I catch myself thinking 'Thank God For This' out of habit, and then I understand what he's so concerned about. What if my parents' God, their whole belief system, is just something concocted by a bunch of scientists to keep us under control? And not just their beliefs about God and whatever else is out there, about right and wrong, about selfishness?

Everything inside me screams for just one more kiss, one more word, one more glance, one more.

What is wrong with you?' I shake my head. 'Pull it together.' And that's what it feels like: pulling the different parts of me up and in like a shoelace. I feel suffocated, but at least I feel strong.

I am his, and he is mine, and it has been that way all along.

Tris.” I keep staring. “Tris.” I finally look at him. “I just don’t want to lose you.

How is it I know this little about the boy who says he loves me-

If utopian fiction became the new trend, I wouldn't read it.