“Al walks in, and I don't even have to ask him to help me, he just walks over and strips bedding with me. i will have to scrub the frame later. Al carries the stack of sheets to the trash and together we walk toward the training room. "Ignore him," Al says. "He's an idiot, and if you don't get angry, he'll stop eventually.”

“Do they have to be so public?” I say."She just kissed him." Al frowns at me. When he frowns, his thick eyebrows touch his eyelashes. "It’s not like they’re stripping naked.""A kiss is not something you do in public."Al, Will, and Christina all give me the same knowing smile.“What?” I say.“Your Abnegation is showing,” says Christina. “The rest of us are all right with a little affection in public.”“Oh.” I shrug. “Well...I guess I’ll have to get over it, then.”“Or you can stay frigid,” says Will, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “You know. If you want.”

“Al walks toward the railing. "No," Eric says. "She has to do it on her own." "No, she doesn't," Al growls. "She did what you said. She's not a coward. She did what you said." Eric doesn't respond. Al reaches over the railing, and he's so tall that he can reach Christina's wrist. She grabs his forearm. Al pulls her up, his face red with frustration, and I run forward to help. I'm too short to do much good as I suspected, but I grip Christina under the shoulder once she's high enough, and Al and I haul her over the barrier. She drops to the ground her face still blood smeared from the fight, her back soaking wet, her body quivering. I kneel next to her. Her eyes lift to mine, then shift to Al, and we all catch our breath together.”

“Let's go," I say. "Get up, Peter.""You want him to walk?" Caleb demands. "Are you insane?""Did I shoot him in the leg?" I say. "No. He walks. Where do we go, Peter?”

“You want him to walk?" Caleb demands. "Are you insane?""Did I shoot him in the leg?" I say. "No. He walks. Where do we go, Peter?”

“You look different." His words, normally crisp,are now sluggish."So do you," I say.And he does-he looks more relaxed,younger. "What are you doing?""Flirting with death," he replies with a laugh. "Drinking near the chasm. Probably not a good idea.""No,it isn't" I'm not sure I like Four this way.There's something unsettling about it."Didn't know you had a tattoo," he says, looking at my collarbone.He sips the bottle. His breath smells thick and sharp.Like the factionless man's breath."Right.The crows," he says. He glances over his shoulder at his friends, who are carrying on without him, unlike mine. He adds, "I'd ask you hang out with us, but you're not supposed to see me this way."I am tempted to ask him why he wants to hang out with him,but I suspect the answer has something to do with the bottle in his hand."What way?" I ask. "Drunk?"Yeah...well,no." His voice softens. "Real,I guess.""I'll pretend I didn't.""Nice of you." He puts his lips next to my ear and says, "You look good, Tris."His words surprise me,and my heart leaps. I wish it didn't,because judging by the way his eyes slide over mine, he has no idea what he's saying. I laugh. "Do me a favor and stay away from the chasm,okay?""Of course." He winks at me.I can't help it.I smile.Will clears his throat,but I don't want to turn away from Four,even when he walks back to his friends.Then Al rushes at me like a rolling boulder and throws me over his shoulder. I shriek,my face hot."Come on,little girl," he says, "I'm taking you to dinner."I rest my elbows on Al's back and wave at Four as he carries me away.”

“I have only one memory of getting here, and even that is just a single image: black ink curling around the side of a neck, the corner of a tattoo, and the gentle sway that could only mean he was carrying me.He turns off the bathroom light and gets an ice pack from the refrigerator in the corner of the room. As he walks toward me, I consider closing my eyes and pretending to be asleep,but then our eyes meet and it's too late."Your hands," I croak."My hands are none of your concern," he replies. He rests his knee on the mattress and leans over me,slipping the ice pack under my head. Before he pulls away,I reach out to touch the cut on the side of his lip but stop when I realize what I am about to do, my hand hovering.What do you have to lose? I ask myself. I touch my fingertips lightly to his mouth."Tris," he says, speaking against my fingers. "I'm all right.""Why were you there?" I ask, letting my hand drop."I was coming back from the control room. I heard a scream.""What did you do to them?" I say."I deposited Drew at the infirmary a half hour ago," he says. "Peter and Al ran. Drew claimed they were just trying to scare you.At least,I think that's what he was trying to say.""He's in bad shape?""He'll live," he replies. He adds bitterly, "In what condition, I can't say."It isn't right to wish pain on other people just because they hurt me first. But white-hot triumph races through me at the thought of Drew at the infirmary, and I squeeze Four's arm."Good," I say.My voice sounds tight and fierce.Anger builds inside me, replacing my blood with bitter water and filling me, consuming me.I wantt o break something,or hit something, but I am afraid to move,so I start crying instead.Four crouches by the side of the bed, and watches me. I see no sympathy in his eyes.I would have been disappointed if I had. He pulls his wrist free and, to my surprise, rests his hand on the side of my face, his thumb skimming my cheekbone.His fingers are careful."I could report this," he says."No," I reply. "I don't want them to think I'm scared."He nods.He moves his thumb absently over my cheekbone, back and forth. "I figured you would say that.""You think it would be a bad idea if I sat up?""I'll help you."Four grips my shoulder with one hand and holds my head steady with the other as I push myself up.Pain rushes through my body in sharp bursts,but I try to ignore it,stifling a groan.He hands me the ice pack. "You can let yourself be in pain," he says. "It's just me here.”