The compound was busier now than it had been when I'd first woken up. I passed by a group of dependents who were playing some kind of tag in the dark halls, twinkling my fingers in a wave. When I got to the dining hall, I settled into line and hunted down one of the coveted double-chocolate muffins. It wasn't as rich as the infamous Dauntless cake, but the sugar and carbs would keep me from starving during training.

I smiled blithely at the few Dauntless who made eye contact with me. Despite the faction's outward appearance, I didn't find too many people here who actively disliked us initiates.

Searching for any familiar faces, I noticed Four sitting at a table with Lauren and some other younger members of Dauntless. Speaking of people who didn't seem to like initiates, I mused internally. I ignored that section of the hall and settled on a table tucked close to the wall opposite to the spread of food. When Christina or any of our other friends came in, they'd be sure to come over and join me.

Settling into the seat, I sipped at my stolen water bottle and peeled the wrapper off of my muffin. Al and Will joined me soon after, with Al looking far worse for wear despite having won yesterday's fight. "Good morning!" Will greeted cheerfully, all smiles as he set down his tray of sliced fruit and cereal.

I replied with a slightly less chipper greeting, popping another piece of my muffin in my mouth. "Dammit," Al sighed. "What time do you have to get up to get one of those?"

I shrugged and raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Early enough," I replied, trying to remain mysterious. "I don't want to reveal all my secrets or you'll be taking the last one instead of me."

Christina came in at this point, her hair damp from the shower and a plain chocolate chip muffin in hand. "Oh, you jerk," she started off without even saying hello. "How'd you get a double chocolate one?"

Al stood and switched sides so that Christina could sit down, smiling nervously at me as he sat next to me. I didn't smile back, not quite following why he didn't let Christina sit there instead. The difference between sitting against the wall or facing it was the matter of two steps.

"She woke up before the dawn and stalked the bakers, apparently," Will answered Christina sarcastically. "Or so Tris wants us to believe. She won't even share, either," he added with an exaggerated pout.

That made me laugh and I tore off a bit of the top to give to him. "I didn't say anything like that. Feel free to wake up whenever you think they'll be available and see for yourself," I chuckled. "For now, though, I'll be enjoying this hard earned delicacy by myself."

Christina rolled her eyes good-naturedly. After taking another bite of her breakfast she mumbled through crumbs, "So is that cut over your eyes also a big secret, too? Because Will and I have a betting pool going on how you got it. Smart money's on tripping, but I've got a feeling it's more interesting than that."

My hand flew up to my eyebrow, and I flushed when I felt the twin indents from yesterday. I'd completely forgotten about the marks from my sparring with Eric. "Oh," I stammered with uncertainty. "I, ah, slammed my head into the side of the lockers. Stretching over there is a risk if you've got bad balance."

"Hmm," Christina murmured. She didn't sound convinced. "See, I thought maybe you were playing tonsil hockey with someone who has more metal than face," she suggested casually, continuing to eat her food.

I choked on my next bite, having inhaled a piece of chocolate. "Uhm, what?" I replied weakly. Will was laughing hard, pounding a fist on the table. Al looked mortified, his face almost as red as mine. "Tonsil...hockey?"

Christina smirked and made an exaggerated kissing motion. "You know, getting friendly with the natives. Was it one of the Dauntless initiates? Cal's got a nice face even with all those eyebrow piercings," she teased, her smile wicked.

I felt mortified by the suggestion of it. Back home, kissing a guy was something completely private. Hell, holding hands was scandalous if you weren't in a committed relationship. Christina suggesting that I was making out with some random Dauntless-born was just embarrassing. On top of all of that, the way that I'd actually gotten cut was embarrassing considering the position that Eric and I had been in. I could only imagine what Christina would think if she saw Eric pinning me to the ground. Or what she would say.

"That is so not what happened," I replied urgently. "Honest to God, there's no way I'd do… that." My face still felt warm, though, and I wished to every deity known or unknown that I could stop getting embarrassed by literally anything.

Will was still laughing, shaking his head. "I can't get that image out of my head," he managed to say between laughs.

"Neither can I," Al growled, looking solidly away from me. Christina looked pleased with herself as the conversation turned to the relative attractiveness of our fellow initiates. I returned to eating my muffin, one hand self-consciously covering my forehead.

When we were heading to the training room, Christina gently bumped her shoulder into me. "Hey, you know I'm just kidding, right? About the making out," she said.

I nodded and smiled at her. "I figured," I replied casually. It was nice, though, that she was saying something about it instead of just assuming I was ok with it. I was okay with it, despite how weird it might feel to joke about that kind of thing.

"I mean, the fact that you think I'd stoop to Cal's level gave it all away," I teased her in response, elbowing her gently. "Do you really think I'd be into curly haired ginger boys? Come on." That made her laugh loudly.

Will turned to look back at the noise, but we just shook our heads. "Don't worry about it," Christina said to him. "We're laughing about girly things." She waggled her fingers and pursed her lips, the image of a stuck up girly-girl.

"Wait, the Stiff's a girl?" I heard Peter call out from the training room as we entered. "Could've fooled me." He was standing with Drew and Molly by the door, looking especially arrogant.

Before I could summon up a retort Four was calling for everyone to circle up by the fighting ring. I swallowed my anger, a bubble of nervousness suddenly swelling up within me. I'd almost forgotten that we were fighting again today. At least I wasn't as nervous as Al looked. He was positively green, walking so slowly to the mat that you'd think he was going to his execution.

"This morning we're starting off with fighting. Remember what you learned yesterday and try to show some improvement," Four barked, his arms crossed firmly over his chest. God, did he ever lighten up?

Behind him was the chalkboard with names already paired up in matches. I swallowed hard when I saw my name was first, paired off with Myra. I looked over at her and felt some of my nerves dissipate. She'd gone down fairly quickly against Peter. Will had mentioned before that she was Edward's girlfriend and that she'd joined Dauntless just to follow him, presumably without actually possessing the aptitude for it. On top of all that, she looked just as uneasy as I felt.

Four pointed to Myra and then to me, summoning us to the mat. "First match is between Myra and Tris. Same rules as yesterday apply," he announced.

"You got this," Christina whispered to me as I tugged off my boots and socks. I nodded, giving her one last smile before hopping up onto the raised matting. I bounced on the balls of my feet, adjusting to the chalk-covered mat. It felt strange under my feet and I longed to put my boots back on, like I had yesterday.

Thinking of yesterday, I glanced quickly around the room while Myra slowly unlaced her other shoe. There was no sign of Eric anywhere. Disappointment twinged through me, though I quickly buried the feeling. Gritting my teeth I turned my attention back to my opponent. The only thing that mattered was this fight. Winning this fight.

Myra put her arms up stiffly, standing rigidly where she'd stopped. I slowly brought up my own guard and took a few tentative steps towards her. The brunette watched me warily, only stepping back when I got within arms length of her.

I squinted, analyzing her carefully. I hadn't paid attention to her fight yesterday against Peter, but even just looking at her now I formed a fighting strategy. She was nervous and far too stagnant in her motions.

Darting two steps forward, I lashed a fist out directly at her face. Myra gasped and threw her arm out to block the blow. Her block went wide and I easily followed up with my other fist, striking her cheekbone easily. She let out a whimper and batted at me with an open hand.

It was a weak response, one that I let land on my shoulder before I threw my knee up. I struck her side, glancing off her ribs ineffectively. My aim was off, and I growled under my breath in aggravation.

"Come on, Myra!" Edward called out hopefully from the sidelines. From the corner of my eye I saw Will jab an elbow 'accidentally' into the other boy's side and it made me smirk. Myra was backpedalling away from me, circling around the ring with frantic backwards steps.

This was hardly even a match, I thought wryly to myself as I quickly darted to the right. I cut her off from her circling, throwing a series of punches to her side that were straight from one of the cycles that Four had taught us. She blocked about half of them by sheer luck, wincing each time that my fists collided with her ribcage.

By chance she lashed out and struck me across my collarbone, her fist slamming hard into my still-healing tattoo. A wave of pain coursed through me and I staggered back, cursing. That hurt like a motherfu-.

Slam. My fist collided with her upraised arm. Crunch. I grabbed her retaliating strike, squeezing her fingers tightly together. Bam, bam, bam. I swept one leg behind hers and kicked her leg out from under her, kicking her shins until she slammed onto the mat.

I wrapped her arm tightly behind her back, ignoring her strangled cry of pain. She kicked weakly at me, but she didn't have enough force to reach me where I was perched just above her. I drew back my free hand and curled it into a tight fist. Just when I was about to let loose a knockout move, Four's voice echoed through the room.

"Tris, stop," he called out loudly. I looked up at him, loosening my hold on Myra's arm. His expression was unreadable, which made me uncomfortable. Myra dragged herself away from me, silent tears streaking down her face as she favored the arm I'd twisted.

I pushed myself back up and hopped off of the mat over by Christina and Al. My heartbeat was still pounding in my ears from the fight, leftover adrenaline and nerves making me feel all fluttery. I barely noticed Al's congratulatory clap on the shoulder.

I'd won. I'd beaten Myra in minutes with barely a mark on me. It didn't matter to me in that moment that she was probably the worst fighter in the group. The unease and worry that had been nested in my stomach all yesterday had smoothed out, leaving me feeling elated.

Will and Edward were stepping into the ring. Four circled my name on the chalkboard and I felt another surge of emotion. Pride, that was what it was. Grinning ferociously, I cheered for Will when he took his fighting stance. Finally I had something I could be legitimately proud of. I could be proud of myself, something so non-Abnegation that I could burst from happiness.

The two boys squared off in the ring and my voice joined in the growing din of encouraging cheering.