“Can you be a girl for a few seconds?""I'm always a girl" I frown."You know what I mean. Like a silly, annoying girl"I twirl my hair around my finger. "Kay.”

“My dear girl. I am his family. I am permanent. You are only temporary.”

“I'm not going to pretend to know what's going on with you," he says. "But if you senselessly risk your life again -- ""I am not senselessly risking my life. I am trying to make sacrifices, like my parents would have, like -- ""You are not your parents You are a sixteen-year-old girl --"I grit my teeth. "How dare you -- ""-- who doesn't understand that the value of a sacrifice lies in its necessity, not in throwing your life away! And if you do that again, you and I are done.”

“You know, most boys would enjoy being trapped in close quarters with a girl." I roll my eyes."Not claustrophobic people, Tris.”

“People tend to overestimate my character," I say quietly. "They think that because I'm small, or a girl, or a Stiff, I can't possibly be cruel. But they're wrong.”

“I left Abnegation because I wasn't selfless enough,no matter how hard I tried to be.""That's not entirely true." He smiles at me. "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?"He's figured out more about me than I have. And even though it seems impossible that he could feel something for me,given all that I'm not...maybe it isn't.I frown at him. "You've been paying close attention,haven't you?""I like to observe people.""Maybe you were cut out for Candor, Four, because you're a terrible liar."He puts his hand on the rock next to him, his fingers lining up with mine. I look down at our hands. He has long, narrow fingers. Hands made for mine, deft movements.Not Dauntless hands, which should be thick and tough and ready to break things."Fine." He leans his face closer to mine, his eyes focusing on my chin, and my lips,and my nose. "I watched you because I like you." He says it plainly, boldly, and his eyes flick up to mine. "And don't call me 'Four," okay? It's nice to hear my name again."Just like that,he has finally declared himself, and I don't know how to respond. My cheeks warm,and all I can think to say is, "But you're older than I am...Tobias."He smiles at me. "Yes,that whopping two-year gap really is insurmountable, isn't it?""I'm not trying to be self-deprecating," I say, "I just don't get it. I'm younger. I'm not pretty.I-"He laughs,a deep laugh that sounds like it came from deep inside him, and touches his lips to my temple."Don't pretend," I say breathily. "You know I'm not. I'm not ugly,but I am certainly not pretty.""Fine.You're not pretty.So?" He kisses my cheek. "I like how you look. You're deadly smart.You're brave. And even though you found out about Marcus..." His voice softens. "You aren't giving me that look.Like I'm a kicked puppy or something.""Well," I say. "You're not."For a second his dark eyes are on mine, and he's quiet. Then he touches my face and leans in close, brushing my lips with his.The river roars and I feel its spray on my ankles.He grins and presses his mouth to mine.I tense up at first,unsure of myself, so when he pulls away,I'm sure I did something wrong,or badly.But he takes my face in his hands,his figners strong against my skin,and kisses me again, firmer this time, more certain. I wrap an arm around him,sliding my hand up his nack and into his short hair.For a few minutes we kiss,deep in the chasm,with the roar of water all around us. And when 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.”

“My,don't you have pretty eyes," he says. "It's a shame the rest of you is so plain."My heart pounds. I tug my hand back, but his grip tightens. I smell something acrid and unpleasant on his breath."You look a little young to be walking around by yourself,dear," he says.I stop tugging, and stand up straighter. I know I look young; I don't need to be reminded. "I'm older than I look," I retort. "I'm sixteen."His lips spread wide, revealing a gray molar with a dark pit in the side. I can't tell if he's smiling or grimacing. "Then isn't today a special day for you? The day before you choose?""Let go of me," I say. I hear rining in my ears. My voice sounds clear and stern-not what I expected to hear. I feel like it doesn't belong to me.I am ready.I know what to do. I picture myself bringing my elbow back and hitting him. I see the bag of apples flying away from me. I hear my running footsteps. I am prepared to act.But then he releases my wrist, takes the apples,and says, "Choose wisely, little girl.”