I close my eyes. I don't want to wake up and have to chose.

"Monica Postfoy!"

"Coming, Mom!"

I crawl out of bed and pull on ripped blue jeans and a white tee-shirt.

I'm a born Candor, but I am NOT spending the rest of my life here. You can't even tell a white lie around here to save your friends' skin. Education was definitely not priority.

However, I wasn't conflicted about what faction I was going to chose. Erudite was my obvious choice. Books galore! Technology! Opportunity!

"Monica...!" My mother's growl crept up to my ears.

"Coming!" I said.

I run down the stairs to face my mother, a plump, scowling blond woman.

"Monica aren't you going to wear the dress I got you." She frowns upon my jeans and shirt. "At least put on a nicer shirt."

I sit down to eat, ignoring her. 30 minutes, I think, checking my watch. Half an hour left.

"Monica!" My mom sits down across from me. "You will wear the nice white shirt from photo day."

"Mom, I'm 16." I put my elbows on the table and shove my cereal bowl away. "You can't control me anymore."

"I'm still your mother. Take your elbows off the table."

My little brother, still in his black PJs stumbles into the room. He takes one look at us and backs out.

"Tommy," My mother's tone changes. She loves Tommy best out of her three kids. "Come back in here, sweetie." To me she hissed "Go up stairs and change."

Instead, I leave my bowl on the table and walk out the door.

"Monica!" My mom shouts after me.

"Geez." I mutter, slamming the door.

I hop on my white bike and pedal towards Pelin James's 's, my friend's, house.

I reach their house and knock on the door. Pelin's younger sister, Remus, answers.

"Hi, Monica. Why are you here so early?"

I pass her. The James' mudroom is, as always, neat.

"Remus, where's Pelin?" I ask, turning on my heel.

"In her room, duh."

I go through the living room where Pelin's dad is snoozing. That's all he does.

I rap on Pelin's door.

"God, Mom. I'm waking up!"

I sigh. "No, it's me.

She opens the door, and I fall onto her soft, three inch white carpet.

"Ahhhh..." I exhale, leaving all the tension behind.

Pelin doesn't wait. She pulls me up, pushes her fiery red hair out of her face and sits me down on her canopy bed.

I finger the black lace. "Mon, why are you here?"

"My mom's a jerk." I flop backwards. She pulls me up. "Can I come with you?" "To the Choosing? DUH!"

I laugh. "Speaking of which, I'd better get dressed. Don't look." I close my eyes. "You can open them now."

Pelin's wearing black skinny jeans and a white tank top. The white makes her pale skin even paler.

"So, what were your results?" She wastes no time.

"Ummm...Divergent. Only two ruled out were Candor and Abnegation." I admit. Crap nuggets. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. But it's PELIN. I think.