Part Three

Some of you are probably wondering when my next story will be up, and the answer to that is the 28th of August. It's eight chapters long. Hope you enjoy the last installment of "Book Girl".

"Goddammit, Zeke," I tell them, "I can't believe I forgot to ask for her number. I'm such an idiot!"

"Hey, man," he says, "we all were too distracted to ask for their numbers. Now none of us have any of their numbers."

I shake my head. "No, I have to do it myself. Maybe they'll be there today."

"Man, the odds of that are too slim. We'll probably never see them again," Uriah sighs.

"Oh, come on," Zeke says. "They play for the volleyball team. We could see them during school. Track them down somehow."

It's been a week. An entire week since I've seen Tris or this beach. The main reason we decided to return the following Saturday was that we thought there'd maybe there was a chance of seeing them again.

I really, really hope they're there. I've been thinking about her all week; she just won't get out of my head. I haven't been able to ignore her, either. I've tried. A connection like ours is something you can't ignore. We stayed until eleven o'clock that night just talking. The guys had to practically drag me away from her.

And out of those ten hours I saw her, 600 minutes, 36,000 seconds, I didn't ask for her number.

Idiot.

Yes, an idiot I am.

We get there at three o'clock, and there they sit.

Tris looks beautiful in her swimsuit while she reads and listens to music.

"Guys, guys, set the cooler down for a sec," I tell them. They do so.

I grab a handful of ice and run over to where Tris lays, and then I set them on her back.

Then a shriek.

"What the fuck?!" she yells and jumps.

When she see it's me, she starts laughing.

"You little shit!" she yells.

I run away, toward the ice cream shop, and she sprints after me.

"Eaton, you little…," I hear her mumble.

We reach the ice cream shop, and say, "Can I get you anything?"

She playfully glares. "I… You… Ugh."

I open my arms. "Does someone need a hug?"

She pokes my abs. "I bet you give the worst hugs ever."

"Wanna find out?" I ask suggestively, opening my arms again.

She smiles, and pushes me away, but I take the opportunity to pull her in and hug her.

"Tobias!" she yells with a laugh.

"Yes?" I ask her, as if I didn't know I was bothering her.

"Could you maybe let me go?"

I shake my head. "No."

She sighs and hugs me. She lays her cheek on my bare chest since I'm in swimming trucks and wraps her arms around my waist.

"Happy?" she asks me.

"Nope. Maybe just a little longer," I say as I laugh.

She laughs.

"Good hugs or bad hugs?" I ask.

I feel her laugh against me. "Good. Definitely good."

I release her. "Okay. Good enough. For now. Ice cream?"

She shrugs. "Sure. I'll just have a vanilla cone."

"Really? You're boring," I tease her.

She sticks her tongue out at me, and I do it back to her.

"One chocolate, one vanilla, please," I say when it's our turn to order.

I pay for the cones, and we go and meet out friends out on the sand.

It seems the guys have set up right next to the girls.

Not that I'm complaining.

"Thanks for the cone by the way," Tris says.

We sit down on our towels. Mine is across from hers. The guys on one side, the girls on the other.

Tris and I meet in the middle; she lays on her stomach and I on mine.

"So, Prior, I was thinking about you this week."

A little heat rushed to her face.

"What? No cocky remark?" I ask, mock-surprised.

She looks down, blushing even more. "Shut up," she mumbles.

"Anyway, I was thinking about you this week and I realized: I do not have your number. Which really sucks. Cause, y'know, I'd actually like to see again at some point. And somewhere that's not on a beach."

She smiles. "Tobias Eaton. Are you asking me out on a date and for my phone number in the same sentence?"

I smirk. "Would you be opposed to either of those things?"

She shakes her head. "No. I don't think I would."

I grin like a madman as I finish my ice cream cone.

"I have a question for you," she tells me.

"Shoot."

"What's the tattoo on your back about?"

"What's the tattoo behind your ear?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she chuckles.

"Well I only saw a glimpse of of it last week. I forgot to ask." I shrug.

She pulls her hair back into a simple but very—and I mean very—sexy bun. "Music notes," she tells me. "Small but simple. Shows my love for music."

"I like it. A lot, actually. So I know you want to be a teacher, but what do you want to teach? Music?"

"No, not music. It's going to sound stupid."

"Oh, c'mon, Prior."

She sighs, but smiles a little. "I want to be an english teacher. But mainly a writer. Teaching is a backup plan. I love it, but writing is my true passion. I, uh… I'm actually in the midst of writing a book right now."

"No way," I say.

She smiles. "I know, I know, it's dorky, but—"

"No, Tris, that's amazing. Really. I hope that dream comes true for you." I throw a sincere smile.

She looks down, smiling, picking at a string on her towel. "How is it that you're so nice and so absolutely handsome at the same time? And single? Oh, no,"—she looks up at me—"I bet you have a girlfriend."

I laugh. "No, no girlfriend. Maybe soon."

She smiles. "Are you sure? I mean honestly. How are you single?"

"I've been single for about a year."

Tris's eyes about popped out of her head. "What?"

I nod. "I guess I've just been looking for… I don't know. A girl that isn't like other girl. And when you are sitting there blasting your music as you read that book… It's like you were a magnet."

She smiles, most likely at the choice of my words. "C'mon, let's go do something," she says as stands up. "Anywhere. Out of here."

I smile and stand on my feet. "Whatever you say, Book Girl."