Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent. Veronica Roth does. The characters, as well, belongs to her.
This story takes place after Caleb and Tris's aptitude test. This is the real reason why he chose Erudite.
I got home with Susan and Robert from the aptitude test, worried sick where my sister was. She never returned to the cafeteria and Susan had no idea where she was. When we reached our house, though, she was there. Thank God, I thought to myself.
"Beatrice!" I said, "What happened? Are you alright?"
She looked startled but quickly recovered. "I got sick from the liquid that they gave us. I feel better now, though."
I could tell she was lying. I know my sister well, and I know that she always bites the inside of her cheek when she is hiding something. I better fish something out of her later. I narrow my eyes at her. She does not have me convinced.
She asks, "Did you take the bus today?" She's changing the subject. Must be something bothering her, then.
"Our father had to work later and he told us we should spend some time thinking before the ceremony tomorrow," Susan answers.
I smile sweetly at her. As much as I don't want to admit it, I had a tiny crush on her. Or a big one, rather, since she occupied most of the brain capacity in my mind.
"You're welcome to come over later, if you'd like," I say.
She smiles at me now. "Thank you."
I return the smile. At the corner of my eye, though, I see Robert and Beatrice exchange a look. They've been giving each other these odd eye contact whenever I flirt the Abnegation way.
Then Susan turns to leave. My eyes follow her and Robert down the walk. Beatrice has to grab my arm to startle me from my daze. It's a bit embarrassing, that she has to do that to get my attention. She walks back to the house and I close the door.
When we reach the stairs, I stop her before she goes to her room, and frown.
"Are you going to tell the truth now?" I ask softly.
She looks surprised, then an almost angered expression replaced it. "The truth is," she says coolly, "I'm not supposed to discuss it. And you're not supposed to ask."
She sounds smug and it almost annoys me. Almost.
"All those rules you bend, and you can't bend this one? Not even for something this important?"
Oh Beatrice, if you only knew. If you shared to me your results, I would share mine too, and compare. If they were the same.
She narrows her eyes at me. "Will you?" I was surprised, it's as if she could read my thoughts. "What happened in your test, Caleb?"
Our eyes meet and an awkward silence fills in. I don't know what to say.
"Just. . . don't tell our parents what happened, okay?"
I sigh inwardly and nod. She must be thinking about the sickness that she had in the aptitude test.
She heads to the kitchen and starts cooking. I help her. As much as I want to go to my room and lie down, I just help her with this one thing. It might be the last thing I do with her in this house.
We do not speak. We just work. The silence between us is tense, and neither of us breaks it. By the time our parents arrive, dinner is ready and the table is set. We settle down and prepare to eat.
My father asks Beatrice, "How did the tests go?"
"Fine," she answers too quickly. She can't be Candor, she lies to easily.
My mother joins the conversation and says, "I heard there was some kind of upset with one of the tests."
"Really?" My father asks. Beatrice fiddles with her fork awkwardly, but stays silent.
"I don't know much about it, but my friend Erin told me that something went wrong with one of the tests, so the results had to be reported verbally. Apparently the student got sick and was sent home early. I hope they're alright. Did you two hear about that?"
"No," I say and smile at her. It would probably be best if I didn't give my sister away.
We all pass food to one another and once everyone is served, we hold each other's hands and pray, thanking God for our meal. Once we're done, we start to eat.
My mother and father still keep up with the conversation. Once in a while, Beatrice buts in. I try to shoot her a look and mutter, "Beatrice." She keeps her mouth shut, then, by the end of the meal.
Our mother then ushers us to our rooms for we have a lot to think about. She is right. I still do not know my choice. So I obey her and just lay there on my bed, staring at the ceiling. It is when I hear a knock that I sit up.
"Come in," I say.
I am surprised to see my mother walk in. She shuts the door carefully, and silently. Almost like she fears that she will be heard.
"Now, Caleb, I need you to be honest with me. Is that alright?"
Odd. Something's off. I can tell. But I just nod at her.
"What were your aptitude results?"
I can't say that I saw this coming. My mother, Abnegation, asking me my aptitude results? Why? Will she try to convince me to stay? Or will she make me transfer?
"They were inconclusive," I answer anyway.
She nods her head in confirmation. "I thought so. Most Abnegation-born children are often like that, though we do not know why. Now, Caleb, what are your choices?"
She is trying to give me away then.
"Abnegation and Erudite," I say almost angrily.
Her face remains impassive, but there is a twinge of regret in her eyes. But why?
"Caleb, I'm going to need to ask you to do me a favor. It is important that you do it. It change our government."
I do not understand what she means, but I nod anyway.
"I need you to choose Erudite," she murmurs quietly.
I am shocked. She wants me to choose Erudite? But Father hates them! She's joking, right? But the look on her face says it all. She is serious. And my purpose there is important. So I nod again.
This time, when she speaks, she clutches my arms. "Caleb, just because I'm asking you to do this, doesn't mean I don't love you. I love both you and your sister very much, okay? I just need you to do this, if this is the last thing I do."
Her words make my eyes water, but they do not spill. My voice cracks when I say, "Okay."
She plants a kiss on my forehead and stands by the door abruptly.
"I have to go. Your father might be suspicious. Get some rest for tomorrow. Goodnight, Caleb."
Then she is gone.
And just because she says it, I sleep.
The next day, I get ready for the Choosing Ceremony. I am a nervous wreck. My arms and legs won't stop shaking. When I look at Beatrice, her face is a pale white and she's shaking, too. I frown. I have to be strong for her, my mother and father.
As we reach the building, my father gets off the elevator for a couple of Amity girls. Of course, we would take the stairs. I groan mentally as we walk the stairs. It is very tiring, and often we stop, but we keep going. And once we reach the level, I sigh in relief. Beatrice gives me a funny look but we keep going.
I skip whatever speech Marcus makes. My mind wanders. Should I obey my mother or ignore her plea? I do not know. The Abnegation part of me would choose Erudite, but the other half is stubborn and would want to stay. I would never pick Dauntless, they are ruthless and arrogant people and their leaders are worse. And I am unfit for Candor. Amity is another choice, but I will never seem satisfied if I choose their faction. My only choice is Abnegation and Erudite.
Marcus begins calling out the names of people I do not know. Maybe I do know some, but I ignore what they pick and focus on the moving line instead. Behind me, Beatrice gives my arm a comforting squeeze. At least I think she is comforting me.
The line goes quicker than I thought. Easy come, easy go, I grumbled. I am so nervous I can barely think straight. Where is Susan? Is she finished? What choice did she make? I suddenly regret not listening to the arrangement and the names, but it is too late. It is my turn.
"Caleb Prior," Marcus calls.
Me. He is calling me.
I walk towards him and he hands me a knife. His eyes meet mine and it's as if he's telling me, Choose wisely. I shudder and slice my palm with the knife. Blood drips down the carpet and I take a few steps before pouring it down on water, staining it red. Anguished cries and mutters are heard from the room. But I ignore them, as I make my way towards the Erudite.
My name is Caleb Prior and I am an Erudite. I made a huge decision that decides who I talk to, how to act, what I wear. I did this for my mother. This is the decision that changed me. This is the decision that will change us all.
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-Cheska
