TRIS POV
Four lifts me out of the net, and I grab onto his shoulders for support before he sets me on my feet. Immediately after, I remove my hands and avert my eyes, ignoring the shock of energy that shoots through my body by just touching him.
"This feels familiar," he comments to alleviate the awkward vibe between us, though it doesn't actually work.
I chance a look at him. He towers over me, just like I remember, his dark hair grown out slightly to the point where his natural curls are visible. His apathetic eyes are darker than before; in fact, I can't even make out the lighter patch of blue in his left eye—or any blue, really. A split lip gives him an even more intimidating appearance, and I wonder briefly how he got it.
The rugged look is attractive enough on him that I find myself staring shamelessly. It is easy to almost forget that he not only broke my soul nine months ago but proceeded to kick me even after he was gone.
When I realize that I still haven't responded, I clear my dry throat and say, "Well, someone was going to have to jump sometime."
He smirks slightly, but there is not much amusement in it. Turning his head to address the crowd, he shouts, "First jumper, Tris!"
The words echo in the cavern and escape through the gaping hole above the net. A long time ago in a different place, those same words filled me with elation, especially since they were coming from him. Now I see them as insignificant; I am only the winner of an inane test of bravery.
One year can change everything.
"Welcome back," Four says, his voice low.
I nod at him and step off the platform, just in time for Destiny to land in the net with a scream piercing the air, followed by an airy laugh. Four yanks on the net to help her out, and a flare of anger surfaces in me when I think of him picking her up like he did me.
When he only steadies her with his hand and leaves the rest to her, though, I feel shameful. I have to turn away from the scene completely to gather myself. What the hell was that about? And then Destiny—who changes her name to Dez, to be more Dauntless—practically skips over to me in her red Amity dress, all innocent-like, making me view myself as an utter idiot.
For all I know, he has a girlfriend. Not that I care.
Time drags on as we wait for all of the initiates to fall into the net. Uriah, Christina, Dez, and I all stand by and try to pick up names as they quickly come and go.
"What's her name again?" Christina asks, pointing deliberately. "The blonde one from Erudite."
"I'm not sure. She's not someone you want to be friends with though," I advise. Our encounter on the rooftop was enough proof that she is not a decent person.
Christina hums. "Good to know."
"What's good to know?"
The hair on the back of my neck stands up at that unfortunately familiar voice. I don't even turn around to address him. "I don't think that's any of your business, Peter," I snap.
"Woah, Stiff, I thought we were on good terms," he says with mock hurt. "You know, since I saved your life that one time?"
"Yeah, and I thought that made us even." After I saved him from a bullet in Amity and he kept me out of being injected by the death serum, I figured we would be tied—at least, in his logic—and he would leave me alone from now on. I guess not.
"No offense, Peter, but nobody wants you around," Uriah tells him with a hint of humor. There is no need to gain hostilities, especially with someone as creatively dangerous as Peter.
"Sorry. We're in initiation together again," Peter reminds us. He loops an arm around Christina's shoulder and receives a harsh jab to the side, which gets him to back off.
"Listen up!" Four beckons. Everyone quiets down quickly at his threatening tone. "We'll be splitting up. Even though things are different this year, Dauntless-born and transfers will still be trained separately. And the sixteen-year-olds will be weighted differently from the seventeen-year-olds, who obviously have an advantage if they completed initiation last year." He tilts his head towards Lauren, the Dauntless-born instructor from last year. "That being said, the Dauntless-born go with Lauren. Transfers, stay."
The Dauntless born file out. Uriah trails after the group with a reluctant goodbye and a promise to meet us at dinner soon. It is now that I notice just how many transfers there are; while there were nine total last year, this time there are thirty at least.
"Usually I work in intelligence, but for the next month or so, I will be your instructor," Four says, monotone. "My name is Four."
The bratty Erudite girl, who stands right in front of me, whispers to her friend, "I bet something of his isn't only four."
My face burns at her inappropriate comment, mostly because I'm well acquainted with him.
Four, however, is unfazed after having to listen to cracks at his name every year. He steps forward and levels a glare at her that makes some of the other initiates squirm in fear. "What's your name?" he asks.
"Jessica." She winds a piece of her hair around her finger.
"Jessica, if you don't want to get eaten alive here, then I would suggest keeping your unimportant, repulsive comments to yourself."
That seems to deter her, at least for now. He backs up and leads us out of the room and into the dark hallway, calling out, "Follow me," over his shoulder.
Christina shivers next to me. "I'm not even joking, I'm still scared of him," she confesses.
I roll my eyes. Nobody has reason to be afraid of him. Contrary to what I used to believe, he isn't remotely close to being Eric.
We receive the grand tour of the Dauntless compound, though a few of us don't need one. I admire the liveliness of the Pit, and then we get the chasm lecture again. Four and I touch each other's gazes for an uncomfortable millisecond, since it is impossible to ignore the fact that this is where we had our first kiss.
I thought this—acting emotionless and forgetful of the past—would be easier. If not, then at least not outright complicated like it is now. I haven't even gotten to the dormitory, and I'm already sneaking glances at him and reminiscing over a relationship that was cumulatively toxic, at least during wartime.
He is a magnet; it doesn't matter that we broke up and that it should be a simple matter of avoidance because I am drawn in by his presence alone. Maybe I am just used to gravitating towards him, or maybe it is the natural, mysterious aura that surrounds him. Either way, I can't shut him out.
I hate it. I hate it because I hate him.
"This is where you'll be sleeping for the next few weeks," Four states, allowing us to take in the sight of the grungy dormitory. "There aren't enough beds because we usually don't get nearly this many initiates, and we weren't planning on it this year either. So a few of you will have to sleep on cots on the floor." He turns and cuts into the crowd to leave. "Work that out amongst yourselves. Get changed and head to dinner after."
And I thought last year's conditions were unfavorable.
Without hesitation, the transfers rush to obtain a decent bed before it is stolen. Instead of doing the same, I silently volunteer to take one of the cots near the doorway. Someone will have to anyway, and I don't feel the need to fight over something as trivial as a slightly more comfortable place to rest.
"You're crazy," Christina informs me as she digs through the drawers under her bed for an outfit.
"So I've been told," I mumble, not even bothering to hide my body as I change into the black initiates' uniform that I was provided. Immediately, I feel like I can breathe again once I'm out of the dull Abnegation clothing.
Once we are settled in for the most part, Christina, Dez, and I all head to the dining hall. The music can barely be heard over the rambunctious chatter, but it is there and adding to the noise. The smell of roasted meat wafts in my direction when I step inside, causing my stomach to grumble in pleading for a well-cooked, seasoned meal, which I haven't had in a year.
"Look, there's Uriah," Christina says, dragging me along with her, before coming to a halt.
"What is it?" I ask when she begins searching for another open table. Dez seems confused as well.
Christina nods towards the table that Uriah is currently eating at. Next to him is Zeke and Shauna, and across from them is none other than Four himself, sipping from a cup nonchalantly.
"Oh crap, isn't that our instructor?" Dez says aloud, already knowing the answer.
Initiation is one thing. But sitting next to him for an entire meal? I'm not so sure I can handle that.
"It's fine," I snap indignantly, determined to not let him have power over me. In fact, I take the initiative to march over to the table, taking the seat next to him because neither of my friends would want to.
He goes rigid and keeps a safe distance, listening to a story Zeke is telling. For now, this is bearable.
"I hate the Dauntless-borns," Uriah complains to us as soon as we are all sitting. "I barely know them. I wish I could train with you guys instead."
"Well, we don't," Christina teases. I smile slightly as I pick up a hamburger with my fork. This feels like old times, like I don't have to think of war or death for a moment because of the warm atmosphere and the company of my friends.
"I remember when you ate your first hamburger," Christina laughs.
I nudge her with my elbow at the reminder. "Stop," I whine.
"Oh yeah, you told me about that," Uriah chimes in.
"Wait what?" Dez interjects from next to him, trying to be a part of the conversation.
Christina launches into the story. "So Tris had never had a hamburger before she came here last year—" But I can't help but succumb to the blanket of melancholy that settles over me while I eat. That was when it was simpler: when Will and Al sat across from us, when Four told me to be careful about running my mouth, when the only enemy I had to look out for was Eric.
A year later, and Will and Al are dead, Four and I are estranged, and Eric—thankfully—is dead as well.
"Tris!" Zeke calls. I turn my head to where he is at the table, diagonal from me. He gives me a welcoming smile that both the Pedrad brothers have mastered. "I just barely noticed you."
"How are you, Zeke?" And then, seeing that Shauna is paying attention, I add, "You too, Shauna." I'm hesitant to see her reaction. We didn't get along well during the war, when she was wary of my Divergence.
"I'm doing great, actually," Zeke says bluntly.
I lift the corners of my lips. "Good for you."
When I look at Shauna, she offers an awkward grin. "I'm better," she says.
"That's good to hear," I reply sincerely. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose all mobility in the lower half of your body. Shauna is strong though, so I take it that she is managing a lot better than most people.
Uriah pulls me back to the other conversation. "Well, and Tris over here got first, of course..."
"Wait, what are we talking about?" I question before taking a bite of my hamburger.
"Initiation," Uriah clarifies. "Come on, Tris, get with the program."
I send him a playful glare.
"I'm asking too many questions," Dez states, "but can you guys tell me what to expect?" Everybody at the table can tell that she is nervous, rightfully so.
I explain, "Tomorrow will focus on guns," which I don't know how I will handle when I still can't hold one, "and after we will probably work on muscles and fighting techniques, and then we'll eventually fight—"
Until now, Four has stayed mostly silent, except for an occasional comment made towards Zeke and Shauna. But he interrupts me now to say, "You're not supposed to be discussing this with the sixteen-year-olds. They're supposed to be in the dark like you were last year."
I clench my teeth together. That is all he has to say? And who does he think he is, patronizing me in front of our friends?
Without looking at him, I fire back, "There's nothing wrong with telling her the basics of what to expect. It's not some big faction secret."
"It's not helping her in any way."
"Preparedness helps people to be brave." I learned that from him.
My face burns as everyone watches us, completely quiet. The tension is heightened during the seconds that he takes contemplating his retort, but instead of responding he just finishes his drink and rises from the table, accidentally knocking his thigh against mine. I see him leave out of the corner of my eye, and then I hang my head in embarrassment and focus on my dinner.
"That was scary!" Dez stage whispers, seemingly horrified. "I can't believe you said that to him. He looked like he was going to crush that cup in his hand."
Christina replies so that I don't have to. "Do you not know who that is?" she asks.
Dez gapes at her. "I don't know, our terrifying instructor perhaps?"
With the shake of a head, Christina explains, "He and Tris used to be together. Does that not ring a bell?" I bite the inside of my cheek in irritation, suddenly not very hungry anymore.
"Four. The Dauntless leader." Dez covers her face with her hands. "Oh my God, I can't believe I didn't make that connection until now."
Deciding that I have had enough of everyone staring at me and talking about my failed relationship, I stand up. "Excuse me," I say before I walk out of the dining hall. Nobody follows me.
TOBIAS POV
My apartment feels like an inferno when I enter, since the sun was shining through the wall of windows all evening. I click the down button on the air conditioning, hoping that it will cool down by the time I return.
This really isn't the best time to send my mother a message; I should be resting up before I have a couple weeks of constant training to conduct. But I want to get it over with, so I scribble out a note on my desk that reads:
Evelyn,
Nothing you can say will make me come back and join you. Don't send me another message.
4
I fold it up and stick it in my pocket before I leave.
The stone tunnels are chilled in contrast to the summer air up above the compound and in the apartments where there are windows to let in the heat. A part of me wants to sleep in these hallways, underneath the blue glow and away from the eventual morning sun. I'm growing sick of this monotonous, hot, bright weather.
I take a detour instead of going straight through the Pit. Staying tightly pressed to the wall, I make my way across the ledge that lines the Pit and up the flight of stairs that takes me outside just below the Pire, on level ground.
The moonlight serves as the only light source for me as I walk along the train tracks. Some factionless tend to hang around the corner of the last Dauntless building that stands beside the tracks, and others hang around all of the other factions. They haven't taken no for an answer ever since they somewhat successfully rebelled last year, and now it is common to find them milling about in civilization, looking for trouble—or food. Dauntless guards have to forcibly remove them if they want them gone because they won't cower to guns anymore.
While I don't exactly enjoy factionless presence, I use them to my advantage. They will take the bribe of delivering messages between factions in exchange for food quickly, like a child being offered candy. It is how Caleb sent me the urgent message about Tris too.
My God, Tris Prior can manage to strike every one of my last nerves.
Today when she landed in the net, she was almost alight with that fiery spirit that I once saw in her. Her eyes were stunning, her golden hair long—and though I'm not petty enough to care about something as trivial as a hairstyle, I always liked her long hair better. Although maybe that is just because I equate that with her old self.
At first she was her, with that echo of her sixteen-year-old self, with some sorrow behind her eyes that was not there last year.
And then the irritating parts about her stood out, and we were back to square one. Challenging me at the dinner table was something I might have laughed at once, but tonight it was embarrassing for both of us, fighting in front of our friends like the couple we were that could never seem to agree. Although I guess my comment didn't help.
Whatever. If she doesn't want us to be cordial around each other, then I will just prove her to be the asshole by treating her with the respect I'm not sure she deserves.
A fire glows up ahead. I approach the light and shove all thoughts of initiation to the back of my mind until I get this deal over with. I don't trust the factionless, if the knife in my pocket isn't an indicator of that. It is unwise to not be on my guard around them.
"Hey!" I call once I feel that I'm close enough.
The four men crowded around the fire spring to their feet and glare at me. "Hey, get out of here, shithead," one of them sneers.
I sigh at their defensiveness. "Look, I just need a message delivered," I say. Not everyone is trying to pick a fight with you assholes.
"That comes with a price."
I remove the slim can I brought from my jacket pocket and toss it in their direction. When they seem satisfied, I step closer to personally hand one of them the note.
"Take it to Evelyn Johnson," I order.
One of the men catches on. "Hey, aren't you her son? That Eaton kid?" That is none of his goddamn business.
I shake my head as I walk away. "She's not my mother."
The walk back is a brisk one. I don't need to give any factionless thugs a chance to jump me. As soon as I am back inside the Dauntless compound, I feel safer.
On my way to my apartment, I notice a feminine figure curled up against the wall in the hallway near the initiates' dormitories. It is a strange place to be, especially at this time of night, and I can't help but stare at her as I approach. It is when I am a few feet away that I realize that I know this person.
"Tris?" I say, surprised.
She lifts her head away from her knees and narrows her eyes up at me. The blue light casts shadows underneath them. "What do you want?" she growls.
"Why aren't you in the dorms?"
"How is that your business?"
"I'm your instructor. I think that damn well makes it my business." But I really just want to know for the sake of my curiosity.
Tris's gaze hits the floor and stays there as she mumbles, "Nightmares."
"What?" Everyone has nightmares. But I do remember hers being especially terrifying to her in the past. One time she was so frightened that she stumbled into my room in Amity and sobbed hysterically in my arms, which I later found out wasn't about her parents since she had deliberately hid her secret about Will from me.
They interrupt my sleep too sometimes, to the point where I wake up in a cold sweat after having to kill people again. Mine don't sound as troubling as hers though.
"I get really bad nightmares, okay?" she exasperates, and I briefly wonder if they are one of the reasons she cut herself. "And I'm out here to cool off before I fall asleep again and confront the next one. So could you please just leave me alone, Four?"
The name sounds foreign coming from her mouth, and I long for her to call me Tobias again. She is the only person I will allow to use my real name.
Has it really come to this between us? We fought so hard during the war to keep this relationship, and it was all for shit. It didn't matter because now she can't stand the sight of me, and I can't handle being around her long enough to have a full-on conversation. As much as I despise the situation, I can't fix anything because I would have to fix her first.
So after a few dragging seconds, I say, "Goodnight, Tris," and walk away. I don't think she ever replies, and that hurts worse.
