"Moths,"repeats Will. "You're afraid of moths?""Not just a cloud of moths,"she says, "like...a swarm of them. Everywhere. All those wings and legs and..."She shudders and shakes her head."Terrifying,"Will says with mock seriousness. "That's my girl. Tough as cotton balls.""Oh, Shut up."
"What is it with you today?” says Christina on the way to breakfast. Her eyes are stillswollen from sleep and her tangled hair forms a fuzzy halo around her face.“Oh, you know,” I say. “Sun shining. Birds chirping.”She raises an eyebrow at me, as if reminding me that we are in an undergroundtunnel."
"Who cares about pretty? I'm going for noticeable."
"Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up. I've seen it. It's fascinating."He releases me but doesn't pull away, his hand grazing my jaw, my neck. "Sometimes I just...want to see it again. Want to see you awake."
"Eric called Al's suicide brave, and he was wrong. My mother's death was brave. I remember how calm she was, how determined. It isn't just brave that she died for me; it is brave that she did it without announcing it, without hesitation, and without appearing to consider another option."
"Okay. Then...I can talk. Ask me something.""Okay."He laughs shakily in my ear. "Why is your heart racing Tris?"I cringe and say, "Well, I...I barely know you. I barely know you and I'm crammed up against you in a box, Four, what do you think?"..."Maybe you were cut out for Candor,"he says, "because you're a terrible liar."