Christina held her hand out, pulling Al off of the mat with a frown creasing her face. He'd gone down after two minutes of awkward sparring between the two of them. I looked over at Four. He didn't seem to be very impressed overall. He circled Christina's name on the chalkboard and tossed the chalk down angrily.
"Right, so now that you've gotten at the very least one fight under your belt, you should be understanding the physical demands of being a Dauntless soldier," he said gruffly once the ring was clear. "Every day we will continue these fights. Try to use them as opportunities to further your skills, both physical and mental."
"Or just let out your frustrations and beat up whoever's ranked above you," someone called out from the entrance of the room. I twisted my head and stared as Eric sauntered in. Everyone else looked as well, Four sighing not-so-subtly. I frowned, not enjoying the idea that Eric pretty much wanted us to fight just for the sake of fighting. His smirk caught my eye, though, and I reconsidered what he said. It could have been a joke, much like his remarks to me this morning.
The idea lodged itself in my head and I made a mental note to stop assuming every comment that someone from Dauntless made was legitimately as ruthless as it sounded. Christina rolled her eyes and mouthed "what a prick" at me. I shrugged, keeping my thoughts to myself. It was still fairly likely that Eric legitimately was an ass who really did just want us to beat each other up for his entertainment.
Four was looking at Eric blithely, masking his irritation better now. "What can I do for you, Eric? We just finished up today's fights," he said in a polite voice.
Eric continued to smirk as he pulled out a set of metal keys, spinning them idly on his finger. "That works out perfectly, then. Lauren's group was going to take a trip out to the fence to observe the guard lines there. So I thought to myself, why not bring both groups and save the convoy trucks from making the same trip again," he replied smoothly.
His brow furrowing, Four crossed his arms and stepped closer to where Eric was standing. "Why not take the trains?"
"Because the trucks already have the sniper rifles loaded up and I couldn't remember when the next train was due in."
"Ten thirty," Four answered automatically, not even looking up at the clock over the door. After a beat he added, "I wasn't going to even try working on sniping until they've had more time with the other firearms."
We shifted uncomfortably in our loose circle by the fighting ring. Peter was shushing Drew, paying rapt attention to the conversation between the two other guys. Al edged closer to where I was standing, wearing his usual concerned expression.
Eric stopped spinning the keyring and gave Four a withering look. "The Dauntless-born aren't going to be working at the same time with the transfers, and I've already cleared out a section of the fence for target practice. So gather up your initiates and get to the motorpool," he ordered.
Turning on his heel, he stalked out of the room before Four could protest further. I snickered slightly, turning it into a cough when Four turned to look at the group. His frustration was aimed at us now and he pointed sharply to the door. "You heard him," he growled unhappily. "Go!"
I followed Will and Al towards the door, chewing on my bottom lip. Molly stomped past Four, fuming after being left out of the latest fights. "Where even is the motorpool?" she asked irritably. "We hardly even know where in this stupid complex to go half the time."
I bit back a laugh, choking on the bubble of air in my chest. She honestly was giving Four shit right now? After Eric just yanked on his metaphorical collar? Will raised an eyebrow and looked back at me, wincing as the motion pulled on his most recent bruises. Edward hadn't pulled any punches earlier.
"You need to learn to shut your mouth when you feel like making smart-ass comments," Four growled, his voice dangerously low. "Follow one of your more intelligent friends. Or learn to read the signs on the walls. But don't talk to your direct superior like he owes you for not paying attention to anything."
Everyone stepped just a bit faster and jogged down through the halls to the motorpool. I only vaguely remembered Four pointing it out to us after we'd come in to Dauntless. The garage doors leading out were rolled open, bright sunlight streaming in through the gaping openings. Gray heavy plated trucks lined the bays, some with doors thrown open, engines idling, and others stood dormant, massive testaments to the brute force that the Dauntless army wielded.
Four stalked over to where Lauren was standing, her initiates lounging on the seats and handrails of a pair of idling trucks. "Four," she grunted in greeting. "I see Eric told you about today's plan."
"All of six minutes ago," he replied, still less-than-amused.
Lauren barked out a laugh and shook her head. "I can't say I'm surprised. Sorry, I mean to talk to you about this at dinner yesterday," she admitted sheepishly.
"Trouble in paradise," Christina whispered, nudging me in the shoulder.
I snickered and rolled my eyes. "Dissent among the ranks is more like it," I whispered back. "Though they're the same rank, technically, right?"
"Who knows?"
"Who cares?" Al interjected, his hands stuffed firmly into his pockets. "So long as we're taking a break from fighting, they can bicker all morning long."
Someone called out for everyone to pile into the trucks. From what I gathered, the Dauntless-born were getting dropped at the target practice zone first and then we would get driven back to the fence line.
"Speaking of fighting," Christina started in a disarmingly gentle voice, "what the fuck happened in that ring, Al?"
I gripped the hanging strap that drooped in front of me from the roof as the truck lurched into motion. Al had managed to sneak into the seat next to mine, forcing Christina to sit across from me on the other side. Now she was glaring at him, ice shooting from her eyes.
His foot started bouncing up and down nervously, and the tall boy refused to meet her gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about," he retorted quickly. That was a lie, obviously. Everyone in the truck knew he'd thrown the fight. He wasn't fooling anyone.
Christina didn't let up. "Oh, so you expect me to believe that the guy who dropped Will in twenty seconds flat couldn't land a single blow on a girl half his size," she spat angrily.
"It was a tough fight," Al said lamely. I couldn't resist the urge to roll my eyes. It was about as tough as my fight with Myra, if not easier.
"No, Will fighting Edward was tough."
"Aw, shucks, Christina," Edward remarked from further down her side of the truck. "That's awfully nice of you."
"Shut up, I'm busy telling Al off," she retorted, though she did smile for a moment. "Seriously, man, what the fuck? You're not helping anyone by not fighting. And you're certainly not helping yourself."
The quiet boy lifted one shoulder, staring intently at his boots. "I don't want to hurt people I know," he said sadly.
A dark skinned boy - he must have been one of the Dauntless-born initiates - piped up. "Wow, I didn't realize we had taken in an Amity transfer," he said sarcastically. "Seriously, man, if you're not going to try to fight, you don't stand a chance. Fighting is kind of important for Dauntless."
Al seemed to collapse even further into himself, his head in his hands and finally I felt compelled to say something. "Wouldn't you rather fight Christina now than get kicked out to live factionless? It's not like you're going to actually hurt someone permanently anyways," I offered quietly.
His head nodded slowly, though he didn't stop cradling it in his hands. "Thanks, Tris," he mumbled, his words muffled.
I grumbled "you're welcome" and made a face at Christina. Why oh why was Al so difficult to deal with? Couldn't he figure this shit out by himself? The conversation stayed on the topic of fights as Peter started to interrogate the Dauntless-born about their rankings.
Gritting my teeth, I stared unseeing at the metal-plated ceiling. Comparing Christina and Al's to my fight versus Myra had made me reconsider this morning's triumph. It really had been too easy of a fight. I didn't even have a bruise on me, having dodged Myra's blows that might have actually left a mark. Compared to Will, I looked positively pristine. I could have easily blended right back in with Abnegation.
The thought made my blood boil. I wanted to belong here, in Dauntless. I wanted to look the part, dammit, even if it meant taking a punch - an actual punch.
Hell, I'd gotten more beaten up sparring with Eric.
The truck lurched, making me grip the hanging strap more tightly. We'd gone around a tight corner and now our small convoy was barrelling faster down the road towards the fence. "Alright, listen up," Four called out from the front of the truck. His voice echoed as he spoke into a radio, apparently talking to the truck behind ours as well.
"We're going to cross past the fence checkpoint to drop off Lauren's group at the practice range. You're all going to suit up in tactical gear, especially when working outside of the fence," he continued. "This isn't some Mid-Level field trip to the pier."
I looked over at Christina and raised my eyebrows in amusement. Four continued over the intercom, "After the Dauntless-born have their gear, Transfers are going to go back to the fence to walk the line with one of the squad leaders. If we're lucky, Amity will have a shipment coming through and you can observe the procedures at the checkpoint. If not, then the Dauntless-born will see them after the switch off."
Al made a face at the prospect of walking - was there anything about initiation he enjoyed? - much to my chagrin. He was insistent in catching my eye for every little reaction he had. I was getting very tired of chuckling at his every complaint. It came to me suddenly that I was under no obligation to actually indulge him, now that I was Dauntless, which made it easier for me to shake my head slowly in reply this time.
His crestfallen expression made my heart twinge guiltily. Was this really how I wanted to treat my newfound friend? The truck slammed over a large pothole, breaking into my thoughts and saving me from any further introspection.
"Any questions, keep them to yourself until we offload," Four said in conclusion, clicking the radio receiver off. The truck remained silent for a few minutes before the conversation trickled back into existence. Something about being only initiates rather than full members kept us from being quite so rowdy as typical Dauntless, which suited me just fine.
I made a few remarks in response to Christina or Al's conversations, laughing when Christina pointed out how great it was going to be to use a sniper scope with her black eye. "Hey, I'm just glad to be right handed," I chuckled. "Otherwise, bam! Rifle straight to the tattoos." I feigned firing, bumping my fist into my shoulder to emphasize the point. The laugh I got from the whole truck was nice.
Five more minutes of driving brought us to the break in the fence that was our destination. The trucks cruised up to the massive hydraulic lift gate, stopping smoothly by the concrete checkpoint booth. A Dauntless guard geared up in tactical gear hustled over to the first truck's passenger side. Eric's head peered out from it as he presumably informed the guard what we were doing.
The exchange between them was short - the fact that Eric was a Leader probably made the whole thing just a formality - and the guard soon waved both trucks through the lift gate. Just like that, we were outside of the wall, ambling along the dirt road that led to Amity farms and beyond.
"This is crazy," Will said under his breath. He was standing up, craning his neck to see out the dusty front windows. "We're actually outside of the walls right now."
Four must have overheard him. "That's right, since none of you were Amity this is your first time past the fence, isn't it?" he called out to those of us in the rear. He had been chatting with the driver for the whole trip thusfar rather than engaging with us lowly initiates.
"Yeah," Will replied. He stepped closer to the front of the truck, grabbing onto the back of Four's chair to steady himself. "I've never seen so much open space before."
I found myself also moving to get closer to the view. The thick glass didn't do it justice, though, and I tugged open the door closest to me instead. "Oh damn," I blurted out, unable to hold back my thoughts. My hand wrapped tightly around the grab bar above the door and I just stared out into the openness of the world.
The seventy-foot tall fence stretched and curved to my left, wrapping tightly around the city. Beyond that was a sea of dried grass slowly becoming alive, butting up against a forest of deep, verdant green. Past the forest lay the patchwork fields of Amity's farms and pastures. And farther beyond that, narrow and nearly invisible against the horizon, was just open nothingness.
It was beautiful.
I stood there, transfixed, as the trucks slowly turned rightwards, following the arching pathway that encircled the fence. Only the rumbling of the engines could be heard for at least an entire minute and we just stared at the world beyond Chicago.
"I'm so glad I left Candor," Christina said quietly, breaking the silence. Even the few Dauntless-born were quiet for once, taking in the view through the open door. After a while we all settled back down, shutting the door and once again bragging about our various successes in our training.
From what I could gather, the Dauntless-born were doing similar training to what we were. There was a marked interest in perfectionism from how they flaunted their speed during reps or efficiency in their fights. I swallowed back frustration at my own lack of fight experience. It sounded like they had done multiple rounds of sparring matches already compared to my singular fight. I chose to listen rather than jump in with my own comments, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.
The truck cruised to a halt eventually by a wide section of hard-packed earth. The grass around here was either dead or dying. We had to be pretty far away from the green of Amity. Four was out the door in seconds, hauling the passenger door open moments later. "Everybody out! Two people each grab a crate," he ordered. For once he wasn't barking at us, his commands just loud over the clamoring voices.
I welcomed the distraction. About half the group piled out as the others worked to haul out the steel gray cargo bins. I hefted one side of the last crate from our truck alongside the Dauntless-born who had told Al off for not wanting to fight. Jumping out while still holding my end was awkward, but I landed on my feet without too much concentration.
"You got it?" the dark skinned boy asked before hopping out. The sudden change in weight had stung my arms, but the crate didn't fall.
Small victories.
We hefted it over to where Lauren, Four, and Eric were standing. Lauren checked the stamp on the side of the crate and gestured for us to open it up. "That's got the tactical vests. Like Four said, everyone gets one," she repeated quickly before turning back to talk with the other trainers. The boy - I really needed to learn my fellow initiates' names - and I snapped back the latches and he hauled the top open.
"Wicked," he said with a grin. He pulled out one of the heavy black vests and scrutinized it. "Here Tris, this isn't going to fit me."
I took the vest and slid it over my tank top. He was right - it was just barely my size. "Thanks, uh…" I paused, not knowing how to address him.
He took pity on me, chuckling and flashing me a grin. "Uriah," he supplied as he pulled out two more vests. I nodded and committed his name to memory, glad to find another person who didn't immediately despise me because of my Abnegation heritage. Uriah passed one of the vests to me, donning another.
Peter stalked over and snatched the heavy bulletproof vest from my hand. "Maybe if you ask nicely they'll let you wear that vest when you fight, Stiff," he sneered. "Then you might have a shot at beating someone with actual skill."
I scowled, one hand curling into a tight fist. "Screw off, Peter," I retorted. His cronies, Drew and Molly, were right behind him. Drew stepped past me "accidentally" shoving my shoulder with his. "I'm not scared of you or your friends, so you can stop with the shitty intimidation."
That only made him smirk more as he pulled his vest on. "Oh, I'm not trying to scare you, Stiff. I just want you to be good and prepared for when you get cut in a few days," he replied casually. "It's going to be real sad, but I think the rest of us actual Dauntless will make it through."
Uriah twitched at that remark, turning to face Peter with a wry smile. "Don't you dare equate yourself to me or any of us Dauntless-born, Candor," he said in a sickly sweet voice. "Not when you're criticizing another Transfer just because she's not from here. Newsflash - you're not either. You're just being petty and stupid."
A girl with purple streaks through her hair came up from behind Uriah, a rifle slung over her shoulder and an ammo box on her hip. She looked like a smaller clone of Lauren, but without the stalwart confidence of the trainer. "Yeah, idiots, you just keep enjoying dress up while we go shoot," she said snarkily.
Peter's face twisted in barely contained rage and he stormed off, shadowed by Molly - in a vest that was far too small for her - and a jogging Drew. I wanted to say something clever to his retreating back, but everything I could think of was just unimpressive. I turned back to Uriah and his friend to help hand out the rest of the vests.
Once everyone had strapped on the tactical gear, including the vests, helmets, and thick goggles to protect from the wind and dust, the Dauntless-born hustled off to follow Lauren. Four ordered us to re-load the trucks with the empty cargo, and we were off to the checkpoint.
Christina, Will, Al, and I were the only initiates in the truck with Four. The rest of the transfers had gotten into the first truck with Eric, also conveniently leaving most of the cargo crates for us to load up. Will vowed to push all of them, especially Edward, off the edge of the fence when we got up there. I offered to help when my goggles fogged up from the effort of hauling in a sixth case.
We laughed, but only for a moment. There were still more crates to haul.
I wasn't sure how long we spent in the humid air outside. We'd walked - jogged, really - the top of the fence back and forth from the checkpoint to a security post, and then we had listened to one of the more seasoned guards talk about the dangers and demands of working the fence. Now my legs were aching and I was dying for something to eat.
The group was spread out by the open gate, waiting for Eric to return with the trucks and their drivers. A call had gone out from Amity farms that had the trucks tearing across the dusty landscape at a breakneck pace. That had been over an hour ago at this point.
Will was watching the horizon, a hand held over his eyes to block out the afternoon sun. "There's someone coming up, finally," he called out when a cloud of dust resolved itself into a gray blob.
Christina and I scrambled to our feet, more than ready to get out of the hot air. Come on, even just one truck could fit all nine of us and Four. I prayed for a respite from the boredom that was fence guard duty. We'd only been here for less than half of a day and I already knew I couldn't bear the job.
The dust cloud got closer and I felt my hopes come crashing down. I recognized the open cab and the cargo hold in the back. It was a shipping truck from Amity, fully loaded with produce for the factions inside the wall. It groaned to a halt outside of the checkpoint, the Amity inside turning off the engine like they did this every day. They probably did, actually.
"You two," the current checkpoint guard pointed to myself and Myra, "go around back and make sure there's nothing funny going on. No factionless scumbags hitching a ride back in."
I nodded and jogged over to the rear of the truck. Atop a pile of bagged grains sat a small cluster of red and yellow clad boys and girls. They had to be initiates, no older than Caleb or Edward. "Alright," I said nervously, my hands fidgeting behind my back. "Everyone off the truck. My colleague Myra's going to look over your cargo for a routine inspection."
The words came to me instantly, the only thing I could think to say to get them to think we had a clue what we were doing. Myra's eyes were wide with panic, but she held it together as the Amity initiates happily complied.
"Sure thing, Miss," one of the boys chirped as he hopped off the tailgate, and I realized I recognized his voice. I'd heard Robert say the same thing countless times as he helped a neighbor with their bags or carry a heavy piece of furniture.
As clear as daylight, my former neighbor smiled with blinding cheerfulness at me, completely at ease with his position in Amity. "Oh, Beatrice!" Robert greeted. "I barely recognized you with your hair down like that. And the mask, wow, that is fierce."
I felt my back stiffen in response to hearing my old name. "It's Tris now," I insisted sharply. Then, because I didn't want to seem rude to my former friend, I added, "New name for a new life, you know?" Myra scrambled up onto the bed of the truck, looking furtively around for anything odd. I was grateful that she missed hearing my old name. There was no telling if she'd share that information with Peter or Molly, who I was certain would love to harp on my old fashioned name.
Robert nodded quickly, his hands folding in front of him only for a moment before darting again to move animatedly as he spoke. "So you're doing well in Dauntless? Already getting assignments and work details out here at the checkpoint? We pass through here twice a day so I'm surprised I haven't seen you before today."
"Something like that," I said with a wry smile. "Observing the different details that are available." I didn't dare explain further, nor did I want to seem overly chummy with my former faction members. If "Faction before Blood" was such a big deal, "Faction before ex-Friends" was an absolute truth.
He started to ramble about how Amity was so different and "so much more freeing than Abnegation!" I nodded and smiled at all the right bits, but I also knew that I had a job to do. Cutting him off before he could explain exactly what farm animals he'd gotten to wrangle up so far, I asked the other initiates what faction they were from.
Like ducklings they all answered "Amity," which was rather obvious. I chewed on my lower lip and tried to think of something better to ask to verify that they weren't secretly factionless. Each of them answered my questions of the other factions current leaders and who their initiation leader was.
Their bright smiles and near-constant laughing was pretty much proof enough that they were all Amity through and through, but I'd wanted to be thorough. Satisfied that my job was done, I went back to talking with Robert. "So have you, you know, shot anyone yet?" he asked in a hushed voice. His friends had all jumped back onto the truck when Myra awkwardly yelled to the Dauntless guard that they weren't smugglers.
I looked at Robert incredulously. "You think we shoot people just for kicks in Dauntless?" I asked in a stunned voice. The rest of the factions might think us reckless or "hellians," but shooting an actual person was pretty far off from there.
He shrugged and I saw a bit of the old Robert there. "No offence intended, Be- er I mean Tris. Just curious I guess," he said sheepishly. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."
A rumbling was coming from the dirt pathway, this time sounding louder than the single Amity truck. "No, Robert, you're fine," I insisted. I still had some Abnegation left in me, too. "I mean, we do fight each other, so I guess it wouldn't be too crazy to also shoot each other up."
"Stupid, maybe," he laughed.
I nodded and laughed as well. "Yeah, right? Let's injure our new recruits to the warrior faction," I said with mock seriousness.
He jutted his jaw in the direction of my fellow transfers. "Some of you guys look pretty beat up," he said shortly. I waited a minute for him to add anything.
"And?"
"And nothing. Just commenting that your initiation seems to be a bit rougher than others. If it was too rough, I'd bet Abnegation would take you back," he offered with another shrug. "It'd be a lot safer and calmer than living with the warriors."
My hands clenched in fists quickly. "Yeah, well this is where I belong now," I spat angrily. I wasn't sure where this flare up of anger was coming from, but I wasn't going to fight it. The implication that I was going to turn tail and run away from Dauntless was beyond insulting to me. And then to add insult to injury Robert thought I'd break faction law and beg to go back to Abnegation?
"I'm not some flower loving, cow hugging hippie like you," I growled, my anger continuing in a rush of words. "I'm sure as hell not going to throw away the chance to grow and do something for myself for the first time in my life, either. So don't you dare suggest I'd ever want to run away from Dauntless because it was too rough for me. You don't know me."
Robert's face was ashen by the time I finished. Somewhere within me was a girl in Abnegation grey who felt terrible for shouting at him. But she was far overwhelmed by the fury of a Dauntless initiate waving a gun at all who opposed her.
He swallowed once, twice, and then nodded shakily. "Right, of course not," he said practically in a whimper. "I-...Your new friends are leaving. You should probably go, too."
I whirled around, having completely missed the pair of convoy trucks when they'd passed through the lift gate. I'd fallen entirely into a tunnel of anger and self-righteousness. "Thanks," I said reflexively, turning on my heel to run towards the plated vehicles.
I almost thought he hadn't heard me until I caught the sound of Robert calling out, "Go with happiness, Tris!" Trust an Amity to forgive my rage that quickly. Or maybe trust an ex-Abnegation to put selfish anger behind them equally as fast. I threw a quick wave back to him without looking, hoping it would serve as an apology until I got the chance to say it earnestly.
My legs pounded on the hard-packed earth as I ran to the convoy. My heart rate spiked - or maybe it just stopped for a second - when I realized they were starting to lurch forward. Goddammit, why didn't they wait for me? How did Will or Al or Christina not notice I wasn't in the truck?
I pushed harder, trying to make it to the side of the truck. There was a small set of steps to the door and a grab bar. I just had to make it five more steps, four, three-
The ground under me dipped, a pothole from some settling stone worsened by last week's rain, and I almost rolled under the very truck I was trying to get onto. The passenger door slid open and someone - the goggles and black combat gear made everyone look the same - leaned out of the open door.
I regained my step and darted quickly to land one foot onto the stairs. My hand grabbed blindly for the grab bar and crushed around the person's shoulder instead. "Shiiiit!" I shrieked, the motion of the truck nearly shaking me loose from my unsteady perch. I rallied and looped my other ankle firmly around the metal steps, not daring to trust my feet alone.
"I thought you were going to actually get left behind. Or get run over. Which would have been shitty for me. So much paperwork," Eric drawled, not seeming to be bothered in the slightest by any of this.
Shit.
My free hand grabbed the bar above me, but I didn't have anywhere else to put my other hand. I lessened my grip on his shoulder though before I replied. "Oh yeah, I'd rather be crushed under a truck than have to do paperwork," I wheezed.
The road below me rolled on faster and faster, and the slipstream from the increase in speed pushed me closer to his chest. "Clearly you've never done paperwork before," he retorted with a smirk. The truck lurched over another pothole. Eric's arm snaked around my waist, tethering me to him while keeping me from actually coming inside. I found myself thanking the thick goggles for obscuring the flush creeping across my face that wasn't due to the sun and wind.
"Next time you try jumping onto a moving truck, don't fuck up so much," Eric said wryly. I wanted to protest, but he was stepping back, pulling me fully into the truck. Once I had both feet on the steel plated flooring I broke free from his grasp, moving to the driver's side to hold onto one of the straps.
Besides the driver, myself, and Eric the truck was empty. My hopes of having someone to talk to faded instantly. Part of me surged at the thought of figuring out the enigma that was Eric, but that got squashed as well. He slammed the sliding door shut and moved back to the passenger seat next to the driver.
My heartbeat returned to normal, I stared down at my feet. What was wrong with me? My emotions couldn't deal with the constant reversals in Eric's mood. He'd offer to train me in how to fight in one moment and then the next mock me for missing load up. It was easy to hate him, like Peter. But there was more to him than a petty jerk.
At least, I hoped there was more to him. It could just have been the "accidental" touches - that I was now convinced were anything but - talking to me, but I wanted to believe that Eric had more to him than "Ruthless Leader." After all, I had more to me than "Ex-Stiff."
A/N: I absolutely loved the convoy vehicles in Insurgent. Whoops, can you tell? They were there for two whole minutes and I just immediately needed to see more of them in the world. So I decided to have them make a nice little cameo slash PLOT DEVICE in this chapter. You're welcome, readers.
I turned Robert kind of into nerdy farm boy and honestly I hope that's okay because I really don't remember how he was in Divergent?
Ch 9 will focus on sniper training, aka "Eric gets touchy feely while simultaneously teaching Tris how to become a more precise killer" aka exactly what their relationship should be forever and always. Right now it's confusing and that's intentional. Neither knows what to think of the other. Eric thinks she's either brilliant or going to fuck up terribly. Tris thinks he's an egotistical jackass or a tease. Where is this going? No one knowssss~! (That's a lie. I know. You know. We all know. It's tagged in the description. But the journey is so very important!)
[Edit - 6 Sept 2017]
I finally went back and adjusted the order of events such that Tris & Co are actually beyond the wall where they're supposed to be when they drop off their Dauntless-Born buds. Also added in some very minor tweaks and edits. The only other minor thing changed was making Tris realize that she's being a dick to Robert and make a very small attempt to acknowledge it. She still needs to genuinely apologize, but I didn't want to edit this chapter too heavily.