I'm the first one to wake. My eyes crack open to only be greeted by darkness. Glancing at the clock on the wall, which is thankfully illuminated at the edges, it reads 7am. I had woken with the sun, just like back in Amity.
An hour till training. Pulling the covers off me, my body is hit with unnaturally cold temperatures. I reach for my nose to find it slightly numb.I hate the cold.The fact that Dauntless was underground had slipped my mind, I don't know why the fact that it's freezing surprises me.
It's moments like these that I miss Gunner, I never had a problem with the cold at night since he was always my leg warmers. At the thought of my dogs, I reach for the photograph under my pillow, grimacing when I creased it even more during my sleep. Moving silently to the edge of my bed, I tuck the image deep inside the trunk.
My hands freeze when water touches them. I brush my teeth quicker than I ever had before, rubbing my eyes in attempt to shake off the sleep. Creeping out in the dormitory, I fold my arms tightly around me, teeth clattering. I know my nose is red, just like it was minutes ago in front of the mirror. The temperature in the dining hall is just as cold as I woke. It is mostly empty, saving me from embarrassment, with a few members and Dauntless-born initiates eating breakfast before heading off to start their day. I blink a few times as I notice that all of them wear either sleeveless or short-sleeved clothes. Stupid Amity, stupid temperatures.
Settling with an apple, I walk off to the direction of the training room, hoping that running will help warm me up. I make a mental note to get warmer clothes tonight, the tank top and leggings I'm wearing makes me might as well go naked.
Four and Eric are the only ones in the training room when I enter, having a heating argument over something. Their eyes snap to me when they hear the door close. Four lifts an eyebrow at my entrance while Eric merely stares – all he seems to do lately. Eric's eyes trail down my form, looking amused at how I hug myself. "Apple-picker." He greets simply, his argument with Four long forgotten. I blink. Heat rises to my face as I glance at the half eaten apple in my hand. I don't respond, since I would probably blurt out something unintelligent if I tried. I take a bite of the apple instead, praying that the apple's skin would dull the colour in my cheeks and nose.
Four, noticing the awkward silence and realising that he can no longer converse privately with Eric, asks irritably. "Are the rest eating breakfast?"
"Urm." I swallow, clenching my jaw to will my teeth not to clatter. The tip of Eric's mouth curls to a smirk, finding joy in my struggle. "They were still asleep when I left."
Four stares at me for a second then rubs his face. He mumbles incoherent curses about transfers under his breath. "Stay here." He says already stomping out of the door, not before picking up a crowbar. The clock above the door reads 7:45am. Ah.
Dread suddenly fills me as Four's words sink in, I open my mouth to protest but the door slams shut before I can utter a word. I keep my eyes on the door longingly, the idea of heading out to follow him floating around my mind mockingly.
Counting to ten, I suck a deep breath and turn to face the young leader, only to find him across the room with his back towards me, fiddling with some equipment. Maybe being alone with him wasn't the worst thing in the world.
I spoke too soon.
"Apple-picker, tree-hugger or flower-sniffer?"
"What?" I say dumbly, mouth full of apple.
"Choose." He replies, his back still towards me.
I move to throw the apple core in the bin, deciding that a run would definitely warm me up. "Anna." I say.
"So she has a name." He pauses for what I assume is for dramatic effect, or that he's thinking. "Though, that wasn't one of the options" He drawls. I stretch out the muscles in my legs, then bend down to touch my toes. "I think…" He starts back up, turning towards me and leaning against the table behind him. I narrow my eyes at him, stretching my arms as he stares. "I like all, the ones I suggested of course."
Huffing, a scowl etches on my face. Eric grins widely at my reaction, his lips pull back to reveal two rows of illegally straight white teeth. "Whatever." My legs start moving, falling into a rhythm that I'm used to before I transferred.
It's only when I pass him does he speak up again, the shit-eating grin still on his face. "Don't like it?" He says, I don't look back at him.
"It doesn't matter." It's the truth. Self-sufficiency is a part of the Amity manifesto, I learned from a young age to not care of what people thought of me.
Four comes back in with a scowl on his face to match. He chucks the crowbar to the side, eyeing Eric's grin and my face suspiciously. He doesn't ask about what transpired when he was gone, I don't think I want to tell him if he did. I complete a circuit around the room, the light exercise doing it's trick on warming my body up.I should do this more often.Slowing down, I move the where Four stands looking at a bunch of papers.
I feel it before I hear it. The floor rumbles as heavy footfalls lands, my eyebrows rise to my forehead as I hear the transfers running. They enter the room breathless. 8:02am. Most of the boys have their hair still sticking up in random directions, giving away the fact that they were only asleep minutes ago. The girls don't look much better, hair in messy ponytails and faces pale. I turn away from them, cringing at their tardiness. Eric had moved to stand beside Four, arms crossed and chest puffed out, the smile replaced by a sneer.
The young leader reminds me of Gunner, when he tries to intimidate the cobras in Amity. Between the dog and snake, it's always stare down, both too prideful to back off. Except, these transfers aren't venomous snakes, and Eric isn't trying to prove he's the bigger Alpha male. He is the Alpha male.
"Nice of you to finally make it." He snarls. The transfers look everywhere but him. Some turn to glare at me, as if being early was now a crime. I school my features to feign indifference, deciding that Eric's glowering is much more tolerable than the rest of my initiation batch. A moment of expected silence passes, no one daring to speak up or make an excuse. After a while longer, Eric nods once to Four, who's been standing stoically through the exchange.
Taking a deep breath, Four waves us to follow him to the long table Eric was leaning against earlier. The table held handguns, all laid out neatly in a row, complete with a box of ammo on the side. "First thing you'll learn is how to take apart one of these." He picks up a gun and holds it high for all to see. "Then you'll learn how to shoot." He then proceeds to pick the gun apart, the transfers rush forward when they realise that he had started the demonstration. I stand to the side, watching his swift skilled movements. Eric's on my left, arms still folded. I try not to fidget. Even silent, his brooding presence still screams danger.
When Four finishes, he steps away for us to practice. I don't hesitate, Eric's presence has been making me apprehensive. Picking up the gun, I turn it over my hand and weigh it. It was definitely heavier than it looks. I now understand why they come with holsters, my pants would fall off without them. Other than it's weight, the parts of the gun are somewhat familiar to the images of the book I read up about them. Facing the muzzle of the gun away from me, I feel for the magazine release, a small button at the handle. Finding it, I push down; the magazine drops into my awaiting palm.
"Are the rest of you deaf?" Eric booms. My face twitches, but I somehow manage to suppress laughter down. I glance at Four who has his eyes on the wall. I'm not sure if he's trying to hold back laughter, or finds the grey-stained walls interesting. The initiates scramble to the table, some having to move as the stations nearest to them fills up. The bulky Erudite boy stands next to me, grabbing the gun like he's done this before. I'm only halfway through pulling out spring and he's already done. Eric moves down the line, grunting in approval as he eyes the dissembled gun of the Erudite. The boy smirks and stares straight at me. I don't react, not giving him the satisfaction of my shock. Instead, I pretend to not notice, continuing as before. Four's further down the line helping, face irritated when one of the girls manage to get the barrel stuck. I would be irritated too.
I repeat the process of assembling and dissembling the gun over and over, my arms aching from being held up so long. The Erudite does the same, only faster. He waits for the moment I start before he does, the sly smirk appearing each time he places the gun with an audible thump, each time seconds faster than me. My eye twitches in annoyance. Don't. React.
When Four tells us to break, my arms are about to fall off. Mark drops the gun onto the table, sighing in relief. Eric snaps at him, making the rest of us slowly lay it down. I shake out my arms as Four moves to a target. He explains his posture briefly before turning to fire thrice, all dead centre. This time, everyone immediately grabs their box of ammo, moving to the vacant targets. I'm forced to choose a place among the middle, the sides filling up first. The sickly Candor girl on my right and a boy on my left. I fill the magazine with the bullets, taking it slow since there isn't a rush. I practice my posture before I fire, rehearsing Four's advice in my head. The Candor girl shoots; it seems accidental. The recoil makes her stumble back, tripping over her feet and landing like a heap. My ears ring and I briefly wonder how I'm supposed to get used to this.
The first shot I make hits the outer-most ring; I cringe. The recoil isn't too bad, so long as I relax my muscles. Tilting my gun higher, I try again. This time, it hits the third closest ring. It takes me one entire magazine before I'm able to hit in the centre ring. I smile in victory, my first true accomplishment of the day – since I kind of knew how to dissemble a gun beforehand. The girl beside me continues to struggle, only two of her shots hitting the target.
Did she not listen to Four at all?
I hear Eric snapping at one of the boys and make the split second decision to help her.
"Your shoulders are too tense." I start awkwardly, I wasn't used to helping people verbally, mostly through actions, like in Amity. The girl looks at me perplex. I stifle a sigh and move towards her, gripping her shoulders and repositioning her arms. "Try again." She shoots before I have time to step back, making my ears pop from how close I am to her gun. I look away to glare at the target. She hits the fourth inner ring. Thanking me, I wave her off and stride back to my station, refilling the magazine.
Eric passes us as I'm pushing the magazine into the well. He doesn't say anything to the Candor girl, who's now consistently hitting the target. It's at that moment I wonder why I helped her.
An Amity trait?
After another thirty minutes of shooting, Four gives us a short break before moving onto the punching bags. He shows us the proper way to throw a punch, pointing out mistakes that are commonly made. I mostly zone out through his lecture, since I already knew how to fight. Eric left after the shootings, not before yelling at a few more people. The air became much lighter the moment he step through the door. I was watching Four as the leader left, his shoulders immediately sag.
There is definitely bad blood between those two.
The rest of training went by quickly, some of the initiates gathering some guts to ask if their form is right. The wimpy Candor girl sticks by my side, I don't know if I like it.
When lunch hour comes, I sit by myself – exhausted and tired. I'm about to enjoy my peace and quiet when the Candor girl moves to sit across me. The twitching in my eye can't be stopped. "Hi! Erm, thanks for helping me earlier…" She trips over her words; I do my best to stare blankly. Her voice is high-pitched and makes my ears burn.
Just what I needed.
"I'm Riley." She settles, running out of coherent words to form. Her eyes are hazel and too big on her sharp face. She has a small nose and thin lips. I suppose she could pull off as looking cute. Her hair is tied in a neat ponytail, jet black as it reflects off the dim lights of the mess hall.
"Anna." I start shovelling food in my mouth, a hint for her to stop talking, or better yet: leave.
She does neither. "So you practice beforehand or something?" She asks. I can't tell if she implying target practice or bag-punching; I don't bother to ask.
"No, not really. I just-" I swallow thickly, catching a sarcastic remark at the last moment. 'Listened to Four' my mind finishes for me. I clear my throat. "I read briefly that relaxing your shoulders when shooting eases the recoil."
"I didn't know Amity people read." Crap; I've said too much. She seems genuinely curious though; my eye twitches again.
"Just because we pick apples all day, doesn't mean that we're illiterate." I point my fork at her. Her cheeks turn red in embarrassment. "Plus, I only skimmed through the book, I kinda knew I was going to join Dauntless much earlier." I add quickly, dropping my gaze to continue with my food. The Candors are perceptive, one long look at me and they might be able to tell I'm lying. I don't know if the girl is bright, but I don't want to find out.
She seems to eat my words, going back to her own food. My shoulders sag in relief.
A/N
This app likes to mess with me, the format messes up when I transfer the text :D Including this A/N
This chapter was pretty funny to write. Hope you enjoyed it!