When you finally got home, your mom called from the kitchen, “Your tutor’s already here! In your room.”

You rolled your eyes, kicked off your shoes, and trudged upstairs—ready to deal with some stiff, boring nerd who’d force you to do equations for two hours. But when you opened the door, your heart stopped.

“Hey,” Tris said casually, sitting cross-legged near your bed with a textbook and a calculator in her lap.

You blinked. “Wait… you’re my tutor?”

She nodded, grinning. “Yep. Your mom came to me last week. Apparently, I’m ‘approachable and reliable.’” She laughed and tapped the spot beside her. “Now come on, let’s get started. We’re doing math.”

You sat down, dazed. Studying with her was surprisingly fun—even if the math sucked. She was patient, sarcastic, and quick to call you out when you got something wrong.

“I’m so done with math,” you groaned, dropping your pencil.

“You forgot to add the digit,” she said, chuckling. “Nice try though.”

There was a pause. A stillness that stretched between you.

Your knees touched.

Her hand was inches from yours.

You glanced at her, and she was already looking at you. Something heavy and unspoken passed between you.

“I know I’m not your usual type,” Tris said quietly. “But if you want to kiss me… then kiss me. Because I’m not gonna kiss you first. So… do you want to kiss me?”

Your breath caught. You nodded—slowly, nervously—and leaned in. Her lips met yours, and the world fell away.

That night, one kiss turned into two. Two turned into more. And you spent the night tangled up in something soft and messy and beautiful with Tris, with her hands in your hair and her voice whispering your name like it meant something.

You didn’t sleep much.

But by morning, you knew one thing: Tris wasn’t like anyone else. You weren’t ready to call yourself anything—bi, queer, confused. But what you felt for her was real. And terrifying. And perfect.

—

The next day at school, you were sitting in math class between Abby and Ginny when Marcus walked over, dropping into the seat across from you.

“What’s going on with you and Tris?” he asked, smirking. “You two looked real cozy walking out of the arcade last night.”

Your body stiffened.

Abby raised an eyebrow. Ginny leaned in.

You panicked.

“Nothing,” you blurted. “We just hung out. That’s all.”

Marcus shrugged. “You sure? Thought I saw you holding hands.”

You forced a laugh. “No, you’re imagining things.”

Then Abby chimed in, pointing at your neck. “Then what are those?” she asked, her voice teasing. “Because those sure as hell look like hickies.”

You flushed. “It was a one-time thing,” you muttered, your voice low and sharp, almost ashamed.

The moment the words left your mouth, you knew you’d fucked up.

You could feel her eyes on you from the other side of the room—Tris, frozen in place, her expression blank. Hurt. And then cold.

She didn’t talk to you for the rest of the day.

Not in the hallway.

Not at lunch.

Not after class.

After school, you knew exactly where she’d be. You grabbed your bag and ran to Skater’s Alley, the old parking lot where Tris and her friends hung out, skating in wide lazy circles under the afternoon sun. It was where she first taught you how to balance, how to fall, how to laugh when you looked stupid. It was where she made you feel like you could just be yourself, even if you didn’t fully know who that was yet.

She saw you approaching and immediately skated past, ignoring you.

“Tris—wait,” you called, breathless. “Please.”

She rolled to a stop and turned, jaw tight. “Why are you here?”

“I… I wanted to explain.”

She crossed her arms. “You mean lie again? Or maybe say some other bullshit like ‘it was a one-time thing’?”

You flinched. “I didn’t mean that. I just… I panicked. I didn’t want people to know yet.”

Her voice cracked when she spoke again. “You think I don’t know what this is? You think I haven’t been through this before? Girls who kiss me in secret and then pretend I don’t exist in daylight? I’m not some fucking experiment.”