I Feel Myself Acting Like

Politeness Is Deception In Pretty Packaging.

The Only Reason I Haven't Shot You Yet Is Because He's The One Who Should Get To Do It," I Say. "stay Away From Him Or I'll Decide I No Longer Care.

I Wish I Could Say I Felt Guilty For What I Did. I Don't.

You Nearly Died Today,' He Says. 'i Almost Shot You. Why Didn't You Shoot Me, Tris?' 'i Couldn't Do That,' I Say. 'it Would Have Been Like Shooting Myself.' He Looks Pained And Leans Closer To Me, So His Lips Brush Mine When He Speaks.

His Eyes Search The Crowd Until They Find My Face. My Heartbeat Lives In My Throat; Lives In My Cheeks. "i Still Don't Understand," He Says Softly, "how She Knew That It Would Work.