By the time Four is taking the loser of today's last fight – Vi – to the infirmary, it's lunchtime. I follow Al and Ally until I feel a hand on my shoulder. "No, you're not going just yet, Stiff."
Al and Ally have stopped walking at this point. Al's brows furrowed while there is a glint in Ally's brown eyes that I can't peg as she looks between me and Eric. I nod at them to go ahead. Refusing to look at Eric due to his close proximity to me.
Christina hanging onto the railings for five minutes and trying not to slip fresh in my mind.
After closing the door after the last initiate, he turns to me. "So, I've seen that you have been trying some moves during the matches. Better than just standing there and watching."
"I also watched Will and Al," I point out, trying to figure out what he was getting at. Even if it had to do with seeing me in the training room this morning, I couldn't help but feel a swell of irritation.
"Four thought he was doing you a favor by excluding you from today's matches," Eric says. He snorts. "Something he would do with the weaker initiates. Except it would put someone like you at a greater disadvantage."
Someone like what? I want to demand. Except it would be the best not to try him after what he did to Christina when she conceded in the fight with Molly.
"I could sit back and watch as you struggle to barely make it above the bottom ranks." His smirk indicating that he'd revel in my demise. I think about what Four said about Eric sitting back and watching what he calls the weaker initiates struggle. "However, perhaps it would be best for you to build some skill before stage one ends. Practicing how to throw punches with another initiate might not be the best end game for you. You need someone with more experience. More authority."
I glare at him. I know what he's entertaining, and I want no part in it.
"Why not ask Nomi for that? You said she has a better chance than me."
Nomi, who was able to take down Myra after eight minutes. I don't want Eric to ask Nomi either. It's selfish of me to put her name out there, but I'd rather not have this conversation with him.
Eric shrugs. "I could, except there is no point in giving one on one with someone who'd make it to at least the bottom of the fourteen slots. She wouldn't need my help, whereas you –"
"Your help?" I demand. "You verbally doubted that I would even last initiation. You said you'd be fine watching me struggle."
I feel there is another reason why he insists on training me rather than Nomi. Right now, it's hard to peg.
"You will accept my help whether you like it or not, unless you want to be cut from initiation," he says. His hardened eyes and tone indicating that I went too far.
I sigh. There would be no use arguing with him. He would make initiation miserable for me regardless. Maybe this is goal: to wind me up so tight just to see how I crack. "Fine. I'll accept your help."
"Good. Meet me in the training room every morning before breakfast," he says. Turning to leave before continuing, "and if your friends ask why I held you up, tell them that this was because you were stupid enough to give me lip before breakfast."
I wait for a minute after he leaves before I book it out of there.
"What did Eric want?" Ally had asked me just as I joined her and Al at a table.
I shrug. "Apparently I gave him some lip this morning when he saw me and Nomi in the training room before breakfast. He gave me a earful."
Ally seems to be relieved for some reason. Al, however, nearly drops his jaw. "Tris, this is the same guy who made Christina hang at the Chasm for five minutes. Keep poking him and he might do that to you or worse."
"I'm not that stupid," I tell him.
I think about Eric's offer as I eat my lunch. Barely listening to the chatter around me. On one hand, it might not be that bad to have some extra training to help make sure I don't get cut. Even if it puts my friends at a disadvantage. On the other hand, it feels as if Eric has just become another obstacle for me.
By the time lunch is over, Christina and Will leave the infirmary. And by that point, we head back to the shooting range. Its target practice again, but this time with rifles instead of handguns. Four is alone, much to my relief. Eric is probably overseeing the Dauntless initiates.
If only he would only oversee the Dauntless-born for the rest of stage one, that way we won't have to deal with him. Only I have to see him every morning.
"Rifles are more complex than a handgun, but the same rules apply," he says, as he hands them to us while we are at stations. Four slams a rifle into my chest before moving on. "Watch me closely, or you'll be lost."
We watch as he bends over and slowly, he shoots the plywood target, an concentrated look on his face. I turn to my own target and bend over in my station. I try holding my rifle like everyone else, and look through the scope.
I pull the trigger, and the force of the gunshot makes me stumble a little. When I look at the target, I see that it hit the outermost circle. It's like the handgun: it takes me several bullets until the bullet holes are close to the inner target.
"Looks like shooting firearms are the only things she might be able do," I hear Molly jeer. "She'd be easy to take on."
"Pretty much," I hear Peter say in response. "Her Stiff friend beat Myra, but that was a easy fight."
Spoken like someone who had not seen Nomi's punching bag sway from her forceful punches. Of course, he does not know that the arrangement Eric made with me. Maybe it's not the best as he gazes at Eric the way a Erudite dependent would look upon their favorite teacher who they suck up to back in school.
We haven't even entered the Pit when I see a couple what look like the Dauntless-born speaking with Nomi and her friends. Vi spots us and walks forward.
"They have invited the transfers to hang out with them in their dormitory," she says. "To start building up comradery, since fourteen of us are going to be in the same faction."
"Wouldn't it be against the rules?" Will asks. "To go in their dormitory when we're separated for the first stage of initiation?"
"I asked," Vi answered. "One of them took it to one of the leaders and they are ok with it. As long as we go back to our dormitory at nine. Besides, just because we are separated with them in this stage, that doesn't mean we can't mingle now."
Part of me isn't sure. That would be invasive. A place for them to wind down after a day of practicing with punching bags, fighting with their fellow initiates. Just like our dormitory. Except the Dauntless-born seemed to have invited us.
Vi had a point. Just because we're separated for the rankings in this stage, doesn't mean we can't hang out.
The dormitory for the Dauntless-borns is three hallways from ours, and it looks no different from ours. Except that their bathroom door is in the opposite end of the room. Between two beds is a blank scoreboard just like the one in our dormitory.
"This dormitory looks just like ours," Peter pointed out as I now register the upbeat music playing in the room ("We're at the top of the world, you and I. We've got a lot of time and it sure feels right….")
"I don't know why it would be," Nomi pointed out with a shrug.
"Who let the Stiffs in?" Peter demanded. Crinkling his nose when he sees Nomi and I. "No use coming here if you'll be factionless."
Only a couple of the Dauntless-born laugh to this. Most don't and a couple that I see look at Peter with the same exasperation as Ally, Tony, Vi, Will, and Edward.
"I wouldn't be sure about that, Candor," said a dark-eyed and dark-skinned Dauntless-born. "There was a Stiff that ranked first in the final rankings two years ago."
Christina, Will, and Ally chuckle at the bewilderment and disbelief on Peter's face and I find myself laughing along. Maybe there's hope for me yet. Then it clicks to me. The last Abnegation to transfer to Dauntless was Nomi's older brother Tobias two years ago.
"Is this spiked?" Christina asked as a purple-haired Dauntless born hands us bottles. Ones that I have seen littered in one of the pockets of Factionless slums.
The girl rolls her eyes. "As if we want to get drunk before our matches tomorrow. I don't think you want to get drunk either."
I'd rather not get drunk with what's coming up tomorrow morning. Arriving at the training room drunk would not help me with my current situation with Eric.
Will opens his and his eyes widen after one swig. "Good but the soda we had back in Erudite was better. Smoother too."
Some of the Dauntless-born and a few of the transfers retreat to a game that's on the floor. While the four of us are beckoned by the dark-eyed Dauntless-born that had spoken to us. With him is a girl with blonde hair and a girl whose hair is partly shaved off.
"I'm Uriah," he introduces, shaking Al's hand.
"Marlene." The blonde Dauntless-born shakes our hand.
"Lynn," introduces the last one. "Do you have to deal with that Candor's stupid mouth?"
Looking at Peter, I see that he and his lackeys are talking with the Dauntless-born who laughed at his jab towards Nomi and me. "More then we want to," I say.
"He was that bad in Candor, too," Christina notes. "Worse, back when we were kids, he'd pick fights with people from other factions and then, when an adult came to break it up, he'd cry and make up some story about how the other kid started it. And of course, they believed him, because we were Candor and we couldn't lie."
"I wouldn't feel bad if we see the back of him if, by some miracle, he leaves," Ally says.
"Idiot Candor trashmouths aside." Christina glares at Marlene as she pulls out a deck of cards. "Does anyone want to learn how to play with cards?"
"Um, sure," I say, remembering watching some of the former Dauntless dependents playing what looked like variations of card games at their table when we waited to take our aptitude tests.
As Uriah explains the rules of "Go Fish" ("You have to hand over your deck if you don't have a certain card"), I twist open the cap of the bottle and take a sip. I wince as the acid seems to eat at my throat as I notice a cherry-like aftertaste.
"So, has Eric come close to scalping you guys?" Uriah asks as we each get a deck of cards. "He was lurking in the training room yesterday when we did our matches, but he's going to mostly oversee the transfers what I heard."
"If you count having us fight until the other was unconscious along with making one of us hang at the chasm for five minutes because one conceded in a fight," I say.
All of them have varying looks of discomfort on their faces. "Well, he wouldn't do that with one of us without Lauren getting on his ass for it," said Lynn.
"That's different," Marlene pointed out. "He and Lauren don't have the obvious urge to scalp each other like he and Four do."
"Two of you were from Erudite." Lynn looks at Ally and Will. "Did any of you know him."
Will shrugged. "I mean, I know his mom used to be our Lower Levels Literacy teacher before she joined the council four years ago. My family isn't as close to the Coulters as the Matthews' and the Lords are. I mean, my sister works closely with Jeanine Matthews, but that's because her superior is one of Jeanine's top scientists."
There are fifteen seats for the council. A faction gets three seats each, and every four years we vote on who'd we like to represent us in the council. Every four years the council elects whoever they think is the wisest to lead the council. Marcus has just been elected for his second and final term as Council Chairman last year. I barely remember Eric's mother, but if she filled a council seat, it makes me nervous.
"Eric used to be part of my after-school study group before he transferred." Ally brushes her fingers against her deck of cards. "You wouldn't think he was the same person he was now. He was a bit lankier and wore glasses. Say what you want, he looks better now."
There was something about her expression. Almost like the way that Myra and Edward look at each other. Christina picks it too.
"Wait. You liked him? Why didn't you say anything before?"
Ally shrugs. "I didn't want to make things awkward. Besides, I might catch things up with him when initiation is over. Do it now and people will get the wrong idea on how I got my rank after initiation is over."
"I don't see how anyone can like him. No offense, but he doesn't fit my taste," said Lynn.
"I worry for her taste in boys," Christina whispers to me.
It's something I mull over as we play Go-Fish. Thinking what Ally said about Eric made me think about Caleb and Susan, and their discreet moments of flirtation. Were Ally and Eric the same way? How do young couples flirt in Erudite? In secret with noses behind their books? Though I have a hard time imagining Eric as she described him.
Now the way she seemed unhappy about Eric keeping me back makes sense. That her relief when I told the story Eric wanted me to tell makes sense. It's obvious that she still likes him, and that a idea of him showing any sort of interest in another girl was unsettling. I don't think she would be happy if she knew I was going to spend my mornings with him.
I don't know how long we've been in here – long enough for the room to become smoky from cigarette smoke– or how many variations of card games we played ("Al, you had none in your deck," said Marlene. "Of course, you are supposed to give it up"). But I jump when I hear someone knocking at the wall with a pipe.
"Hate to ruin your fun, but curfew is in fifteen minutes." I turn to see Four standing at the front of the room. Eric waiting next to the door appraising us. "Transfers, back to your dormitory."
"Linger and I might consider changing up the matches for tomorrow morning." Giving that malicious smirk as my fellow transfers scramble up faster in response. "Whoever lit those, put them out. Or we'll be left with thirteen initiates before the cuts are made."
"Hope to catch you guys before capture the flag," Uriah says as we stretch before getting up.
"Capture the flag?" Christina asks.
"Can't say much with a certain person in the room," Marlene answers. "It's a staple in initiation that develops the comradery."
"Except it might take more than that to drum it into those three." Christina casting a glare at Peter and his lackeys.
As we all hurry out of the Dauntless-borns' dormitory to our own, I swear I could feel Eric's eyes boring into the back of my skull. Hoping that Ally didn't catch it.
I wore my wristwatch when I slept so I wouldn't oversleep and at five in the morning, I changed into the plain black clothes, and I snuck out of the dormitory. I go through the underground maze. The blue lights in the hallways guiding me to my destination.
A few Dauntless are out and about, but they hardly pay any attention to me as I make my way to the training room. The door is unlocked, though when I enter the room, I see no sign of Eric. Deciding that I should kill time, I go to the nearest punching bag and begin practicing.
I watch as the punching bag swags slightly to my punches and kicks. I'm not aware that he entered the room and before I punch the bag with my elbow, I feel his callused hands grab my shoulders. They scratch against my skin.
"You're rather early," he says as I turn to face him.
"You told me to meet you here at thirty minutes after five," I reply.
"And I consider this good timing," he says.
When we both go on the platform, he takes out four thick, black bands and hands two to me. "Padding. They used to use padding for fights during Dauntless initiation in the past before they started using bare knuckles," he says as he slides two of them over his knuckles.
I slide the foam bands over my knuckles as well. "Where did you learn this, I wonder? I suppose that Erudite is very extensive on the history of the five factions."
"I'm going to pretend that Four probably didn't tell you about my faction of origin," he replies, his eyes hard.
We both get in position, and I copy the way he holds up his arms, protecting both my face and my abdomen. "Good. You actually might want to guard your abdomen as well. That needs as much protection as your face."
Nearly word for word from Ally.
He aims a punch at my jaw and I block it with my arm, stumbling a little from the force of it.
"That was not bad, now let's see if I could block a punch from you," he says.
He will, I think but I try to punch his nose, but he blocks it just before my padded knuckles meets the skin, and punches me in the eye. It would have been worse without the padding.
As the training fight goes on, he blocks more punches then I do and my reaction time isn't as fast as his. It's difficult to search for any weaknesses in combat skills. It's like he has perfected his skill even after initiation.
When it's clear that I'm exhausted and before I get too bruised up, he stops the training session and gives me a bottle of water.
"Your reaction time could use improvement, as for the force of your punches," he says. "Not the best, but it will get there."
"What was the purpose of this again?" I demand. "To raise the bar higher for me than the others?"
"It was to merely identify the movements of an opponent," he answers. "Something you wouldn't get with a punching bag."
I hate to admit it, but I know he's right. The punching bag is useful for practicing my punches on, but it won't help me identify the threats from an opponent.
"I see," I say.
"Today, you'll practice with punching bags in the morning, and then you fight after lunch," he tells me. "Remember to make your punches more forceful. Think about what makes you angry. That might help."
