It was inevitable, Tris supposed, if she actually thought about it; it didn't make it any easier to stomach. Handsome men like Briar never spared her a second glance, if they spared her one at all, but at least she could assume it was because she was his sister and not because she was fat, or ugly, or both. She hadn't even realized she may love him until it was too late.
Now she sat silently in her room with an equally silent Daja, playing chess with her, playing nonchalance with her, while Briar was out romancing Sandry.
(Of course he would like Sandry, pretty Sandry with her merry eyes and little nose and soft white hands)
And if Daja pretended not to notice that Tris' heart was breaking for that street boy with his dark slow grin, well—Tris pretended not to notice that Daja would have bent over backwards to get their lady-sister to love her back.