So.

This is what it's like to be sixteen, to officially-but-not-officially be an adult. Well, what I mean is, we're not officially adults and independent citizens until after the Choosing Ceremony and faction initiation, but generally this is the year it all happens.

My birthday was yesterday. And the aptitude test is tomorrow. I only have one official day of family bonding before I leave them. This whole thing, it sickens me.

I'm lying on my bed, staring at the yellow roof. My room is painted in yellow and orange, my favorite colors; which my mom and dad appreciate since yellow is the official Amity color.

I sit up in bed and stare at my hands, rough from baking I do day in, day out. I would be down at the bakery right now if my mother hadn't decided to give me the day off because I looked sick. To be honest, I feel sick. Sick of this whole faction system thing. Although this is something I can never tell anyone, because I am the only one who feels this way.

Everyone has spent their whole lives looking forward to this choice, the choice that molds the rest of their lives. I feel like maybe there is something wrong with me. Either that or there is something wrong with the rest of my faction.

I think I like the latter.

I smirk and shake my head. I could never be Abnegation, with that attitude. And I could never be Candor, the way I keep my opinions from the people in my world. But I know for sure that I could never rejoin Amity. It just isn't in me. Singing, laughing, it never did come easily to me.

And I never did learn to strum a banjo right.

I grin to myself for a second, then swing my legs over the bed and slip on my sneakers, then walking out.

-••—••-••—••-••—••-

I stop at the bakery, just to see if everything is functioning. For some reason, everything seems to go wrong without me. It's all in order, for the moment, so I go over to the basement door, just hungry for some company.

I walk down and see my older brother Parker (older by about eleven months) sitting at the table, reading a book. His glasses keep slipping off his nose and he pushes them back. I smile. "Hey, Parker."

He looks up. "Hi Peeta." He puts his book down and fidgets, tapping his fingers on the table. "What's wrong?"

"Does something have to be wrong for me to talk to my favorite brother?"

He looks at me over the top of his glasses. "Yes."

I grin. "Fair enough." Pulling out a chair, I take a seat. "So, I was wondering... How would Mom and Dad take it if I... Transferred? I mean, when Percy transferred to Candor, what were their reactions?" Percy is my oldest brother. Or at least, was. Faction before blood, right?

He looks down, suddenly interested in his hands. "I think they'll be fine. I mean, it's not like we've died, right? And it's our call! Our life. They can't tell us what to do."

I look at him. "What faction?" I say simply. I can tell why the question agitated him. He looks at me.

"Erudite," he says, looking down at his book.

And it clicks in my head. Of course. The constant reading, the constant interest in everything around him. He was made for Erudite.

"You?" he asks softly. I look away.

"I don't know. Just... Anywhere but here."

He nods. My brother understands. I knew he would.

"We can do whatever we want, Peeta. From now on our life is our own responsibility. We make the decisions." He stands up, walks over to me, and hugs me, slapping me on the back in an entirely non-Parker move.

I hug him back. "Our call."

He breaks away and picks up his book, grabbing his coat. "I'm going home. Want a lift?" Oh, yeah. My brother gets to drive the family truck around. He got his license two months ago.

I shake my head. "Nah. Got some things to work through. Go ahead."

I walk him upstairs, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Thanks, bro." I say.

"No problem, Peeta." Parker grins at me, tousling my hair so it sticks up in all angles like some electrocuted wheat crop.

I wait until I can see his truck in the distance, then set off in the opposite direction. I just need to think about my life.