Page 103 of Rules to Love By

TRIS: well fuck it, here

The next text was a phone number. There was an almost fifteen-minute gap, then another text.

TRIS: oh

TRIS: duh

TRIS: that’s Eli’s #

TRIS: obviously

TRIS: maybe obvo. The fuck. I’m an idiot. Anyway call him.

TRIS: or text him

TRIS: or something

TRIS: sorry sleep ttyl <3

Marcus chuckled. He’d forgotten how Tris texted like a bossy squirrel on crack.

MARCUS: Hey. Thanks, eh. I’ll…

MARCUS: Whatever. I’ll do something. Just thanks.

Tris replied almost immediately.

TRIS: use it.

MARCUS: I will. Eventually, I guess.

TRIS: hungry?

TRIS: did you sleep?

MARCUS: No and no

TRIS: shit gotta go. Got people here. On a Monday.

TRIS: fuckers

TRIS: gotta work

For a few moments Marcus considered, staring at the phone, then finally shrugged and replied.

MARCUS: Be right there. Find me an apron.

He didn’t wait for Tris to reply, but found some clean socks and a flannel shirt and hurried out to the kitchen.

“Hey.” He glanced around when he got there. “Where’s my apron? What can I do?”

“You don’t have to—”

“I kind of want to.”

“Work in a kitchen? Thought you weren’t doing that anymore.”

Marcus shrugged. “I don’t know.”

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