Captive - FourTris

Twenty-One

MARCH 14
6 MONTHS, 14 DAYS

I've been working on the sculpture for six hours. It's a little over half complete—half a heart. It sort of looks like some kind of weird bowl, hollow in the middle. I could probably fill it with chips if I wanted to.

But I don't have any chips, or soda, or anything. I've been working since nine o'clock this morning without stopping.

It looks beautiful, too. The glow of the lamp casts a mosaic splash of color across the table. I just wish it was further along. It's been hard to get the exact right amount of glue. Too little and it doesn't hold. Too much and it ruins the effect of the glass.

It has to be perfect. Each piece has to fit together like a puzzle. Like it went together all along, not like it's a thousand broken pieces.

I'm getting a headache from the glue fumes, so I decide to take a break and go get some lunch. Maybe a little fuel and some caffeine will perk me up enough that I can work for another hour or two.

I leave the house and jump in my car, holding the wheel with two fingers because it's cold to the touch.

I wind down the hills, the view of the ocean disappearing as I descend to sea level. I park near the front door of the grocery store and go inside, swinging my keys around one finger.

I'm in the candy aisle, debating between Reece's Pieces and Hershey's when Christina walks up to me. She's wearing cute bootcut jeans with electric blue heels and a hoodie with a big smiley face on the front. She used to hate jeans. She only wore skirts.
I wonder when that changed.

"Hey. Are you here with Al or something?" She stops in front of me, shoving her hands into the pocket on the front of her hoodie. Is she blinking a lot or is it just me? When was the last time we even talked?

I freeze, my hand on the Hershey's. "Al?"

She nods, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies me. "Yeah. He has a cart filled with junk food. I thought maybe you two—"

"He's here?"

Christina nods. "Yes. Cart. Junk Food. Are you following?"

I nod, debating whether I should just ditch the candy and dash out the door before Al finds me.

I haven't seen him since that day at the park.

If he finds me now, I know there will be questions. Lots and lots of questions. And Christina is here. God—the two of them together, they'll really lay into me.

I don't need the fifth degree. I just want some snacks and I want to go back home and work on the sculpture.

"Um, no, we're not here together. Actually, I just remembered something—" I start to turn away from her, but she grabs me by the arm.

"Don't lie." Her voice is quiet, soft, pleading. "Please, just don't lie. I get why you blow me off. I get why things have changed. But you've never lied to me. Just don't start now, okay?"

I nod, slowly, staring down at her fingers and her French-manicured nails. She releases my arm and I look up at her.

I don't know how she manages to be so understanding. I don't think I could do that, if the roles were reversed. If my best friend ditched me for a boy. But she gets it. Somehow, she gets it.

"Thank you. For ... for just being you."
She nods solemnly and takes a step back. "I'll go talk to him. Go pay for your stuff."

I nod back at her, but I'm frozen, just staring at her nose, a thousand feelings and thoughts swirling until I'm lost to them, and she grabs my shoulder and gives it a small shake. "Hey. If you don't want to talk to him, then go. Okay?" She sighs and releases my shoulder. "And Tris?"

I look up at her.

"If you ever need me or want to talk, or ..."

I nod.

"Good."

I just nod again and grab the Reece's and scurry out of the aisle, not looking back. Christina is a goddess.

And I'm just ...

I don't know what I am anymore. But I'm not who I used to be.