T o b i a s
2: 19 PM
+ + +
"Not a big deal, it's not that packed. I can find a parking spot."
My eyes gaze over the extended parking lot to the building, which is completely packed with vehicles and motorcycles. Although the yard has signs indicating that it's for staff members only, people park their cars and stroll off towards the shopping complex across the street.
"You can drop me off in front of the entrance," Tris states while smiling faintly, her eyebrows rising up in amusement that I believe that I can find a place to park. I roll my eyes, watching her exhale sharply while averting her attention to her phone.
I look at the digital clock engraved at the side of the dashboard, shaking my head, "you're not late, Tris. You still have five minutes."
"It takes me five minutes to get into the building!" She exclaims with wide eyes, and I can't help but laugh as I watch her try to contain the smile which is determined to spread across her face. Beginning to drive off towards the entrance, I constantly flicker my eyes towards her, watching as the afternoon sun casts a beam of light onto her cheeks, hazel reflecting into her long hair.
She's really beautiful. . .
Releasing a sigh, Tris bites her lip before turning her head towards me, a smile breaking out. Although, it was not initially the reconciliation that I was expecting, but just the fact that I managed to learn even one new thing about her brings a warm, sunny feeling to erupt within me.
"How old are you, anyways?" I question suddenly, causing her to look at me like I'm half delirious. Tris tucks a strand of blond hair behind her ears, her fingers tightening around each other, her fingers so slim that I can barely fathom it.
"I'm twenty-six, what about you?"
"Twenty-eight."
Silence passes in between us as time ticks off. The sign in front of us declares you can only stay in the idol zone for five minutes, and I have a feeling it might have been more than five minutes since I pulled into the entrance.
"Okay, well," She blurts out, her eyes jumping everywhere, "thank you, again. But I really gotta go."
I nod, unable to come up with anything to say except, "so I'll see you Saturday?"
Her eyebrows quirk up in confusion, my head suddenly spinning. A small laugh escapes her lips before she shakes her head. I feel my hands grip the steering wheel tightly, straining to not leap out of the car.
"Excuse me?"
Trying to not show how much I regret saying that, I shrug, "for painting, remember?"
Her lips tilt upwards, obviously masking how much pressure and panic is consuming her from her meeting. "Right. Painting. Saturday. My place."
"So-uh," I stammer, scratching the back of my neck as blood rushes to my cheeks, "what's your address?"
Pushing the door open, Tris peers her head outside, slinging her purse over her shoulders and for a moment I think she's ignoring me. Shutting my eyes, I lean my head against the steering wheel and try not to scream. Did I seriously just do that? For fuck's sa--
"Eighty-nine Crestwood Drive," Her voice chirps, just as the door closes.
Score.
A smile rises onto my lips, my face suddenly beaming.
Saturday can't come sooner.
<><><><>
The smell of freshly brewed coffee is so strong that it's almost nauseating.
My cubicle rests in the corner of the office, papers flying and fingers tapping against keyboards. Luckily the desk is closest to the stairwell, so if I ever need to leave, it's easy for me to simply get up without the entire staff noticing and asking me to buy them food.
Releasing a sigh, I pull out my phone, only to be alarmed when I see four missed calls from Evelyn. I grit my teeth, not wanting to associate with her, and ultimately betting on that decision as I turn my phone off before slumping into my grey seat.
"Eaton, why are you late?" A voice booms across from me, the unfamiliar sound of my co-worker, Peter Hayes, causing my ears to almost begin bleeding. I roll my eyes, turning towards him with a sarcastic smile plastered onto my face.
I nod once, "because, Hayes, I had a date." It wasn't a date. I'm fully aware that whatever happened with Tris was not a date, or at least I don't think it was. But just the thought of something in the world putting a smile onto my face causes Peter to become upset, and none the less, he frowns as the words leave me.
His eyes widen, a smirk written on him. "You're kidding, right?"
"No."
"What's her name?"
"Why do you care?"
"What is her name?"
"Tris Prior."
A few moments later, a loud laugh tumbles out of his mouth, causing the heads of some co-workers to turn towards us. Considering the fact that Inquisitive isn't too far from here, almost everybody knows her. She is, undeniably, one of the most well-known marketers in the industry.
"I strongly doubt that. She's too much of a, what's the word, a workaholic for you." Just the way he protests makes me grimace. Everything he does seems to set me off.
"Peter, you don't know anything about her," I reprimand with annoyance dripping throughout my expression. The faint stubble growing on his chin and across his jaw makes him look my age, even though he's a year younger than me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Shauna roll her eyes. The entire staff is used to Peter and I bantering, but I can tell that sometimes they find it irritating, especially when they're in the middle of a big project.
"Alright, but I do know that she makes a lot of money," he retorts, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Shaking my head, I look out the window beside me, watching the smoke exit the pipes on top of buildings. I hate him. I hate him.
"I don't care about her money."
"Tobias, shouldn't you, though?" He continues, attempting to drag out this conversation forever. Usually, I don't pay attention a single word that escapes him, but what he just said seems to trail behind me.
"What are you talking about?" I ask, my eyes, hopefully, showing a grand amount of coldness.
"Dude, you only make, like, forty-five thousand a year. She makes a good sixty at the least," Peter elaborates, causing a shiver to course down my spine.
Does he only care about the damn money?
"Peter?" I ask with sarcasm dripping in my voice, "shut up."
"For fuck's sake, can both of you just shut up!" A loud yell from Shauna erupts, drifting the attention of everybody in the room to turn towards us, "unlike you two, the rest of us are actually trying to work."
If she weren't the girlfriend of my best friend, who happens to work for Inquisitive Industries with Tris, I would easily reply with a quick comeback. But I don't want to insult her, considering she happens to be one of my closest friends.
Instead, I pass Peter a quick glare before turning my attention towards my computer. I work as an obituary writer for the city paper.
Yes, this job is the most boring and unamusing job in the world.
But I am good at writing; great, if I'm being honest.
Considering that Evelyn is the CEO of Inquisitive, she kept trying to land me a spot working for her, even working with her. But I declined every single time.
The last thing I want to do is have to sit behind a desk and listen to her commands, no matter if she's my mother or not. I don't want to associate with her, for God's sake, or her damn company--with the exception of Tris, who I gladly welcome.
Although my income isn't giant compared to anyone who works with Evelyn, I still have enough to keep myself financially stable. That's what is important, more than whether or not I enjoy my job.
Also, I do a good job at writing about people's death, as confusing as it sounds.
While idly typing into my laptop, I suddenly acknowedge the fact that I never told Tris about how I work for the newspaper. It is the most popular paper in Chicago. But none the less, it doesn't sound as glamourous as her job, which is the main reason why I never mentioned it.
I begin thinking about Saturday, when I get to her house and begin painting. I didn't even consider whether or not I had plans for the weekend.
The second she brought up needing assistance for painting her house, I eagerly volunteered. And to my surprise, even though I had to plead, she didn't say no.
I've heard the word no too many times in my life.
I've also heard the word stop too many times in my life, even if I'm not doing anything that requires me to stop. Fetching a coffee, talking to somebody from a rival paper, anything.
Sometimes I hate this place.
Some days I love it.
I just hope that nobody tells me to stop talking to Tris, because even though it's only been one date, I want to talk to her more and more.
a/n
hi guys!
i'm so so so so sorry for not updating any of my stories recently. like i mentioned, i was on vacation for three weeks so i had no time to write while i was in the usa.
hopefully this chapter makes up for it??
i would really appreciate it if you guys voted for this story for the @divergentawards in any category you want, because it would mean so much to me!
anyways,
a new update for White Walls should also be coming to you guys soon, as well. im justing waiting for pri to finish writing and then all should be good.
all is good.
but like school starts tomorrow so that's all gonna change.
bye guys!