My mother used to tell me stories of the Divergent. She'd say they were dangerous. That they interfered with the way life here worked. How the world worked. She said that the world is an oiled machine, working away. But the Divergent are rust. They stop the world from working properly, the way it's supposed to.

That's what I am.

I am rust in the world's oiled machine.

"It is important that you do not tell anyone your results."

Do you not think I know that? If I tell, it could result in my death, and I like living thank you very much!

"You have a lot to think about."

No shit, lady. It's not like I'm going to go home and spend my time thinking about boys or… whatever normal girls my age think about…

"Tomorrow," Tori says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Choose wisely. Your choice could be a matter of life and death." I nod. I hadn't actually realised how much I'm shaking. "I'll walk you out. You look…"

She doesn't have to finish the sentence for me to know. I look like awful. I felt myself go cold as soon as she'd said the words and I'm pretty sure I'm as pale as a ghost right now.

I took the bus home and I've been sitting outside my house for the past two hours, too scared to step inside.

I'm Divergent.

I can't believe this is happening to me. I trained so hard. I was so sure I was Dauntless, through and through. Or at least, that's what I've always told myself. I never considered the fact that although I love the adrenaline of danger; I refuse to be called a liar. I've never lied.

A car pulls up out front and the engine cuts out. Now I have to go inside.

My father steps out of the car, eying me curiously.

"Why aren't you inside, honey?"

I put on a fake smile. "Just waiting for you, is all." Not a lie. I was waiting for him to come home, because when he did, it meant I'd have to go inside and face my family. Yay.

We sit around the dining room table, eating a meal of chicken and potatoes. My sister's favourite. My sister, Siân, chose Candor two years ago. She's a natural truth teller, no ifs, buts or maybes. If she hates you, she'll tell you up front. She's also very beautiful. Her mousy brown hair falls to her lower back and her eyelashes are longer than most. I've always been the runt of the family. They're all so attractive… and then there's me: the blonde haired, lanky child who doesn't want to stay with her own family.

They all talk about their day. I may as well not be here. Father and Mother talk about the court cases. They're both judges at the courts here in Candor.

Siân tells us about the new clerk from last year's initiates that just started working at her firm. She's a lawyer. Just another reason to make our parents proud.

I don't say anything. I just watch. Listen. I know all their tells. When my sister is about to say something, she'll purse her lips. When my father is finished with discussion, he raises his eyebrows. And when mother wants something, she licks the right corner of her mouth. These are just small things I've picked up. Things that Charlie has taught me to look out for.

My mother looks over at me. Her tongue goes to the right corner of her mouth.

"Lauren, could you please clear away the plates?"

I look down at mine, which still has half a chicken breast and some potatoes. "But I'm not finished."

"Darling," my mother says in a more warning tone than before. She gives me a hard look and I let out a sharp breath, pushing back my chair and angrily collecting the plates. Siânlooks at me with a smirk. Bitch.

I walk into the kitchen and clatter the plates on purpose. It's a pet peeve of my mother's. I hear her sigh and I smile, a little triumphant.

But not as triumphant as I'd like to be. I'm still torn over what to do. Do I stay, or do I go? Do I do what I've been dreaming of for the past few years of my life, or do I play it safe and do what I know I'm good at.

I'm Divergent.

And that's all I know at this point.

"Lauren, can you please join us in the living room?" says my father, suddenly appearing at the door. I jump, clattering the plates a little more before nodding. He disappears again.

I follow the sounds of his footsteps into our black and white living room, in our black and white house, in our black and white world. The Candor's colours are black and white because that's how we see things. No colours of grey in between. Just the truth and what it is. And right now, me? I might as well be a big red streak through that black and white.

"Now, we know that you're not supposed to tell us what happened during your aptitude test," say my mother with her lip gloss smile.

"Yeah, we're supposed to keep our results to ourselves," I mumble, confused.

"We understand that, but you can tell us what faction you're going to choose," Siân says.

I don't know how to answer. They all look at me so proudly and it makes me sick. It makes me sick that they assume I'm staying somewhere I don't belong. I don't belong here. I belong out there. Jumping off the trains. Fighting to protect us. I can't be a lawyer, or a judge or any of those things.

"Dauntless."

My mother gasps and sister drops her glass. My father doesn't react.

"Wh-hat?" gasps my mother again. "That's absurd!"

"Is it?" I ask, beginging to become defensive. "Whenever I've told you I was going out, where did you assume I was?"

"With your Candor friends, of course," she says.

"Wrong. I don't have any friends in Candor."

"Then where the hell were you, young lady?!" my mother screeches. My father still doesn't say anything.

"I was training." I take a step forward. "I was teaching myself how to throw knives; I was running and building strength."

"So you've been lying to us this whole time?!" my sister accuses.

"No!" I yell. "I'm not a liar! I told you I was going out and that's exactly where I went!"

"You're not fit for Candor anyway," my sister spits, standing up. She walks towards the door but stops in front of me. "Why would you stay somewhere you don't belong?" As she walks past, she barges my shoulder, but I keep my feet firmly on the ground.

I can't stop the tears that have pooled in my eyes. My mother stands up, straightening her white skirt and keeping a stiff upper lip.

"Mum," I plead.

"Do not call me that," she takes a deep breath, composing herself and then looks me in the eye. "You are not my daughter." And yet her tongue goes to the right corner of her mouth. What does she want? Does she want me to stay? But I'll never know, because she leaves in the same fashion Siân did.

Only my father is left. He sits, looking at me as I cry. Then he stands and I can't take it. I can't have my whole family walk out on me. I just can't.

I move to block the door but he doesn't step forward. He simply looks at me.

"I knew, you know?" I look at him in shock. He nods, looking at his feet. "I was driving home late from work, passed the old warehouse. Saw you climbing." I try and determine what emotion is crossing his face but it's like he has a mask on. I can't read him.

He sighs. "I followed you, the next time you said you were going out." I open my mouth but he puts up a hand. "I know it was wrong, and I shouldn't have done it, but I had to make sure it was you. I watched you pull out some of your mother's kitchen knives and start throwing them at a piece of cardboard."

He lets out a small chuckle. "I remember thinking, 'God, if her mother finds out she blunted those knives it'll be hell at home'." He steps forward, puts his hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. "Not once did I think that you're not my daughter because you don't belong where we do. I can understand your mother is upset, but she still loves you, Candor or not."

I look at this man. This man I call my father. And I realise how lucky I am. He raises his eyebrows and I know the conversation is over. But I can't let him have the last word. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tightly.

"I'm not a liar, Dad."

I'm Divergent.