I was eight years old when I realized there was no one kind of person in the world. There was exactly five.
Our city, encased by the towering boundary walls, our entire world. We had everything we needed, schools, a government and above all, protection from what lay beyond the gates.
My name is Amelia Garner, but Amy, to absolutely everyone. I was born in Erudite and have devoted my fifteen years of existence to fit the perfect Erudite mould, everything from my grades, to the meticulous creases in my trousers were to be proud of. My parents and I lived in the northernmost district of the Erudite sector, one of the furthest from the school and the laboratory both my mother and father worked at, They had a car and I walked myself to the train platform every day. Most of my schoolmates were dropped and collected from the front of the school by their parents in their gleaming chrome cars, but I liked the peace and quiet the train provided (unless the Dauntless were on board), and it was nice to switch my brain off for a while.
That was where he first spoke to me.
Our house was identical to those all around it, a white concrete cube centred on a square lawn, perfect little paths led from the street up to every front door.
I was in my final year of general school. In a little over twelve months my classmates and I would undergo the Aptitude exams and the Choosing Ceremony where we would decide our futures and progress to the specified faction further-education.
As we were all still dependants, our school was integrated between all five of the factions, mainly we split into our specialized classes, ours were sciences, advanced mathematics and computer technology, but for an hour a day we all combined for faction history.
Though we were social enough, Erudite children never really formed true friendships. I suppose we were raised to think relationships got in the way of progress and knowledge, but it really did get terribly lonely.
There's one girl in my class, Sonia, who would have to be my closest thing to a friend. Her parents are scientists like mine and we sat together in every class and during breaks. She is what everyone refers to as "perfect". Impeccably put together, polite, well spoken, outstanding grades, it's practically been common knowledge that Janine Matthews has had her eyes on her for years.
It almost makes me feel bad about myself whenever I compare myself to Sonia, even worse when my parents do.
"We're so proud of your test results Amy, I bet Sonia did fantastic too"
"You should invite Sonia around more often"
"Did you hear Sonia has already been recommended for the leadership apprenticeship program?"
There was no way I could compete with that, so I always just kept my head down and mentally kicked myself for not being smart enough.
One day after school, I climbed onto the train, still frowning about the B+ I'd just received in Biology (Sonia got an A+). I made my way down the aisle and plonked myself into an empty seat, kicking my bag under the seat in front of me; I turned out the window and prepared myself to stare into space the whole trip home. My mind wandered to the next few years, when I'd be no longer dependant. Would I be smart enough to work with my parents in the laboratory? Or would I be stuck being a daft receptionist. Even worse, I could be too stupid to pass Erudite initiation after the Choosing ceremony. Wind up factionless.
This is all too terrifying to even think about right now, I shake the thoughts from my mind.
"Is this seat taken?"
I jumped, startled by the voice right beside me. I looked up and saw him. One hand gripping the handles that swung from the ceiling, the other, clutching a stack of books to his chest. Eric.
He raises an eyebrow impatiently and I collect myself fast enough to slide closer to the window, he says nothing and swings himself into the empty aisle spot.
Eric was our next door neighbours son, a year older than I. He'd be just about to begin his final exams and Aptitude Test. Another text-book example of the perfect Erudite, his sandy blonde hair, just long enough to show that it was actually wavy, was almost combed neat, and his pale blue button-up was always ironed to exactness. You never saw him without a book in his hands; he was an unbelievably quiet achiever.
The train had started to build up speed and I returned to my blurry window scenery, extremely conscious of the carriages movement, brushing our shoulders together. A few minutes in, I realized how guarded I was, having him in such close proximity. How careful of my movements and breathing I'd become.
I dared a quick glance from the corner of my eye. I had just enough time to note the strong lines of his jaw and cheekbones, before he looked directly at me, brows furrowed. I hastily shifted my gaze out the carriage window beyond him, as if I'd just been looking at something interesting on the far side of the train, before staring back at my lap.
I felt his gaze linger on me for a moment more before he turned back to the front of the train.
What was with this guy? I mean, it's normal to be a tad unsocial in our faction, but Eric was something else. Not rude or anything, intimidating?
The train began to slow, my stop was approaching. Our stop, I realized, as he rose to his feet and jerked his head almost irritably to imply I stand and join the exiting queue in front of him.
I think I tried to pull my expression into the shape of something grateful, but I may have just blushed. I rose up out of my seat and gripped the side of the chair in front waiting for the train to finally stop, I could actually feel his breathing, warm on the exposed skin beneath my ponytail, I shuddered.
Once stationary, the crowd of Erudite began to file off, on the platform, some grouped off and some walked alone as he headed toward home in different directions. Dozens of us, like a tidal wave of blue-clothed ocean, begin to flood the Erudite streets.
I start walking toward home when I'm suddenly aware Eric is right beside me again.
"See you tomorrow Amelia" he says quietly, eyes locked with mine for only a second. Before I can even put together a response, he strides right past me and in the direction of our street without looking back.
I take a second to collect myself, frown and then follow his path, careful not to walk too close behind.