I'm really sorry I haven't updated in a while. I had to rewrite this chapter two times, which was pretty hard. Please forgive me and PLEASE review!

The gym is more like a rec center, with a rock-climbing wall, a pool, and a small gymnasium. But it also has countless workout machines and weights.

Christina leads me to the punching bags. They hang by a short chain attached to the ceiling. I choose one and punch.

"Put your weight behind it, girlie," Christina says. "Vent your anger."

"OK …" I say uncertainly, and give it a punch. It barely sways.

"Wow, Tris. How would you like to sign up for a workout class? You can build muscles and get more unspoiled," Christina offers.

I balk at first, then relax. "I don't know, Chris. I've never been much of an exerciser."

"C'mon, Tris! You can do it!" she encourages, and I just give her a glance.

Then I sigh. "All right, Christina. I'll do it. Do I like sign up somewhere or what?"

"Sign up here," Christina says, leading me to a table in the corner. A tall, athletic-looking college-aged girl sits behind it. She has short, spiky blond hair, electric blue eyes, and has an iPod shuffle clipped to her workout tank top, earbuds dangling from around her neck. She's also chewing gum noisily.

"Hey, Lemon," Christina says. "This is Tris Prior. She just moved here. She wants to sign up for workout classes."

Lemon looks me up and down, then sighs. "All right, Christina … Kravitz?"

"Yup. Carrie Kravitz's daughter," Christina says proudly. Lemon's eyes widen.

"Sweet! Man, I've heard you Kravitz folks have, like, a zillion Ferraris and Teslas and sweet cars. Mind taking me on a ride sometime?" Lemon asks excitedly.

"We only have one Ferrari, one Tesla, a Chevrolet, and one customized convertible. Not that special," Christina replies. "But I'd love to take you on a ride. But hey – Tris's brother has a motorcycle!"

Lemon glances at me briefly. "Eh. Whatever. A Ferrari, though? A customized convertible? Man, that is the coolest."

"Yeah, OK, whatever," Christina says, but she sounds pleased. "Can Tris sign up now?"

"Sure," Lemon says, reasonably deflated. "Tris, just fill out some personal home information on this sheet, medical info on this one, and other concerns … here." She taps a few lines on a separate sheet with a sharp pencil and gives me two other sheets titled Personal Home Information and Medical Information.

"D'you, have, like, a pen or something I can use?" I ask. Lemon rolls her eyes.

"Damn, you don't have to act so snobby," she mutters under her breath, but hands me a pen.

"I'm not snobby!" I exclaim, totally pissed. Christina grabs my shoulder.

"Sorry," she apologizes to Lemon. "We're working on it. C'mere, Tris." She drags me to the side.

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

"Look, our gang knows you, so we know you don't mean to be … well, mean." Christina hesitates. "But other people don't know you, Tris, so just try to act a little bit nicer when you talk to other people. For example, when you say, 'Can I have a pen?'" Christina mock-flips her hair "you sound kinda obnoxious and rude. Try, 'Sorry to bother you, but d'you mind if I could just take a pen there?'" Christina offers an "apologetic" smile. Then she shrugs. "See? Easy as pie."

I raise my eyebrows, totally annoyed, and Christina slaps me.

"See, that's what I mean! When you raise your eyebrows like that, it's like you give off this aura that says, 'I'm so much better than you and you better do what I want!' It's not cool, Tris."

"I don't get it," I say, and Christina just looks at me.

"You don't get when you're being rude? Wow, hon, we have a lot to work on." She brightens. "But that's why we're signing you up! Fill out the forms already, I can't wait!"

"What's so exciting, Chris?" I ask, and she smiles knowingly.

"Oh, nothing," she says, but clearly there's something she's hiding.

"C'mon, spill," I say, but she just shakes her head.

"What do you mean? There's nothing to spill. Now just fill the forms out!"

I sit down on a chair and write down my typical info – my full name, how old I am, where I live, what's my zipcode, who are my legal guardians … that kind of stuff. Then I get to the medical forms and it says, Have you been in the hospital within the past three months, and if so, for what cause?

I hesitate, and Christina looks over my shoulder. "Huh. Write, 'hospitalized by classmate. Arm damaged, but is fully recovered. No injuries remain.' OK?"

I write what Christina told me to, fill out that I don't have any allergies (seriously, why does a gym need to know your allergies?), and that I have no medical conditions. Christina snatches the last paper, which is for additional concerns, and writes, I have a tendency to snap at people and might cause a little trouble during classes. I am working to improve this, so don't worry. Thanks for understanding. She flourishes the pen and smiles. "There."

"Christina!" I exclaim. "That's forging!"

"Oh, so what?" she asks carelessly. "C'mon, let's give these papers to Lemon."

I walk over to Lemon and hand the three pages to her. She gives them a glance and her eyes widen. "'Hospitalized by classmate. Arm damaged, but is fully recovered. No injuries remain.'" She looks up curiously. "Do I want to know why a classmate put you in hospital?"

My lips tighten and I begin to think of a great retort I can make, but Christina jumps in. "Yeah, read the additional concerns."

Lemon flips to that page and reads aloud, "'I have a tendency to snap at people and might cause a little trouble during classes. I am working to improve this, so don't worry. Thanks for understanding.' Wow." Lemon nods slightly. "Christina, you wrote this, didn't you?"

"How did you know?" Christina replies sarcastically.

Lemon rolls her eyes in jest. "Who would have guessed? All right, Tris, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"All I have to say is that I just want to strengthen my muscles and it's really none of your business if I want to do anything else," I retort,a nd Christina grabs my shoulder again. I shake her off. (Shake it off, shake it off, mm-hmm! I never miss a beat! I'm lightning on my feet! Get it? No? Okay, I'll stop being a Taylor Swift major-fan now. Although really, who doesn't want to be? ;-) )

Lemon raises her eyebrows. "Some spirit, girl. Now get out of my sight; I have work to do."

Christina drags me away again, her perfect nails digging into my skin. "What the hell were you thinking?" she hisses to me. "After we just had a talk about being nice!"

"I'm not in kindergarten, Chris. Leave me alone," I say, and break free from her grasp. "Just … just leave me alone!"

I run out the gym as fast as I can. I think it's sweat first, but my eyes water and I realize that I'm about to cry. I brush my tears away furiously, panting as I run.

Suddenly, a figure steps in front of me. I stop abruptly and realize it's Shauna.

"Hey," she greets me. "I just saw you outside. You're in front of my house, you know. It's really late, like midnight. Whatcha doin' up and about still?"

I remember Susan. "Oh – nothing," I choke out. "I can't see the way back to my house. Mind if I come in?"

"If you hadn't asked, I would've told you to," Shauna says. "Lynn and my parents are asleep, though, so let's be quiet."

We walk in quietly, Shauna shutting the door softly behind me. She leads me up some stairs in the darkness and opens a door that's invisible in the dark to me.

"C'mon in," she whispers, and closes the door. Then she flicks on a light. I stare.

Shauna's room is painted a light blue, but you can barely tell that because everywhere is covered by boys' pictures. Not famous guys like One Direction people, but guys in our school – Will, Uriah, Zeke, even Peter, Al, Eric, and Drew. There are also some faces I don't recognize – but Zeke is the one who's mainly taped to the walls, probably because he's her boyfriend.

"Boy-crazy?" I whisper to her. She rolls her eyes and says in a normal voice, "Mom, Dad, and Lynn won't be able to hear us now. You can talk regularly."

I exhale in relief. "Great. Can you, uh, give me a ride home?"

Shauna shrugs. "What can I say? We're gang-sisters now."

I raise my eyebrows. "Gang-sisters? What's that supposed to mean?"

"We're here for each other," Shauna answers simply.

A figure emerges from Shauna's bathroom. It's Zeke. He's wearing boxers and a gray T-shirt. I look away, embarrassed.

"Zeke!" Shauna reproaches. "I told you Tris was here!"

Zeke rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Tris, glad to see you here! Why are you here though? It's late."

"Could say the same to you," I respond drily. Zeke smiles easily.

"Out at the gym," I finally answer.

"Christina?" Zeke asks knowingly. I glance at him.

"How'd you know?" I ask.

"Christina's a big fan of the gym. Hey, did you know Eric and Four work there?"

"What?" I ask, horrified. "Eric and Four? My two least favorite boys?"

"Aw, c'mon now, I go there too sometimes," Zeke says. I immediately brighten. Zeke is someone to look forward to when I go there.

"Great," I say.

Shauna smiles. "Hey Zeke, do you mind starting up my parents' car for me? You know where it is," she says. "Just heat it up – it's kind of cold, you know."

Zeke nods. "Sure. Wanna come, Tris?"

Shauna interrupts, "No, I think Tris can stay here. I'm gonna talk to her a bit."

"OK …" Zeke says uncertainly. "Text me when you're about to come down, OK?"

"OK," Shauna says, smiling at him. He leaves.

As soon as he shuts the door behind him, Shauna crosses the room and locks the door. She rounds on me furiously, totally mad.

"Don't think I can't see what you're doing, Tris," she spits, punching me. All her happy pretense is gone, and her eyes are shooting daggers at me, it seems.

"What? What am I doing?" I stumble from the force of her punch and cower.

"Don't play dumb to me. I'm not an idiot," Shauna growls. "It doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" I'm totally clueless as Shauna gives me another punch.

"That you're trying to steal Zeke from me!" Shauna exclaims furiously. "Don't think I didn't see you dancing with him at truth or dare! You chose his side without hesitating when him and Uriah were having that food fight! And I saw you blush when he showed up in his boxers just now!"

My mouth opens wide. "Shauna, I was embarrassed!" I yell back. "Zeke saved me from Eric, of course I feel some feelings for him, but not in that way" –

"Oh, don't make any excuses, I can see right through you!" Shauna retorts, fuming. "And I've seen how Zeke looks at you. He likes you, Tris! He enjoys having you in his company more than me!"

"That's not at all what's happening, Shauna!" I can't believe this. Then I stop short. "Wait a minute. You weren't there when Zeke and I were dancing at truth or dare. I didn't see you at all, and that dress you were wearing really stood out. Who told you, seriously?"

"Who do you think?" Shauna spits. "Lynn! She sticks up for me no matter what, and she wasn't afraid to let me know what was going on with you two! She's the only one loyal to me now!"

I can't help but laugh. "Lynn, Shauna? Really? And you really believed her?"

Shauna glares at me. "Of course I believe her, Tris! She's my sister!"

My mouth opens. "It's obvious she hates me, Shauna. Don't you think she blew it all out of proportion so you'd be totally mad at me? Didn't you think all this through?"

Shauna hesitates. "Well …"

"You know, I've had enough with you people," I say, totally frustrated. "I just wish Susan could be here."

"Wait, Susan? Your best friend from Maine?"

"Yeah, my best friend who was kidnapped!" I scream. "I'm leaving! I hope you're still driving me home, otherwise you'll have Caleb to deal with next!"

I storm out Shauna's bedroom door, tearing off a picture of Zeke from Shauna's wall as I do.

Uh-oh, someone's mad. Please review, folks! Not gonna bug you though.

Be brave.