Anybody else loving Veronica Roth's Divergent playlist at the back of the book?
Thanks for the feedback. I'm just having some fun with this, but I'm glad people are enjoying it.

PART THREE

I walk out of the training room to break for lunch with Uriah, Marlene, and Lynn. That's saying something, considering most are limping. All the initiates practiced hand-to-hand combat this morning. I'm not sure why the leaders decided to merge the Dauntless-born group with the transfers, but we all train together now. We're spending more time than usual on each stage because it's such a large group. Obviously, the Dauntless-born are much better at this than the transfers. Most of them are more black and blue than skin-toned. But I know we won't have the home-field advantage forever. Lauren has drilled it into our heads that we can't prepare for stage two or three, and those are the tests that matter. For now, I enjoy it.

I walk down towards the bottom of the Pit effortlessly. Walking the paths on the precarious slope covered with jagged rocks is second nature, easy as breathing. I pause as we pass the tattoo parlour.

"I'll catch up in a minute," I tell the others.

"See you, Tris," Uriah says. They continue down, deep in conversation about the rankings.

Through the front window, I see him. The boy from Abnegation. I know now that his name is Tobias. He's quiet and meditative; I guess that carries over from his previous faction. He's done well, for a transfer. So far he's got a couple of wins and only a single loss. He's a better fighter than I expected. I've noticed Amar, the other instructor, taking particular interest in him.

Right now he's hunched over a chair, shirtless. I can see how his body has changed over the past week alone. Not as soft as he used to be. Heat rises in my cheeks, but I don't look away. Tori is leaning over him, latex gloves on, needle in hand. So the Stiff's getting inked. I'm insatiably curious to see what it is but I don't move. We haven't really spoken. He mostly keeps to himself.

I should have known that standing there, motionless and staring in front of the window, would draw his attention. He looks up, right at me. His dark blue eyes lock with mine, and I feel my cheeks get hot again. I turn away, feeling flustered, but I overstep in my haste and my foot nearly slips over the edge. Adrenaline shoots through me and I catch myself just in time. A fall like that would have left me broken or bleeding, at the very least. My heart is in my throat, my hands tingling.

I look up and see that Tobias has pulled himself up, his whole body tense, hovering over the back of the chair as if he was about to launch himself out the window and catch me. Very slowly, I start to rise. He watches and I can't tear my eyes away from his. For a moment, something like electricity runs between us. Then someone steps in front of me. I can't see Tobias anymore; our connection is broken.

I take it the extended hand, almost surprised by the kindness of the gesture. Then I realize its Eric, one of the transfers. He's already taken to the Dauntless life with devotion; I count at least five piercings on his face. In training he has single-minded, ruthless focus. So far, every single one of his fights has ended with more blood than necessary.

"Hello, Tris," he says. He knows my name but I have barely exchanged words with him. I have caught him looking at me in training a few times, though I can't imagine why. I'm not exactly pretty or developed. Definitely not the kind of girl that boys tend to look at.

"Eric," I nod. He still hasn't let go of my hand. I pull back uncomfortably, feeling off-balance somehow, and nearly trip off the edge again. He grabs my arm and smiles.

"I never thought you were clumsy."

"I'm not," I snap, steadying and detaching myself from his grasp a second time. Something about him sets me on edge.

"Are you going down to the dining hall?"

"Yes."

"So am I. Can I join you?" he asks politely. His voice is saturated with Erudite intelligence, the tone of someone who knows he's smart. I can't think of a way to say no civilly, so I nod and start down the path. As Eric falls into step beside me, I glance over my shoulder. Tobias is lying down again, but his eyes are closed. Something in me deflates.

I will the disappointment away. I shouldn't concern myself with him. Technically, he's competition. For that matter, so is Eric. I focus on my footsteps, careful, one in front of the other, and try to forget those dark blue eyes.