Chapter 27

The next morning, when I lumbered into the training room, wiping sleep from my eyes, a series of large target stands greeted me at one of the farthest ends of the room. Next them, there was a large table with knives strewn across it. Relief flooded through me; I'd woken up all achy and slightly bruised from the fall off the coaster. Target practice would be a nice change, no real pain involved, and would give me time to recuperate.

Amar stood in the center of the room, his posture attentive and ready to go. When he saw that we'd all filed in, he addressed us in a sharp tone. "Tomorrow is the last day of stage one. You will continue fighting then. Today, however, you'll all be learning how to aim. Now, everyone go and pick up three knives."

I didn't have to be told twice; breaking into a light jog, I grabbed the daggers and then got back in line.

"Pay close attention now, I'm going to demonstrate the correct technique for throwing them, and I expect you to pick up the skill quickly."

I watched Amar as his arm flicked and the dagger went flying, hitting the target each time. It seemed easy enough, all I needed to really practice was my stance. When he was done, he ordered us to practice.

Attempting to mimic his moves, I practiced a few times, without ever actually letting go of the knife, and then when I felt confident, let it go. It spun, over and over, and in the end slammed into the board close to the bull's-eye. Whether it was just luck, or good aim, I didn't care. Using the confidence it'd given me to hit the target, I continued until I was hitting the mark each time.

Surprisingly, I was happy to see that Grace was also hitting the center of her board each time. While her fighting had definitely improved with the after-hours training, she still had work to do if she wanted to raise her rank. It was nice to see that she was excelling at something naturally and without the need for tutoring.

When I caught her eye, she grinned and we nodded in unison. Gathering our knives, we counted down and then flung our knives in quick succession. Though both of us had gotten each dagger to stick, it was Grace who had the better marksmanship.

I laughed as she bounced on her feet, stopped, and then just grinned childishly.

"Impressive," I said as we walked to the board to retrieve our weapons.

"Thanks," she blushed. "I'm glad I'm good at something other than being a punching bag."

I analyzed her target; each knife tip clustered at the very center, and let out a low whistle. "Seriously, that's amazing. I'm jealous actually."

She gave the tiniest squeal of joy, a habit that was slowly disappearing as the days passed, and bounced on her toes with excited energy. It was as we were turning to head back to our spot in line that something caught my eye.

A tattoo, small and delicate, was adorning the underside of her right wrist. How had I not noticed it before?

"When did you get that?" I asked, as I fiddled with my knives.

She peeked down at her arm, showing me that the swirling lines were actually an abstract sort of flower. "This morning actually, I got up early and went by myself."

"Alone?" I asked, throwing a dagger when Amar passed by. "Why? I mean, you don't have to have a babysitter or anything, but I could've gone with you if you'd wanted."

Grace smiled and threw a knife. "Yeah, I know you would've, it's just-", she sighed and then shrugged a little, "-I just needed to do it alone. I want to belong here, in dauntless, and I can't have you and Dan always acting like bodyguards."

I nodded, understanding just where she was coming from. She'd been definitely gaining confidence, actually winning a fight or two, and I had to admit I was incredibly proud. She was slowly, but surely, changing, and for the good. No longer did she gape in horror at the violence around her. Well, it's not to say it didn't bother her, but at least she was able to disguise it better. Her thin willowy limbs had gradually grown strong, and when she spoke she wasn't afraid to do so in a loud manner.

"You do belong here." I said. "And I know you can definitely take care of yourself. But, you know, if you ever do need help, don't hesitate to ask."

Grace smiled widely, expressing every sentiment she felt with the gesture; this was still an amity remnant she couldn't hide, but I had to admit I wouldn't mind if it never disappeared. In a place like this, it was nice to see a ray of sincere happiness.

"It's a daisy," she mentioned as she continued to perfect her aim.

"What?"

"The flower, it's a daisy," Grace repeated.

"Did you have a lot of those in amity?" I asked, figuring that was the reason she'd gotten it; maybe she missed home and wanted a memento to remember it.

"Yes," she paused, "but that's not why I got it."

I was curious, but I felt like we were heading towards more personal territory and didn't want to pry. "Oh," I said finally, suppressing my curiosity.

"My mom," she said after a few moments.

I raised a brow, and then realized she must've read my expression and wanted to explain. "You don't have to tell me if don't want to."

She nodded, but spoke anyway. "My mom's name was Daisy, she died a few days before the choosing ceremony." She flung her knife, almost in an angry fashion which surprised me, and continued quietly. "Before she died, she told me to be myself, to have faith and courage in everything I did. When I got dauntless results, I honestly didn't think I'd pick it. But when I saw you transfer-" she smiled at a memory, "-I knew, I had a sense of complete conviction, that you'd help me."

I felt humbled by her words, and I didn't know what to say. Her words were thick with meaning. And though I felt her gratitude, I also sensed that she wanted to say something else but was holding back.

"It's nice," I finally managed to say. "The tattoo, it's a really sweet thing to do for your mom."

Grace nodded, and then the topic changed and the air was once again light and playful. It felt like a facade though, what wasn't she telling me? We continued to practice, and then when our time was up and Amar had released us, decided to get something to eat.

We made our way to the dining hall, and found that the table we'd used before was again mostly empty. Shoveling food into my mouth, Dan and I engaged in our lifelong struggle to prove who could eat more while Grace and Carla shook with laughter at our antics.

"I see much hasn't changed," Carla chuckled as she picked at her food. A strange and almost sad look spread over her features, and I wondered what had put that expression there.

"What do you mean?" Dan asked through a mouthful.

"I mean you two were just like this in school, or at least every time I saw you." She flicked a pea in my direction. "Always playful and sort of competitive, it's just nice to see you haven't altered your personalities… yet."

"Yet? Why would we?" I asked, though I thought I understood a little of what she meant. Billy and his lackeys, Samantha and Howard, were acting in a way that would've never been socially acceptable in their old factions. Here, they'd done a complete one-eighty and become a real nuisance.

Carla shared a look with Grace, and I was bothered by the fact that I thought I recognized the mood behind their eyes. With Grace, it was the same one she'd given me during training. Carla sighed, and then answered in a serious and logical manner.

"To fit in obviously. You can't be oblivious to the fact that hanging out with us is detrimental to both of you." Dan and I said nothing, neither of us quite grasping what she was leading towards, and Carla tried to take a different approach. "You're both candor-"

"-were candor," Dan interrupted.

"Right, were, but that doesn't change the fact that you two have the ability to distinguish the truth from a lie. Look at yourselves, and look at us," she motioned to Grace and herself, "you have to see that both of us don't exactly fit the dauntless archetype, while you two already embody this faction's standards as if you'd been born here."

"Yeah, I mean Billy and his friends also seem to be fitting in, but it's nothing compared to how you're both doing." Grace added, seemingly in line with Carla's thoughts. "You two never seem to be afraid, not at all, you never hesitate to do anything. That rollercoaster thing, that was so fearless, even the dauntless born were impressed. Dan, you just opened fire on their team even when you were outnumbered. And Sage, that jump, wow, that just-" Grace floundered for words.

"-was astounding." Carla finished. "Sage, you should've seen the way Amar and Red looked when they saw you ride the coaster and then leap out. Even the way you reacted after you made it out safe." Carla gawked openly. "I mean, holy crap, you just laughed! They looked like, what's the commonly used term?"

"Proud mother hens?" Grace offered.

"No, I think that would entail a level of affection." Carla thought for a bit, and then waved her hand, dismissing the phrase she was looking for. "Red especially, was staring at you with an eager, almost impatient, expression. Like he couldn't wait for the initiation to be over so he could recruit you or something."

It was quiet as Dan and I both tried to gather what they'd just said. I spoke first, though what I'd pieced together bothered me more than the thought that Red and Amar had their eyes on us.

"So…" I trailed off, a little insulted at what I'd figured out. "You two think we're going to eventually change our behavior just because it'll help us fit into dauntless better?" I said slowly; my revulsion obvious and clear in every word. "After all this time, that's what you think of us?"

Grace blushed and shamefully dropped her eyes, while Carla scratched her head awkwardly. Dan's eyes widened in surprise, he must've still been thinking, and then he looked about as appalled as I felt when they didn't deny my allegation.

Carla sighed and tried to explain. "Don't be offended, but it's only logical. We wouldn't blame you if you decided to sit elsewhere or even drop this newly-found friendship altogether."

Dan barked out a laugh, and then mimicked Carla's tone. "Don't be offended, but you two are a couple of idiots if you think we'd be so easily swayed by peer pressure."

I was used to blunt candor honesty, but Carla and Grace were still easily surprised when candid words sprang free from our lips. They stared open mouthed at Dan's words, looking both shocked and hurt. I knew he didn't mean it as an insult, not really, but I could see where it had sounded like that.

"I think what Dan means is that it's disappointing that you think of us that way," I said, trying to soften the blow. "The only thing that'll need adjusting will probably be our need to strengthen our verbal filter," I gave Dan a pointed look, "but other than that, nothing else will change. Candor infuses many core values into you, with the most important being to stay honest and true to yourself."

Grace brightened, but I could see Carla was still skeptical. She'd been acting somewhat off-putting and skittish around us. The only thing that I thought explained her behavior was the fact that she'd been steadily increasing the time she spent around Billy and his friends.

Though the positive side of me wanted to believe I was seeing things, the thick-skinned candor side saw the truth of what was going on. I knew that she was not the same Carla that had arrived here. She didn't trust Dan and I, and to be frank, we didn't trust her.

Though we hadn't actually touched on the topic it was clear to both Dan and I, that Carla was to be watched closely. Who knew what twisted lies they'd fed to her. What she'd been fooled into believing. Yes, I'd definitely be keeping tabs on her.

I'd survived this far, and I wouldn't let a snake in the grass ruin the hard work I'd put in. I would not let Carla put my friends in danger. Dan could defend himself, but Grace, well…

I'd have to keep an eye on her.