Tobias and Tris: A Childhood Together

~4~

Tris POV

      I sprint back to the house. My mom hadn't known I was out. I know I told Tobias that she knew. If she knew she would've wanted me to stay and help pick up the house, preventing me from seeing Tobias.
      I check and the coast is clear and climb the tree that leads to my window. I kick off my shoes and get ready to lay down, the tiredness only now hitting me.
      My door opens and my fathers head is visible,"Oh, good. Your awake. Come downstairs and eat breakfast when your done making the bed."
      I grumble something incoherent as he leaves the room.
      I make the bed and stumble downstairs, trying not to fall. I plop down on a chair at the table.
      "Proper posture, Beatrice." My Mom says from the kitchen.
      I straighten my back a little and rest my head on my hands.
My mom sighs and comes over with a plate of food.
      "Hey, Mom, can we invite Tobias to have lunch with us?"
      "We'll see, honey. It depends on if we can get back in time after clean-up duty. Okay?"
      "Okay." I mumble.

Tobias POV

      I walk into the house, careful not to make a sound.
      "God damnit!" Marcus yells from the kitchen. A loud crash comes from him knocking something over.
I flinch but then realize it's not cause of me.
I peek into the kitchen.
Marcus is standing by the knocked down toaster, breathing heavily. His jaw clenched and his body rigid.
"Why does the stupid thing not work?" He grumbles.
Using that moment I tiptoe across the kitchen and head up the stairs.
"Is that you, Tobias?" Marcus calls from the kitchen.
I sigh, I was hoping to lay down and get some sleep before Marcus realizes he needs me for something stupid.
"Answer me, boy." He growls. I hear his heavy footsteps coming towards me.
"It's me." I mumble.
"Obviously. Come down here and help me with this stupid toaster."
I walk downstairs and see him standing by the counter, arms crossed. He was trying to look intimidating but the baggy pajamas ruined the effect.
"This thing is jammed." He smacks the toaster.
"Might not be if you'd stop hitting it." I murmur under my breath.
He glares at me,"What was that? Speak up, boy."
"Nothing."
He gives me a nasty glare then continues what he was saying,"I want you to fix it. I'll be upstairs taking a shower."
With that, he stomps upstairs and out of sight.
I don't really know how he expects me to fix it. It's probably just wants an excuse to be mad at me.
I get to work. I look at it and realize that the only problem is that the bread was caught under the edge. I adjust it and the toast flies up with a click.
I go upstairs and take a shower. As the water splashes over my head I think of Beatrice. Her sweet voice, her kind eyes, her feisty temper . . . pretty much everything.
All these thoughts run through my head, getting me excited for my lunch with her.