jack's face was inches from mine. His breath was minty, and I could smell the rustic scent of his aftershave,and whatever strong emotion he was feeling, it tasted sweet. I breathed it in, and the inhalation was embarrassingly loud.His eyes searched mine. "This is the first opening you've given me, and I'm not letting you get out of it." He paused. "What do you remember?"I looked behind him, at the curious spectators, and squinted my eyes shut, unable to bear the scrutiny anymore."Say something,Becks. Say anything.""You," I said. "I remember you." I kept my eyes shut,and felt his hands drop. He didn't move back."What do you remember about me?" There was strong emotion behind his voice. Something he fought to control.With my eyes closed,I could easily picture the other side of the century. "I remember the way your hand could cover my entire shoulder. The way your lower lip stuck out when you were working out a problem in your head. And how you flick you ring finger with your thumb when you get impatient."I opened my eyes,and the words no longer got stuck in my throat on their way out. They flowed. "And when something surprises you and you don't know what to say,you get a tiny wrinkle in between your eyebrows." I reached up to touch the divot,then hesitated and lowered my hand. "It showed on the day the coach told you you'd made first-string quarterback.And it's showing now."For a moment the space between us held no tension,no questions, no accusations. Finally he leaned back, a stunned expression on his face. "Where do we go from here?""Nowhere,really," I whispered. "It doesn't change anything."Eyebrows still drawn together, he said, "We'll see." Then he turned and left.I tucked this moment away.In the dark,dank world of the Tunnels, I would call upon this memory. And there would be a flicker of candlelight. If only for a moment.I closed my eyes,as if my eyelids were the levers of a printing press,etching the fibers into my mind.Memories were outside Cole's reach.As long as I held them,memories were mine and mine alone.”

“Say something Becks. Say anything""You," I said. "I remember you." I kept my eyes shut, and felt his hands drop. He didn't move back."What do you remember about me?" There was strong emotion behind his voice. Something he fought to control.With my eyes closed, I could easily picture the other side of the century."I remember the way your hand could cover my entire shoulder. The way your lower lip stuck out when you were working out a problem in your head. And how you flick your ring finger with your thumb when you get impatient."I opened my eyes, and the words no longer got stuck in my throat on their way out. They flowed. "And when something surprises you and you don't know what to say, you get a tiny wrinkle in between your eyebrows." I reached up to touch the divot, then hesitated and lowered my hand. "It showed on the day the coach told you you'd made first-string quarterback. And it's showing now." For a moment the space between us held no tension, no questions, no accusations.Finally he leaned back, a stunned expression on his face. "Where do we go from here?""Nowhere, really," I whispered. "It doesn't change anything."Eyebrows still drawn together, he said, "We'll see." Then he turned and left. I tucked this moment away.In the dark, dank world of the Tunnels, I would call upon this memory. And there would be a flicker of candlelight. If only for a moment.”

“Do you get it now,Becks?" Jack wrapped a finger around a long strand of my hair, and we were quiet as it slipped through his grip."You haven't moved on?"He chuckled. "I have a lifetime of memories made up of chestnut wars and poker games and midnight excursions and Christmas Dances...It's all you. It's only ever been you.I love you." The last part seemed to escape his lips unintentionally, and afterward he closed his eyes and put his head in his hands,as if he had a sudden headache. "I've gotta not say that out loud."The sight of how messed up he was made me want to wrap my arms around him and fold him into me and cushion him from everything that lay ahead.Instead,I reached for his hand. Brought it to my lips. Kissed it.He raised his head and winced. "You shouldn't do that," he said, even though he didn't pull his hand away."Why?""Because...it'll make everything worse...If you don't feel-"His voice cut off as I kissed his hand again, pausing with his fingers at my lips. He let out a shaky sigh and his hair flopped forward. Then he looked at my lips for a long moment. "What if...?"I bit my lower lip. "What?""What if we could be like this again?" He leaned in closer with a smile, and as he did,he said, "Are you going to steal my soul?""Um...it's not technically your soul that..."I couldn't finish my sentence. His lips brushed mine, and I felt the whoosh of transferring emotions,but it wasn't as strong as the last time. The space inside me was practically full again. The Shades were right. Six months was just long enough to recover.He kept his lips touching mine when he asked, "Is it okay?"Okay in that I wasn't going to suck him dry anymore. Not okay in that my own emotions were in hyperdrive. Only our lips touched.Thankfully there was space between us everywhere else.He took my silence to mean it was safe. We held our lips together, tentative and still.But he didn't let it stay that casual for long.He pressed his lips closer, parting his mouth against mine. I shivered,and he put his arms around me and pulled me closer so that our bodies were touching in so many places.He pulled back a little.His breath was on my lips."What is it?" I asked."I dreamed of you every night." He briefly touched his lips to mine again. "It felt so real.And when I'd wake up the next morning,it was like your disappearance was fresh. Like you'd left me all over again."I lowered my chin and tucked my head into his chest. "I'm sorry."He sighed and tightened his grip around me. "It never got easier.But the dreams themselves." I felt him shake his head. "It's like I had a physical connection to you. They were so real. Every night,you were in my room with me. It was so real."I tilted my head back so I could face him again, realizing for the first time how difficult it must've been for Jack. I kissed his chin, his cheek, and then his lips. "I'm sorry," I said again.He shook his head. "It's not your fault I dreamed of you, Becks.I just want to know if it was as real as it felt.""I don't know," I said. But I told him about the book I'd read on Orpheus and Eurydice, and my theory that it was her connection to Orpheus that saved her.”

“Jack,I've messed up enough of you life.There's nothing you can do about Cole.I'll handle him. You don't have to-""Enough,Becks.This is what friends do. Before we got together, we were friends, remember? The friendship is still there,isn't it?"I didn't say anything for a moment. It was so much more than friendship on my side. Despite everything,I'd never stopped loving him."Isn't it,Becks? I mean,you didn't completely forget about me in the Everneath,did you?""No." Wasn't it obvious on my face? That he was the only thing I remembered? My memories of Jack should've been etched on my skin by now, for all the world to see."Okay.Friends talk.Friends help each other."I nodded."Friends don't eat friends' souls."I smiled. "Got it.""Can I ask you something else?""Of course.""Why did you finally decide to tell me the truth?"I traced my finger along the lip of my coffee mug. "It's probably nothing, but Cole seems anxious to keep me away from you in particular. I wanted to see how he'd react, and maybe that would give me an idea as to why."He grimaced. "I have an idea.""What?""He's in love with you."I wrinkled my forehead. "No he's not. He's not capable."Jack leaned forward. "Trust me, Becks. I know exactly what loving you looks like on a person.And he loves you."My face went warm and I looked away. If only Jack were talking about now,and not before. I shook my head. "There has to be something more to it."Jack put his chin on the palm of his hand. "Well,let's find out.""How?"Jack raised his eyes to meet mine, a shy little smile on his face, so different from his usual confident grin. "We'll spend time together. And let Cole know it.”

“Jack took me to the Christmas Dance.It snowed the day of the dance, making the Meier Farmhouse and Dance Hall look like something out of a painting, the lights on the roof glowing under sheets of white. And when Jack led me onto the dance floor and grasped one of my hands and tugged it up behind his neck, then placed his arm around my back, soft and low, I thought life couldn't get better.He pulled me close against him, our hands clasped next to his chest.The cedar from the farmhouse mingled with Jack's aftershave,making a sweet, rustic scent."Becks,remember the first time we met?" he asked,his lips grazing my ear.Of course I remembered. The events of that day were permanently etched into my brain. "You mean,the time you nearly beheaded me with a baseball?""I had to do something to get the new girl's attention.""A simple 'hello' would have worked."He pulled me in tighter, as if that were possible. "Why did we wait so long to do this?""Um, because you were making your way through the entire cheerleading squad?"He looked at me for a few moments, then shook his head and leaned in to brush his lips along my shoulder.I closed my eyes. If this was what I could expect for the rest of my high school years,I never wanted to graduate.Ever.”

“He wanted you to be the small, quiet girl from Abnegation," Four says softly. "He hurt you because your strength made him feel weak. No other reason."I nod and try to believe him."The others won't be as jealous if you show some vulnerability. Even if it isn't real.""You think I have to pretend to be vulnerable?" I ask, raising an eyebrow."Yes,I do." He takes the ice pack from me, his fingers brushing mine, and holds it against my head himself. I put my hand down, too eager to relax my arm to object. Four stands up. I stare at the hem of his T-shirt.Sometimes I see him as just another person, and sometimes I feel the sight of him in my gut, like a deep ache."You're going to want to march into breakfast tomorrow and show your attackers they had no effect on you," he adds, "but you should let that bruise on your cheek show, and keep your head down."The idea nauseates me."I don't think I can do that," I say hollowly. I lift my eyes to his."You have to.""I don't think you get it." Heat rises into my face. "They touched me."His entire body tightens at my words, his hand clenching around the ice pack. "Touched you," he repeates, his dark eyes cold."Not...in the way you're thinking." I clear my throat. I didn't realize when I said it how awkward it would be to talk about. "But...almost."I look away.He is silent and still for so long that eventually,I have to say something."What is it?""I don't want to say this," he says, "but I feel like I have to.It is more important for you to be safe than right, for the time being. Understand?"His straight eyebrows are drawn low over his eyes. My stomach writhes, partly because I know he makes a good point but I don't want to admit it, and partly because I want something I don't know how to express; I want to press against te space between us until it disappears.I nod. "But please,when you see an opportunity..." He pesses his hand to my cheek,cold and strong, and tilts my head up so I have to look at him. His eyes glint. They look almost predatory. "Ruin them."I laugh shakily. "You're a little scary, Four.""Do me a favor," he says, "and don't call me that.""What should I call you,then?""Nothing." He takes his hand from my face. "Yet.”