Chapter One


I don't own Divergent!

[Tris]


If it weren't for the subtle pounding at the back of my head, I wouldn't turn my head to the side when my mom tells me today culinary classes begin. Yet, the low aching thump continues so she is completely oblivious to my head's condition.

"Beatrice, sweetheart, you need to wake up," my mother calls out.

Her voice sounds muffled to my ears.

"My head is on fire," I moan softly.

"Hmm where does it hurt, Bea?" She asks sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Everywhere," I respond, the thrumming quickening.

The feeling was there yesterday, the rushing of blood, the progressively aching headache. And today was my first day of culinary school.

I fight the urge to moan because if I missed school today I was going to be behind tomorrow. I couldn't afford for that to happen.

My mother's cool fingers dance across my forehead swiping gently across my blush-blood stained cheeks.

I would miss the Choosing Ceremony—although I've heard there is more or less no difference in attending or not.

"I think you're sick Bea, you have to stay home," my mother says pulling the blankets up so they encase my small frame.

"Mom I'm going to be so behind tomorrow," I say my eyes pleading for a way to somehow work something out about the arrangements.

She's already retrieved a thermometer.

"I'll call the school, tell them you'll miss the ceremony. Caleb can tell the office also," she says, her voice lulling, calming. "And don't worry, I remember it was all introductions. You won't be behind."

My mother, being an Abnegation chef is selfless. She and my father both went to The Faction School of Culinary Arts when they were my age.

They both are cooks although not internationally famous because Abnegation people aren't famous; they project outward and provide people the simple pleasure of cooked meals. The school was the most famous and prestigious culinary school in Illinois.

"Sleep Beatrice, I'll bring you some soup later." With that said my mother walks out of the room leaving a cold trail of air in her wake.

I was missing the Choosing Ceremony in which I would be able to select the faction I would like to join; Abnegation, Amity, Candor, Erudite, or Dauntless. My parents expected Caleb, my brother, and I to choose Abnegation, but I don't think I wanted a life of selfless culinary works. My brother would choose today, but I would choose tomorrow.


"Beatrice, Beatrice hey Bea!" I hear my name shouted out. A sharp chastisement follows the voice that exclaimed my name.

"I'm sorry mom. It was selfish of me to yell," Caleb my brother says his voice louder, closer to me.

The throbbing has died down to an ache after it reached its peak sometime in the afternoon. I was going to school tomorrow no matter what. I wasn't missing selecting my faction again. My door creaks open allowing unwanted light to flood in burning my darkness-adjusted eyes.

"Hey Bea," Caleb says his green eyes flicking around my room, most likely attempting the same task mine were seconds ago.

"Hey Caleb," I croak propping myself up with my elbows jutted out to the side.

"I chose Erudite," he says suddenly. His eyes are nervously flickering to me as if I will reprimand him for choosing a faction other than Abnegation.

After my initial shock of Caleb's choice, I answer. "What'd Mom and Dad say?"

"Mom was fine. She said if it made me happy then she was happy. Dad sort of bit his lip and looked away. I hope he isn't mad…" Caleb trails off.

My father has always quietly disapproved of the Erudite in a manner only an Abnegation man would.

Caleb doesn't elaborate on the topic and even though I am itching to know, I don't ask. I know the basis of what happens though. The factions each hold a selected and separate virtue. Abnegation the selfless, Erudite the intelligent, Dauntless the brave and courageous, Amity the friendly and peaceful, and Candor the honest. The factions were separated at school and taught separately.

I don't know how I would pick my faction tomorrow because I wasn't present for the ceremony, but I hoped I knew the answer to which faction I would choose because I had no idea now.

I wonder then if I wouldn't choose Abnegation as my brother hadn't. It never has seemed to suit me.


I wake up with a clear head and a nervous tinge in my arms making my blood electric. "Are you feeling alright Bea?" my mother's voice threads across the room lying stagnant in the air when I don't respond immediately.

"Yes, I'm fine," I reply widening my eyes and yawning once.

"Be down in ten minutes so you can go. Don't want to be late again!" my mother says giving me a knowing smile.

I smile back lightly making a beeline for my bathroom. Instead of dressing the normal dull grey Abnegation attire I find some black Dauntless clothing at the very corner of my closet. I made up my mind last night that I wasn't going to stay in Abnegation. I pray that my parents won't be cross with the idea.

My tee shirt is black with a small quote on it that I don't take time to read and my jeans are dark blue on the verge of black. I twist my dull blonde hair into a shiny knot on the top of my head and grab my backpack.

The Faction School of Culinary Arts was a sort of boarding school because after the choosing ceremony, you remained in the dorms on campus. Mom already had my suitcase taken to the school with Caleb the day before seeing, as I was sick.

"Mom, can we please go?" Caleb asked as his eyes skim my black clothing.

"Yes, Caleb we're leaving right now."

My navy blue backpack is slung over my back with my culinary books and other culinary arts subject textbooks. We bid our father goodbye, his eyes almost predictive as if he knows my choice, and scamper out of the door, anxious for my first day.

He doesn't say a word to Caleb.

"Remember, Beatrice, I love you no matter what faction you choose. Choose wisely," my mother says her eyes kind. My heart stutters in a way I only know to signify nervousness.

"I will."

Caleb, as it appears, has no trouble bidding our mother goodbye and something inside me wishes he would not be so perfect.

I immediately regret thinking the thought.

When I arrive in what seems to be an underground compound, I wonder how my mother would know to bring me to this certain building. It looks so... Dauntless.

"Excuse me sir I was sick yesterday. Could you possibly tell me how to choose my faction?" I ask the man at the counter of the office.

"Call me Bud, and yes ma'am go talk to Tori back there and she'll give you instructions.

The man, Bud, points to a woman with dark hair and a few tattoos poking out through her black Dauntless shirt standing in the corner sorting papers. I walk toward the woman and she starts talking instantly.

"Welcome," the woman, Tori, says. "Dauntless I'm guessing?"

Without prior thought, I shake my head yes.

Dauntless.

Maybe she attributed it to my black clothing, the symbol of the Dauntless.

"The dorms are that way, the instructors should be there to direct you," Tori says pointing at the hall left of me.

"Thank you."

I breathe in once and exhale slightly. I would learn to be a chef, just as my parents had, except I would be Dauntless.

"Hey," a tall, dark skinned and pretty girl says next to me.

"Hi." I respond holding in my shriek and only projecting it inward. She almost scared me half to death.

"My name is Christina; I didn't see you yesterday at the ceremony. I suppose you're Dauntless also?" she says quickly.

"I'm Beatrice, I was sick yesterday… I—yes I am Dauntless," I say.

I notice she is rolling a suitcase. She probably didn't bring her clothing yesterday.

"Oh this?" she says jutting her head toward the bright pink striped suitcase she carries. "I couldn't bring this today because my hands were full with my other suitcase."

"How many suitcases did you bring," I ask my eyebrows risen.

"Four and a bag," she says nonchalantly.

"That's absolutely insane," I say laughing. The words taste odd in my mouth, but not bad, odd in a good kind of new way.

She laughs with me while we make our way to the dorms. We walk in and Christina points out all the Dauntless I'll be learning with. Peter—the dark haired boy, Molly, Uriah, Marlene, Al, Will, Drew, Edward, Myra and Lynn.

Two older young men stand in the corner of the dorm watching us with an air of superiority. One has dark hair, greasy as if he specifically wanted it that way. With multiple piercings in his lip, his look is painfully superior as if his sole purpose is to say he is the better person.

The Dauntless aura makes me shiver.

The other young man looks different, though not differing on the Dauntless demeanor. His hair is short, dark brown hair. From quick observation: a spare upper lip and full lower lip, and dark blue eyes with patches of lighter blue.

It is a dreaming, sleeping, waiting color. His eyes are so deep-set that his eyelashes touch under the skin of his eyebrows.

"Another initiate?" the older boy with piercings asks.

"What's your name?" the blue-eyed boy asks. He sees my conflicted look and slightly smiles.

Beatrice just doesn't sound Dauntless. Dauntless in the way of black clothing, colorful tattoos, and multiple piercings. I nod at the boy with multiple piercings and think of a new name.

"You can only choose once," his opposite says.

"Tris," I say confidently hoping Christina will make no comment on my newfound name.

"Tris," he says cocking his head his eyes thoughtful. "Welcome to Dauntless."


A/N: New fanfic! I was having some writers-block on the Saving Camp Faction so I decided to clear my mind by writing a bit of different fanfiction. A shoutout to my bro because he gave me the idea! Please Read & Review! If you have any ideas for SCF please do tell.

Can you guys do me a favor? (especially my non-American readers) The Allegiant Tour is still going on and I would be grateful if you could go vote for Texas? Please? It's quite easy actually, just look up Allegiant Tour voting and you'll find it fairly quickly. Thank you in advance.