Thank you so much to Bamberlee for editing this chapter and sending it way early. We left earlier than expected, so I'm just getting it updated now.
Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I know Ian was a lot to take in but things will change very soon.
Have a really good weekend! đź’•
"Just a little off the top."
"Are you sure?" Everly looks at me like I'm insane, and I tilt my head up to look at her. The height reversal goes unnoticed by her, but it makes me smirk. "You really want me to cut your hair?"
She stands in between my legs, wearing a dark dress. It's fitted at the waist, the sleeves are poufy, and I would hate it, except she looks really pretty. These thoughts were becoming more and more frequent, all about her, and the soft and easy way she existed, and I was sure my brain was melting.
The standards Erudite had drilled into me were fading away and being replaced with the fuzzy buzz of living here. Order and perfection meant nothing in Amity, unless it came to putting your chickens in alphabetical order or working hard to build a chicken manor for your chicken king. It had been weeks since I'd seen a carefully pressed shirt or ironed slacks. My world of blues and whites had faded not to black, like was prophesied, but into a swirling landscape of golds, pinks, and deep maroons.
My internal struggle raged on with each day, like I needed to pick a slice of the color wheel or die. My choices were simple: either give in and chance actually being happy, or fight against knowing which crops grew best in what weather.
It's lettuce.
Hank told us yesterday.
"Is there a barber somewhere who I missed?" I cock my eyebrow at Everly, and she reluctantly informs me there is not. At least, not an official one. She reaches forward, tentatively, and she takes the longer section of hair between her fingers. "Your mom, maybe? It seems like she does everything."
"Nah, you gotta go see Carole and risk her cutting your ear off," Everly laughs, and she pulls gently to see how long my hair is. Neither of us bring up my sudden trust in her mother. My thinking is, if she could sew someone's head back together, she probably could trim my hair. "Are you sure you want me to cut it? What if it looks terrible?"
"It's too long. Just trim the ends. You have scissors, right?" I crane my head up at her, again, fighting the urge to walk to Erudite and find the barber I'd gone to. It would restore a little control in my life, but it would also prove impossible.
One quick nod and a stroll into the kitchen later, she returns. She has a comb in her hands, and she instructs me to get my hair wet in the sink.
"I thought you didn't know how to do this."
My comment makes her grin, and when I return, she moves behind me.
"Twice a year, I help my mom cut Zander's hair. There is no barber here, so you either grow your hair out…or find someone who can cut it." Everly combs my hair, and the feeling is odd. It's no different than the barber I saw back home, but her fingers are much gentler. "Do you want me to trim it off your neck?"
"Sure."
I sit silently while she works, and I admit, there's a fleeting wave of concern that she'll chop the whole thing off. I wouldn't entirely mind; I like it short, but it was always cut with a razor before. I stay still and Everly wastes no time; she's careful, but confident with her work. She's faster than I would have ever imagined. When she moves around to cut the front, her pause makes me look up. "What?"
"It's curly."
"No, it's not," I shake my head, and she brightly tells me to hold still. "I don't have any gel here so it looks different."
"Yeah, because it's curly. You know, Judd probably has hair gel," Everly suggests, and she steps right in between my legs. She examines the top intently, before cutting a few pieces. "I bet he'll give it to you if you volunteer to hang out with him. Oh, maybe you could work there."
"I'd rather die, but thanks," I answer flatly, and she giggles at her own hilarity. "I'm good. I'll work…elsewhere."
"Forrest said you can work with him," she suggests softly, and I spend a minute imagining telling Daniel I'd taken a job not in a lab, and not as the leader of Dauntless, but serving drinks in a family run bar in Amity, under the watchful eye of the guy who'd offered me his sister as a wife. "He'll hire you without question."
"I'm thinking of starting my own chicken compound. Just…nothing but chickens as far as the eye can see." I say this slowly, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Get into chicken marriage, chicken fighting, chicken divorce. The whole thing."
Everly stops. She steps back to look at me, tilting her head and her lips part. "Did someone give you peace serum? Was it Jake and Ryan? I told them not to give you any unless you asked."
"I'm joking," I snicker, and a look of relief flashes across her face. "I don't know what I'm going to do. Maybe…I'll….I'll figure it out. I doubt it'll involve chickens, though."
"I wouldn't worry," Everly's answer is reassuring, soft and sweet and meant for someone else. Sometimes, just like now, she's too good to be real. Despite Landon saying he'd been burned by her, I couldn't imagine what had gone wrong. His scorn was personal –presumably over her not wanting to marry him, and one sided.
She seems just fine with things.
"I'm not worried," I snap, and she doesn't acknowledge my half lie.
"My dad will hire you. You could run a greenhouse!" Her eyes light up, and I blink up at her. "What? No? You don't like that idea?"
"Has Amity always run off nepotism? Next you'll tell me Johanna is your real mom."
She swats at me, halfhearted at best, then instructs me to go look at my hair. "I think it looks good but tell me if you want more off. I heard Noelle likes it long, so keep that in mind."
"Are you always this funny?" I look right at her with an unimpressed glare, and I don't break eye contact. I pull my shirt over my head, shaking out the loose hairs, and she keeps her gaze on my face. It drops for a second, but she catches herself and points to the mirror.
"Only for you. Now hurry up. I want to get ready for bed," her yawn muffles her words, and she does look tired.
She'd been gone all day. She'd spent it with her mom, and over our dinner, she explained she didn't think she wanted to work with her in the infirmary. She said this afternoon, someone came in to have a baby, and it was far bloodier than she was ready for.
The look on her face hinted Everly might not be on board with having five kids, either.
"You probably want to wash it out or you'll be itchy," Everly calls out, and I hear her sweep up the hair she's cut.
I walk into the bathroom, and when I see myself, I stop.
She's cut my hair entirely different than I'd ever had it cut before, and not just because she's not a trained barber. My hair is long, especially the top, but it's not so unkempt at the bottom. It looks nice, definitely not as straight as I prefer it, but it's way better than before.
I contemplate how thrown off I am by not looking like myself.
The Eric Coulter in Erudite was fine. Strong, confident, unwilling to take anyone's shit. I knew I looked young, and the blue uniforms and starched shirts loudly announced I was still in school, and not an actual productive member of society. I kept indoors unless I was with Rylan, and the result was an arrogant, vampiric appearance, especially when I was forced to smile.
Here, the Eric Coulter before me is something I wouldn't think possible. Hours of working in the fields and being active have carved out muscle I didn't know I had. My skin is tan, a golden tone thanks to almost everyone ditching their shirts as the sun bore down on us, and it only highlights the added definition.
Throw in the plaid button-down shirts which the farmers swore by, the dark work pants, and two days' worth of stubble and I look like someone else. I almost can't look away, which is why Everly wanders in, raising her own eyebrows.
"Well?"
She stares up at my hair, a few pieces curling and far longer than I've ever had it, and she looks pleased with her work.
"It's…good. Thank you. I think I will take a shower before bed." I turn toward her, and when she doesn't budge, I reach to unbutton my pants. "You staying in here or what? I thought you were tired."
"You're welcome. I think it looks nice," Everly chews on her bottom lip, and I know something's up.
"What? You want to take a shower with me?" I unzip the pants without breaking her stare, and her cheeks turn pink. She watches me, blinking once, then tilting her head like she's considering it. "There's plenty of room."
"Thanks for the offer, but no. I just…do you ever wonder what would have happened if we both picked Dauntless? I was thinking about your friends and if they were doing okay. Maybe we should call them."
The disappointment I feel is odd. I glare at her, kicking the pants in her direction. She glares back, kicking them away from her. We have a silent glare down, her in her black dress and me in my boxers, until I sigh.
"Alright, fine. I think about it every so often. It sounds appealing, sure. However, you'd be dead by now, so I think you're better off here. Even if your dad is there. And if it makes you feel better…Rylan said he'll call in a few days. I'm sure he'll want to talk to you, too, not just me."
"Harrison told me their initiation is rough." She's disappointed as ever, and not at all bothered by my state of undress. I reach for the waistband of my boxers, and she finally slinks away. "Alright, well I'll wait for you to go to bed."
She shuts the door behind her, and I spend at least an entire minute staring at it, realizing I wouldn't have minded one bit if she'd stayed.
I force myself not to think about that while I wash my hair.
The allure of her increases when she faces me as I climb into bed.
Her nightgown, always something that looks youthful but is way too sheer to be for a child, is pink and ruffly. I dislike it immediately, much preferring when she wore a tank top or one of my shirts. This has too much fabric, but it slides down, and she doesn't fix it.
"Do you think you'll see Ian again?" Everly waits until I lie down, and I should have known- she likes to save her inquisitions until bedtime. "I could go talk to him. I think he meets with my dad sometimes."
I shake my head no. She doesn't say anything else, so I press the heel of my hand into my eyes and I stay that way. I feel the bed shift, and when I open them, she's right beside me. "I wouldn't bother. He made it very clear he wants nothing to do with the Coulter family."
"Well, you could change your last name. You can have mine."
I can't tell if she's being serious or joking. I turn my head to look at her, and her lips turn up. "Then you could go visit him again and tell him you're Eric –"
"I don't need to see him again. I understand what he was saying. He wants –"
"It's not right, though," Everly interrupts, quietly, and she moves closer. She's so close now that her head could be on my chest, and her fingers graze mine. "He's still your family and he lives here. He should be nice. Or at least not have told you he didn't want to see you again."
I frown. It's hard to forget the memory of him visibly bothered by my arrival and replace it with Everly's logic that everyone should be nice to whoever is family. He might live in Amity, but he hadn't grown up here. "It's fine. You don't have to be upset on my behalf. He's happy with his life here, and I'm…I'm…"
I can't bring myself to say I'm happy, and she knows it.
Her smile that follows is slight, forced and dejected, and she sinks into her pillow.
"I know. Okay, well, I won't say anything. Goodnight, Eric."
"Everly…"
Her name floats over both of us, and she lets it. She keeps her eyes closed, and her deep exhale tells me she doesn't like this one bit. Everly is fiercely loyal, and so is her family. I could probably wander to Forrest's house right now and ask for a job and he'd readily agree. I know she doesn't understand how you just give up on someone, but it's not anything new to me.
It still sucks.
Even now, the memory of Ian informing me he'd had no intention of ever knowing me stings, right beneath my ribs. It lessens when Everly sighs, and I know she's not really asleep.
"Goodnight."
I reach out, brushing the hair off her face, and her eyes stay closed.
She doesn't move, not even when my fingers touch her temple, and they stay there, until I close my eyes and sleep wins out.
"Okay, so you have the thing with Howard and I have to meet with my mom. But you'll be back tonight? I was thinking I'd make spaghetti for dinner."
Everly, dressed differently today, stares at me while she leans back against the counter. She has a shorter dress on, this one less romance novel cover worthy and more ready to lay out by the lake, and her hair is pulled up. She waits for my answer, and eventually she glances up when I don't respond right away.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I answer flatly, devoid of anything other than sheer annoyance. I'd woken up with my arm over her, the feeling like I hadn't slept, and the dull reminder that my own uncle had zero interest in knowing me.
I add him to the list of family members to whom I have no connection. The tally reaches three, and I idly wonder if there are any more.
As much as I pretend the opposite, it bothers me that Ian was able to so easily tell me to get lost. I suppose I should pride him on standing his ground and living up to the Coulter name. He was exactly like Daniel, swift and very certain in his decision. The ironic part is he was furious over what had happened to him –the complete dismissal by his own family—yet he'd done the exact same thing to me. True, I am only related thanks to Daniel, but I would figure he'd be proud of someone who had walked away from the Coulter family.
Everly must be a mind reader. She holds my stare, frowning at the look on my face. "Are you sure you don't want me to ask my dad about Ian? He could…you know…." She trails off, and I wait patiently for her answer.
She doesn't have one.
"What? Smack him around? Take away his fancy phone? Just leave him be. He's happy with his life here and I did show up unannounced. Anyone would have been thrown off," I point out logically, but Everly, and everyone else here, doesn't always like logic.
"Eric…"
"Everly, I swear on…. Carole's next husband's life, it's not a big deal. Not everyone likes each other. Not even here." I stop beside her, and she looks up with a scowl. "What? Was it the part about Carole's husband? You can't tell me there's not some weird shit going on with Howard. He's one missing chicken away from vanishing himself."
She fights off a smile.
Her lips threaten to turn up, and she has to really focus on staying mad.
"You're not wrong. Forrest thinks she's trying to poison him so she can have all the chickens," Everly uncrosses her arms, and she steps closer.
Always closer.
There is no distance when it comes to her. The close proximity should be annoying, given how no one else dared stand by me like this, but it works with her. She's so close I could yank her against me, and the concept of anything happening with her is foreign.
I only have Ashley to compare her to.
Ashley would have taken the situation and run with it. Everly seems to be testing it out. Maybe she is testing me. Maybe she'd be the one to decide she didn't want to marry anyone, and when all was said and done, I'd be left scrambling to avoid marrying Noelle.
For a bleak second, I picture myself factionless, trying to find Rylan so he can buy me coffee.
"Is spaghetti okay? May told me how to make it. I don't think it'll be that hard. We could eat at six." I can hear her talking, and I nod, but my mind shows me more. I see Noelle running past with a dozen goats, and Ryan and Jake, in their imaginary army, laughing as they walk by with Landon.
"Are you even listening? I just asked if you wanted me to have Zander come over and you nodded." Everly touches my shirt, fixing a single button while she shakes her head. She slides it back through the hole, and her fingers press down to make sure it stays. "His birthday is coming up. I'm sure my parents will ask if we want to go celebrate with them."
The association with her is strange; less than a day after I met her, I was encouraged to marry her. I was assigned to live with her, given an entire house, a single bed, and pushed toward her like someone was just waiting to see how it turned out. Everly had no issues with any of it, and as a result, we were paired up in every aspect. Her mother would assume I'd be with her, and everyone in Amity assumes she is with me.
"Eric, are you sure you're alright? You aren't even talking." Everly reaches up to fix the collar of my shirt, well, Forrest's shirt. I know it's his because he'd written his name on the tag, but I have to admit it is a nicer shirt than any of the other ones. "I can get dessert, too. May said brownies go well with spaghetti and –"
Her fingers skim my neck, and I reach for her.
My brain must short wire, because I slide my arm around Everly's waist, and I pull her the remaining few inches. Her head hits my chest, and I bend down before I can stop myself.
"Sure, sounds good. I'll make sure I'm back. Unless Carole kills me."
"Um…she won't." Everly's answer is muffled, and I take a second to memorize the feeling of her against me. The weight of her is pleasant, sort of reassuring and warm. My fingers press against her spine, working up until I find the middle of her shoulder blades, and she leans further into me, unmoving.
There's no hesitation on her part; her cheek rests against my shirt, and her own fingers press firmly.
The physical act of hugging evokes a strange reaction in me. I want to push her away, even though I'm the one who grabbed her, but it only takes a second before I relax. I like her against me, and there's a comfort to the feeling of her hands on my chest and the way she's leaning into me.
I'd dare think she likes this, and I find I want her to.
"Eric, do you want—"
I swallow thickly. She smells good, like the same flowery shampoo I'd washed my hair with and like the clean sheets in our bedroom. The shared space feels fitting with her, and even more fitting is the way she freezes.
Her fingers curl into my shirt, and I pull away abruptly at the overwhelming feeling of holding her.
I'm allowing this because I'm pissed off at my uncle. It is nothing more, nothing less. I had been dismissed by him, and now, here I am, seeking validation from a girl whose whole future hinges on getting married and helping the Amity faction have enough vegetables.
"I have to go. I'll see you tonight." I take off before she can ask me what on Earth I'm doing or what's wrong.
Which is a good thing.
Because for the second time in my life, I have no clue.
"Hey, Eric. Over here."
Jake waves with the enthusiasm of one hundred members of Amity. He beams at me from the porch of the general store, and it takes everything in me to walk over to him. I spy Judd through the window, ringing someone up, and he cheerfully bags their purchase.
"What?"
My bored tone isn't truly aimed at him; today, I'm supposed to meet up with Howard so he can show us something to do with farming equipment. It isn't high on my list of exciting moments in Amity, but I would have to pick something to do here. I can't finish initiation with absolutely nothing planned, and my options are limited to what we'd been shown.
There is also the tiny, nagging reminder that I'd lost my mind and hugged Everly. It was such a stupid act, a dumb gesture that would lead her to believe there is something going on, and it would ruin everything.
I can't go back home and pretend nothing happened, and I can't go back home and confess I like being close to her, and I am dealing poorly with learning about my uncle. She is the only bright spot in my day, and who knows how she'll take that news.
It is an awful lot to be the only reason I'm still in Amity, still pushing through initiation.
"Hey, so uh, I talked to Ryan." Jake gestures for me to step further toward the store. I do, and he looks left, then right, and his grin is conspiratorial. "I want in."
"In on what?" I shove my hands in my pockets, and I narrow my eyes as something dawns on me. "Wait, are you talking about –"
"The army, yeah! He said you guys talked, and we'll all have our normal jobs but this will be on the side." Jake is thrilled at this idea, and I hate to tell him Ryan had come up with this brilliant plan on his own. "So…what do you think? Can I be in your army? I know you'll make a great leader. Everyone thinks so. Not just because you were supposed to go to Dauntless."
I stare back, pressing my lips together in disbelief that he knows such a fact, but I finally shrug.
"Sure. Why not?"
"Cool!"
I tell him I have to leave, and he doesn't care.
He's over the moon at this official, nonexistent position, and I let him be.
The initiate housing is exactly what I imagined.
It's chaotic, loud, and entirely too open.
The buildings are large and set back a good distance away from the pathway. They are built to look like barns, but one is open air. There are no doors, only a wide space to walk through, and the walls are tall. Inside, there are dozens of sleeping mats, sleeping bags, hammocks, a few spaces in the loft storage, and initiates everywhere. They spill out in small groups, and a few linger, stretching and blinking as the morning sun shines over them.
The other two have doors. They look more like normal barns, built more for the vast space than anything, and I see Tris wander out of one. She folds her arms in, looking around to make sure no one is watching her, then vanishes around the back.
"Hey! Did you come by to see how the rest of the initiates are living?" Trevor greets me brightly, looking less tired and more refreshed than I've seen him so far. "There's another two round back. The bathrooms and showers are in one of them. We've got a sauna, too!"
"Which one are you staying in?"
I eye all of it with great disdain. The thought of living in a barn is enough to make me want to scream but living with all these initiates would have done me in for sure. My sanity would have long snapped after the first few hours, and it appears they have absolutely no privacy.
I flash back to sleeping in bed beside Everly, in a quiet house away from everyone.
"Third one. We have rooms to sleep in. Four per room. We have bunkbeds, a few couches, and people crash wherever. I've never seen anything like this place." Trevor rocks back on his heels, and I nod.
"Me either."
We both watch as more initiates pour out, all absolutely thrilled to get started.
I eye Howard carefully, looking for signs he's being poisoned.
He doesn't appear to be, yet, but it's highly probable. He's friendly and enthusiastic, but he looks like he could keel over at any moment.
I wonder if Carole has some sort of life insurance policy on him. Something saying if he dies, she gets everything. Blythe had nearly strangled Daniel upon discovering theirs. They weren't common, nor were they required in Erudite. But Daniel had taken one out in the event something happened to either of them. His friends in Candor encouraged it; they said if he and Blythe were both to die, I'd be left with no one. The idea was fine with me, but he insisted upon having a legal document declaring everything went to me.
In a moment of extreme suspicion, Blythe lost her mind, and I spent the next few years waiting for her to kill him in his sleep, just to see if he'd made the changes she asked for or not.
"Okay, so today, we're diving further into the ways of agriculture and some of the machinery involved. You got to see how we grow and utilize the greenhouses and how the crops are grown in the field, but now you're going to see the steps to processing our food. Amity serves each faction by dropping off produce. We have a delivery schedule, delivery drivers, and specific routes. One job here is to make sure these deliveries run on time."
"Does each faction order their own food?" I stare at him, his hair a mess and his shirt slouchy and loose, and his face lights up.
"Excellent question. The answer is yes. Each faction can order whatever they want, so long as we have it. It depends on the season, our available livestock, and the number of farmers raising livestock with the intent of them being used to feed families. There is a great divide amongst those who believe the animals should be slaughtered and those who don't; we perform this as gently as possible, and we try to avoid having any overages."
"How many people here eat meat?" Trent crosses his arms, and he looks nervous. "Because it seems like a lot do. Which is fine, but…I really liked the cow I met the other day."
Howard nods, looking even more pleased. "I would say it's split down the middle. Some refuse, because they view the animals as family, others focus on the nutritional benefits. But, enough about that for now. We're going to see some of the equipment. Our real goal is watching the delivery process in action. Eric and Ryan, you guys will be working with me. Trevor, Trent, and Andy, you guys will be with Landon. Some of you will be with Daryl. Some with Bob and Jed. You'll watch how the orders are sorted, packaged, and placed in the trucks. Hopefully, we'll have time to see how the routes are distributed."
"Does anyone ever get annoyed that Abnegation gives away their food?" Trevor asks, and he points at the large field behind us. "All this work and they just…give it away to whoever wants it?"
Howard shrugs. "It's their choice. We give them what they ask, within reason. We don't monitor what everyone does with it."
"How do they order?" I glance around, and my mind is whirling.
Five factions.
Thousands of members.
An impossible to track but presumably numerous factionless population.
Orders placed, crops and meat divided, delivered, and then it all starts over.
The stress placed on Amity has to feel immense.
"Every week, they send us their requests by email. They go to Daryl. We fill them with whatever we can. We don't always have enough or everything they want. In order for it to be fair, we give equal amounts, unless they're willing to pay more for priority ordering," Howard looks at me, and I nod. "Before you ask, I'll just tell you. Priority ordering is paid for with their points. Abnegation would never pay for extra or specific food, so they get whatever we have. Candor and Erudite prefer a higher grade of everything. Dauntless needs to feed the masses, so they go with what's the least expensive and can stretch the farthest. Amity gets whatever we want since we grow it all."
"Makes sense," Trevor shrugs, waiting for Howard to go on. "You said we're gonna help with the deliveries today?"
"You are! Hopefully!" Howard grins, like this is the most amazing gift ever, and he waves for us to follow him. "We're starting at what we call The Plant. Follow me."
"The Plant," Trent repeats, and he looks mildly interested. "Did you have any idea any of this shit existed? I just ate my dinner. I never thought about where it came from."
I shake my head no, and we both follow along while Howard points out a few landmarks, and waves to Carole, wandering by with a trail of chickens behind her.
She smiles, darkly, and I give Howard a few more months to live.
"So, you press down with your right foot. Make sure it's on the brake, then check your surroundings. Once you take your foot off the brake, the truck moves."
The guy sitting beside me is the afore mentioned Daryl. He's tall, dark, and his hair is as wild as the animals in the woods. I liked him immediately; he had this dry, sarcastic sense of humor and a general sense of awareness about where he is.
With minimal patience, he showed us some farming equipment and warned us not to touch it. There were tractors, pallets, a tomato harvester he swore had a mind of its own, plows, hoes, a feed grinder, and a bale lifter. He loudly, and repeatedly reminded us you need to be trained to use any of it. There is some certification involved, and he brightly told us it isn't hard to learn, but it is somewhat dangerous. Once we agreed, he sent us on a quick break –lemonade and crackers passed out by May—then split us into groups. He'd chosen me and beckoned for me to follow him.
"You're going to turn carefully. We'll back it up, turning the steering to the right, then swing around. You can go slow. We don't want the stuff falling off the back. Though I'm pretty sure it's empty boxes."
After touring The Plant, a processing facility used to box up the produce, Howard brought us back toward the Dome and behind the small buildings in the rear. They were numerous, branching out from the kitchens, and filled with members working to box up the food being sent out. We viewed the produce orders –Erudite asking for far more than anyone –and saw how everything was grouped, labeled, and loaded into a truck.
Their work trucks are older, but sturdy. There are ten drivers who rotate shifts, and Howard said they really need two more.
Once the first wave went out, a few men remained, and Trent and I were picked to stick around. The rest of the class went back to help clean up. We hung back for a minute, then Daryl decided it was time for me to learn how to drive. Trent went with Landon.
"Easy. Don't take out Howard over there," Daryl laughs, and he laughs louder when Howard watches with a worried expression. "I know the dude's boring, but Baskin will do it for you. Saw her at the general store. Purchasing lots of suspicious shit. Told Judd he shouldn't keep so much cooking oil in stock."
"You're not from here, are you?" I glance back, and the truck moves easily. The first few presses of the gas are jerky, but it takes me no time at all to figure it out.
"Fuck no. Abnegation. Before you even ask, do you really think I wanted to spend my life eating plain bread? Transferred out of there as fast as I could. My momma cried for my entire initiation, then dipped out and lives here now." Daryl points toward the fence, and he grins. "Drive over there. You're doing fine. Better than Rick. He ran over the whole fucking fence last week."
"Your mom moved here?" I change gears; I put the truck in drive, and it clicks. It's rickety, but strong. "How far?"
"Down the road. We'll take a little drive. There are no other trucks out right now, so your odds of killing someone are low. Unlike Carole. And yes, my momma moved here. Turns out, she doesn't like that Abnegation shit, either. She just…left. In the middle of the night. I had her move in with me until I got married. She got married, too. She's much happier here, and now, I've got a stepdad who makes me dinner on the weekends. It's real nice."
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, his t-shirt red and his pants black, and he relaxes. He only watches to make sure I'm driving the direction he wants, and when he's confident I am, he closes his eyes.
"I heard your momma's not so nice, Erudite. Someone said, and I put this delicately, she's the worst person they've ever met. Real bitchy and uptight. I heard you were supposed to pick elsewhere."
"They're not wrong."
We lapse into silence while he lets me figure out the driving. Amity is very hands on; almost every lesson involves something physical, under the watchful eye of whoever is leading it. Except for now. Daryl seems ready for a nap. His eyes stay closed and he reclines back, yawning.
"You're gonna take a left when you get to the end. Look both ways, then pull out onto the road. We'll drive around for a minute. I'll show you one of the normal routes." Daryl still doesn't open his eyes. He keeps them closed, and he slowly cracks one, just to make sure everything is okay. "It's clear. You can go."
I follow his instructions, turning carefully. It takes a second to figure out how fast to press on the gas, and there's a learning curve to steering. I'm happy when we're on the road, and slowly, Amity fades behind us.
"Keep going. You can drive for about twenty minutes. Just follow the road around. I'll point out the landmarks you should look for."
"Alright."
I agree readily. This is far better than hanging out with Howard, and while there's a flicker of stress at the thought of veering off the road, I do just fine. Fine enough that Daryl continues resting his eyes, and I follow the bank as the trees become sparse. There's a unique feeling of freedom in driving, and knowing if I need to, I could go anywhere.
"What does this do?"
I push a button on the dashboard, and I'm rewarded with ear piercing static. I turn the dial to get rid of it, and my options are limited: someone rambling on and on, in a low whisper, muttering about the great factionless conspiracy or some strange music. Both are odd, and unpleasant, and Daryl wakes up enough to jab the next button. There are more sounds of someone talking, this time, evenly giving orders to return at once.
"It's a radio. Hank swears people used to listen to music on them. I think that's bullshit. Right now, we're picking up the Dauntless radio signals. The closer we get to Dauntless, the stronger it gets. They don't conceal their communication network very well."
He turns the dial further, and the lunatic ramblings of someone fill the truck. I listen for a solid minute, then I turn the dial back.
"Who the fuck was that?" I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, steering to the right slightly. The trucks slows as we ascend the hill, and I press down on the gas to speed up. "The guy talking?"
"Fox. He broadcasts out of his house in Amity. He's trying to reach the aliens."
"Are you joking?" I slow when we reach a winding part of the road, and it's an automatic reflex I didn't know I had. "Aliens?"
"I wish I were joking. Dude's a recluse. Stays in his house all day, every day. I drop off dinner for him. He says he's always broadcasting, just to see if anyone is listening. Someone probably is. You can buy a radio at the market. The other guy is some lunatic in Candor. He runs his own radio station. Same logic. He thinks someone appreciates it." Daryl sits up, opening his eyes and turning down the low singing. "Alright, Einstein look to the left. We're about to pass it, but there, in all its violent and edgy glory, is Dauntless. If you were dropping off their produce, you would stop at the gates and give them your name. They'll wave you on through with a badge for the truck. No funny business. They watch everything."
I blink in confusion over how long we've been driving. I'd memorized the directions to leave Amity, but I must have zoned out and not realized how far we'd gone.
I slow the truck slightly, so I have time to look in the direction Daryl is pointing.
There it is.
From the road, it doesn't appear intimidating. The faction is guarded by large gates. There's a security check point, where soldiers are milling around out front and a road leading to the main compound. There's not much to see from the outside, or from this distance. Everything is dark, and further out it vanishes into the ancient, rotting buildings of the old city. They loom above everything, broken and depleted, like a bleak beacon.
"You come here often?" I ask, and I jerk the wheel to avoid the truck barreling right at us. "Shit!"
"You're good. They won't hit you. They've only got so many trucks and so many guys who can fix them." Daryl barely blinks, but he's right.
The truck, a heavily armored vehicle with the Dauntless logo on the side, careens past us. I catch sight of the men driving –not much older than me, both in dark black uniforms –and they adjust at the last minute. They slow down, and their truck turns to head into the faction. We round the corner as they stop at the gates.
Their brake lights come on, and Daryl rolls his eyes as they are immediately waved through.
"Nice. I'm going back to sleep. You can turn around up ahead, and we'll go back to Amity. If you keep going, we'd eventually reach Erudite, then Candor. I've decided you and I will meet every Wednesday for the next few weeks. Once I'm confident you won't run anyone over, we'll get you certified."
"Am I assigned to work as a delivery man?" I take my eyes off the road for just a second, still thinking about the men driving the Dauntless truck, and Daryl grins.
He leans back, completely done with our lesson.
"Nah. I just wanted to get out of Amity for a bit, and I thought you might want to know how to drive. It might come in handy someday."
His words sound ominous, and they stick in my head during the drive back.
Dinner gets pushed back when both Hank and Eden are there when I get home, and so is Zander.
He hovers in the background, nosily peeking in the kitchen cabinets, and occasionally glancing at me, waiting to get caught. I narrow my eyes at him when he steps onto the bottom shelf, and he only stops what he's doing because Eden notices her precious child is about to climb up the pantry.
"Can you watch him for an hour? Just an hour. He's already had dinner. We need Everly to come with us and talk with Willow," Eden gently pulls him down, then smooths his hair back. He immediately shakes his head, and wiggles away from her. "We would really appreciate it. He can hang out while you…uh, maybe you guys can go outside for a little bit?"
I glance at Everly, busy chewing on her lip while she watches Zander with great apprehension, and when I look up, I realize both Hank and Eden are looking in my direction. I'm only half listening; I thought they were talking to Everly, but it dawns on me they plan on leaving him here.
With me.
Alone.
"Wait, you want me to watch him?" I stare back, both horrified and confused. "I don't even know him. I've never watched any kid before. There's gotta be someone you trust more. Maybe…May or…Carole…or a wild boar."
None of them even acknowledge my hesitation. Eden bends down and instructs Zander to behave, and in the least stern voice ever, reminds him this isn't his house and he has to listen. Hank pats me on the arm, and his apology is quiet.
"We know it's last minute. Willow wanted to tell us something, but only us and Everly. The other kids are at home playing, but Zander can't be left alone." Hank glances down at him, and Zander makes a face. He's not an awful looking kid; he reminds me of Everly, with longish, dark hair and big eyes, but it's obvious as the baby of the family, he could murder them one by one and they'd still think he was cute. "He'll behave, won't you Zander? You'll be good for Eric?"
"No."
"No?" I cock an eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head.
"At least he's honest," Everly shrugs, and she looks like she's trying not to laugh. "I'll be back as soon as Willow tells us…whatever it is she wants to tell us."
"Why can't Zander be there again?" I eye the little monster warily, and we all know why.
He takes off running, sprinting past me up the stairs, and cackling to himself. I throw Everly one dark look, a steely glare meant to make her stay here, but she pretends she's oblivious. She throws back a winning grin, then leaves with her mom and dad. Zander tests out my name, yelling it from upstairs, a second later, and I realize I have no choice but to make sure he's not destroying the bedroom.
I stomp up the stairs, cursing his name with everything in me, and I stop at the top. I press on my temples, groaning at the thought of being reduced to a babysitter, and my brain reminds me I picked Amity. I chose to come here, and this is my punishment.
I feel this in my bones when I find Zander sitting on the bed, holding up my phone in total triumph.
"Again."
"No."
"Again."
"No."
"ERIC, AGAIN!"
I glare at Zander in a way no one has probably glared at him before, and he glares right back. Then he turns pouty, sticking out his lip at me, and pointing at the phone.
"Call Harrison." His demand is loud, and he moves closer.
It appears no one in Everly's family has any concept of personal space. Zander, small and impatient, sits on my lap before I can stop him. He ignores the look on my face and my refusal to give in to his orders, and instead gestures at the phone.
I'd let him play with it for a few minutes.
It bought me scant time; exactly three minutes after he unlocked it, he swiped through everything, and looked up in disgust when there was nothing that held his attention. He was pacified when I tried to call Rylan, but the phone went to voicemail, and we were both disappointed.
Turns out, Zander knows what a phone is, and how to use it.
"He has one," Zander insists, and his voice rises up to an ear-piercing level. "You have to call!"
"No. I don't have his number." I try logic on the child, currently sitting on me, and chewing something in his mouth. I have half a mind to demand he spit it out, but then I realize I don't really care. "You can go downstairs and read a book."
He stares up at me like I'm a moron.
I stare back at him.
His eyes are the same color as Everly's. He looks more like her than her other siblings, but I'm too tired to make any leap of judgement right now.
"No books!"
Zander's yell loses out to the phone ringing. We both stare at it, and I quickly hit accept as Rylan's name appears. It goes straight to video; Zander and I are rewarded with Rylan and Jason, sitting somewhere in Dauntless. Judging by the echo, they are high up, and behind them is a rushing waterfall.
The darkness behind them is soothing; I have a sudden lust for the solace it must offer, along with the lack of children who probably live there.
"Eric!"
"Hey!"
Rylan and Jason both tilt their heads when their gazes leave me and move to Zander, and their expressions are identical. They glance at each other, and their smirks are immediate.
"Did you have a child already? Is that you and Everly's son? Does life in Amity move faster than anywhere else?"
"You have a kid! You didn't tell us! Congratulations! Did you have him the old-fashioned way or did you steal him? He kind of looks like you!"
"No!" I bark, and I stare at both of them with an unimpressed scowl. "Hilarious, really. He's Everly's little brother. They had to go…talk to her other brother's fiancée so I got stuck watching him."
"How old is he?" Rylan shifts, and we get a view of the water behind him. It's intense. The waterfall spills everywhere, giving them the cover of the loud roar as the water tumbles down. "He looks little. Yo! Dude! What's your name? Is it Frank? I bet it's Frank."
I roll my eyes, but Zander sits up straighter.
"Zander! I'm Zander!" He's enthused by not only them, but by his reflection in the screen. He sits transfixed, then leans back. "Dauntless. Zander can go to Dauntless."
"How does he know where we are? Did you tell him?" Jason asks, and he waves. "He's cute. He looks like Everly. How's that going by the way? Everyone here is really impressed. So far, we're all still single and no one has even proposed. Or given us a child."
"She's…"
"No Everly!" Zander shakes his head. "Only Zander."
"Look, he already takes after you. There can be only one," Rylan laughs. "But seriously man, how are you? Are you okay? Everything good in Amity? Are you having fun?"
"It's alright," I shrug around Zander, and I'm reminded of Everly until he makes a face in the camera, sticking his tongue out and rolling his eyes back. Jason and Rylan snicker at him, and it only encourages Zander. "There's a lot to it. I learned to drive, so there's that."
"Really?" Rylan stops laughing long enough to look jealous. "No way. You can't drive the trucks in Dauntless until you've been here for two years. We asked. We thought maybe Frank would want to drive one but he said no."
"I thought his name is Four," I look around Zander, and Zander mouths the word four. "What happened to that?"
"We still call him Frank. But everyone else calls him Four. It started after the fear landscapes, which are bullshit. They keep saying it's to push us to the breaking point mentally, but I'm having a hard time. In one of mine, I saw you, turning into a giant swamp creature. I think Everly was there, too. I started laughing and Amar was not impressed."
"You like him?" I try to imagine having one trainer instead of dozens. "What's he like? Are you allowed to laugh?"
"No, we are not." Rylan turns to yell something to someone, and Jason looks at me.
He shrugs, and I don't know if he's impressed or unimpressed. "He's fine. He grew up here. Amar definitely thinks he's cooler than he is, but he did teach us to throw knives. He likes Four. They seem to really get along which is odd. We were told you really don't want to stand out here and he seems determined to make sure Four passes initiation."
"Why?" I try to move Zander out of the way, but he doesn't budge. He keeps looking at Rylan, waiting to be noticed by him.
Eventually, Rylan looks back, and he scrunches up his face.
"Yeah, they said the less you stand out the better. Just get through initiation and keep your head down."
"How is it possible for you to not stand out?" I've known Rylan since he was five, and there was no way he was being quiet. "How have you not been murdered yet for talking back?"
"It's a struggle for everyone involved," Rylan admits slickly, ignoring Jason's full on burst of laughter. "But I don't want anyone to know how powerful I am. Or maybe I should. Since…you know."
"Has she been back?" I avoid saying Jeanine's name, because I have a feeling Zander repeats anything he overhears. Zander turns around, then slips off my lap to kneel beside me. He stands up, wobbling for a split second, then he lunges for my hair. "I keep waiting for her to show up here. She hasn't, not yet at least. Zander, sit down!"
"I haven't seen her this week, so that's good. But my scores are staying high despite not taking this all that seriously. Jason's dropped."
"Only by two points. Some girl got one more knife throw in before we had to stop. I'll get her this week." Jason is optimistic, until he glances to the side of me, then at Zander, then back up at me. "Things are good with you? You sure? You look a little down."
I find myself surprised.
I've always hidden my emotions well, so well, it felt like I had none left. I was used to being alone, had little patience for others, and was aware the crux of my family's reputation hinged on us looking good. I fought down every hopeful inkling of things being different, knowing there was no point. Even if I did find someone I liked or felt anything for, the only future I knew was two strangers living together, refusing to admit they were unhappy.
Not even Jeanine could fix Daniel and Blythe.
Nor did they deserve it. They were both smart enough to figure out they'd be happier apart, but it would ruin their reputation.
Zander's fingers touch the longer part of my hair, yanking and pulling, and I try to knock him away.
"Zander…"
"I'm being nice," he answers, and he plunks himself back down beside me. "Let me see Dauntless. Eric! Dauntless!"
I side eye him hard, and I hope he does pick Dauntless. He clearly doesn't take orders, and I'm sure he'll do very well with Amar telling him to be quiet.
"Hey, uh, Eric…" Jason starts, and the weirdness of him being my friend is fleeting. "He uh…you might wanna go wash your hair."
"What?" I hiss, trying to look in the camera. I see nothing but my furious glare and Zander trying to get the phone from me. "What did he do?"
"Z-Man, what are you doing to our buddy Eric?" Rylan's face takes up most of the screen, and his grin is pleased. "Hey, call us tomorrow. We have to get back tonight, but we were thinking we'll be free around eight-ish. Even Four asked if we were calling again."
"You like him?" I raise an eyebrow in disbelief, not sure I'm hearing him correctly. "Who are you?"
"No, I don't like him. But he's entertaining and he's very worried about what you're doing. I haven't heard him shut up about Divergents all week. He keeps working it into every conversation like it's his job. He's convinced you're hunting them even though you live amongst the farm animals now."
"Maybe he's divergent," I scowl when Zander repeats divergent –incorrectly—and I tell Rylan and Jason I'll call them tomorrow. "Eight pm?"
"We'll be here. We're gonna really talk. Because something's up with you, and I'm gonna get to the bottom of it. So, goodnight for now, and good luck getting the gum out of your hair." Rylan salutes me, and I stare at him in horror.
"What?"
The phone disconnects, and I look back at Zander, staring at me with one innocent, angelic expression.
"Don't be mad, Eric."
I lunge for him, and he gets away far faster than I imagine a small child would be able to run.
"Hey, Eric…hey, do you want him to go home?"
I open my eyes to darkness broken by a sliver of light from the bathroom. I blink a few times, trying to drag the sleep from my eyes, but it's nearly impossible.
"Sorry, it's super late. Willow talked forever. My dad's here to get Zander. Unless you want him to spend the night."
My brain wakes up slowly, Everly is right by me. She's hovering over me, balancing on the free space by the side of the bed while reaching for her brother. The drowsiness is hard to shake, and it takes me a minute too long to realize Zander is asleep beside me.
"What time is it?" I mutter, and I sit up, smacking my head right into Everly's. "Fuck."
"Sorry," she laughs quietly, rubbing her forehead for a second only to try and grab Zander once more. "He's right by you. I can't reach him from the other side. Oh, and it's two in the morning."
"What happened to one hour?" I scowl, and she moves over me. She manages to get closer, and I see her struggling not to answer me. "You promised one hour."
"My mom promised one hour. They're really sorry. All for Willow to tell us –" She slips when she finally has Zander in her arms, and the graceful act of balancing on the bed while picking him up comes crashing down. She's never been particularly great at walking or maintaining any sort of equilibrium, so this shouldn't be a surprise.
It is a surprise when she hits my chest, and her ow is lost in mine.
"Sorry. Just give me a second. He's heavier than I remember."
The feeling of her is nice, but the feeling of her trying to pick up Zander is not. She maims every internal organ in my chest and stomach by trying to drag him over me, and she's too short to put her foot down to balance herself. It's a comedy of errors as she falls off the bed, and I swing wildly, attempting to catch her.
We both come up short.
She and Zander hit the ground, yet shockingly –he doesn't wake up.
He stays fast asleep, and she somehow stands up with him. "Did he change his clothes?"
"It's a long story. I had to give him a shower," I rub my eyes, and I hear Everly's father call her name as quietly as he can. "Your whole family owes me. They owe me so much, they'll never ever be able to repay me."
"Did he get in the lake?" Everly asks, and she struggles not to laugh again. "I'm so sorry. I knew he would try to get out. He hates being stuck anywhere for long periods of time."
I raise an eyebrow at her and she struggles to keep a straight face.
"Oh, he didn't just get in the lake. He put gum in my hair. Then he ran out of here when he realized I was mad. He ran to Jerry's house. Got all the farm animals riled up. Knocked over the feed Jerry just put together. Woke up May from her nap, tried to get inside her house. We ended at the lake, with him running right in and me grabbing him before it got too deep. May helped wrangle him out. You're lucky she had clothes for him."
Everly stares, and her lips finally part. "I am so sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"Then, he knocked me over. Do you know I've never once wanted to swallow a mouthful of lake water? Ever?"
My dry and exhausted words are met with silence. Everly takes a cautious step toward the door, and she does her best not to look at me. Her shoulders shake as she fails not to laugh, and I find none of this as hilarious as she does.
She smiles brightly and takes another step like I can't see her escaping. "I'm going to give him to my dad. On the plus side, you're now immune to whatever illnesses Amity has to offer."
I glare at her, but in the dark, it's lost. I watch her leave, slipping out the bedroom door and down the stairs, and she misses my look of contempt.
My night had been absolutely insane. There is no other word for it. The fact that a family from Amity trusted me to watch their child because I live with his sister, then failed to mention he was the spawn of Satan was beyond me. So was the fact that I had watched him, we'd talked to Rylan and Jason, he'd stuck gum in my hair, then led me on a wild chase to catch him. The highlight was giving him a bath. He didn't trust me at all –rightfully so –and instead he took a shower. Getting a small child to take a shower was nearly impossible, and I wound up reaching in to wash his hair while he laughed and ducked away from me.
The only saving grace was May. He was either afraid of her or knew she'd kill him, so he listened. She got him dressed while I took a shower. My own was lightning fast; I was unwilling to leave him alone, even with May, for more than two seconds, but I did manage to get the gum out.
I close my eyes with a groan, thinking of how I'd put him on the bed so I could try and text Rylan, and he crashed. The next thing I knew, Everly was crawling over me, trying to pick him up to send him home.
I open my eyes now, as she yanks the covers up, and I blearily look in her direction.
"They wanted me to tell you thank you. They said…they'll make it up to you. Promise." She yawns, and she turns to face me. She looks ready to crash, and she doesn't even bother pretending she's going to sleep on her own side of the bed.
I fall right back asleep, completely unaware of how close she really is.
The dark storm of my own thoughts lingers for days.
Despite having a quiet home to go back to, and a few minor conversations with Rylan –each one punctuated with his reassurance of how hard Dauntless is and how he's going to get through it if it kills him, I wallowed in my own self-doubt.
It was a rare state for me.
I loathed the feeling, the heavy wave of uncertainty even though I did fit in. I loathed not having the upper hand, I loathed having no one to back me up, and I loathed everything, right up until May smacked me in the head.
Literally.
"Knock it off."
"What the fuck!" I swat her away, summoning up a dark sneer as she catches me ditching Howard's class for a moment of staring at a donkey. I wasn't really looking at the animal; I was staring past it, wondering what the factionless were doing. I felt a strange urge to storm right through the trees and demand answers.
I just didn't know what questions I needed to be asking.
"I heard you're building an army. If this is true, you're going to need my help," she answers evenly, not at all quiet. "Have you shot a gun before? Stabbed anyone? Planned an attack? Can you load a rifle?"
I turn to look at her, and my stunned expression makes her smile.
"I didn't think so. There are plenty of former Dauntless who live here. We'll get you some training. Sooner rather than later if we can. I expect by the time you finish initiation, your aunt will be here with her own army." May gestures at the woods, and the train whistle slices through the air. "Don't look so stunned. I know who you are and I know what your aunt does. Harrison keeps an eye on her, too."
"You know him?" I blink. "I keep hearing about him. I heard he's –"
"Everly's father. You'll come to realize Harrison is like a mythical creature in Amity. You'll hear a lot about him, but you won't see him. He owns more property than anyone else and he doesn't even live here. He's trying though. Anyway, he's our contact point. He was the one who suggested you start putting something together." She points in the distance, and I squint to see what she's looking at. "Over there. The factionless on the east side with Jeanine. They stay in those woods. The others are deeper into the woods by the fields. They work here and are willing to fight if we need them."
"The factionless side with Jeanine? Why? She hates them," I stare in total confusion, but May quickly clarifies. Her answer makes me pause, and the need for an Amity army makes total sense.
Before, I found it an amusing suggestion. The most peaceful faction of all, one rich in serums to force happiness down your throat and plenty of members willing to go along with it, was plotting something. It was like they knew their value was more than just harmony. They knew the other factions wouldn't exist without them, and they'd come to the startling conclusion they needed to protect themselves.
I just don't know from what.
"Well, maybe not side with her exactly. More like, she's already tested someone they know, and they know better than to speak up against her. She tested a family member, and once a few found out, they started trying to get the information out. It didn't take long for her to deal with them. She ruined their lives, and she'll ruin yours, too."
I open my mouth to ask her how she even knows this, but she has no reason to lie to me.
"When she comes for you, you'll need to be ready."
"Come on. It'll be fun."
"No." I shake my head at Everly, ignoring her pleading stare. She stands before me, as I sit slumped on the couch aimlessly flipping through a book without reading it, and she refuses to give up.
"You've been in a terrible mood. Howard said you didn't even show up this morning," Everly pauses, and her eyes hold more concern than I deserve. "I told him you weren't feeling good. What's going on? Even your friends haven't cheered you up."
I slam the book shut, dragging my gaze from the mess of words to her. She'd been there for a solid minute. Blinking at me, waiting for me to look at her. I felt her stare on me, patient and unyielding, and I finally gave in and asked what she wanted.
Unfortunately, what she wanted, was to drag me back to the lake.
"I'm thinking about something. May told me some of the factionless support Jeanine. And Amity needs an army. Apparently, I'm the one to lead it." I meet her eyes, grey locking on green, and she nods. "Am I the only one who wasn't aware Amity, the least militant faction of all, thinks it's fine to have an army?"
She slinks toward me.
She appears taller, though barefoot and wearing a sundress, and her hair is loose from its bun.
"Well…most people who live here know. Not everyone wants to be involved." She pauses when I narrow my eyes as she stops in front of me. She then steps closer, between my legs, and glances down. "Johanna had a meeting and we voted. It was pretty split, maybe sixty-forty. The ones who don't want to participate don't have to."
"Is there an army?" I jut out my chin at her, and she smiles. Her fingers touch my knee, and my stare flicks down to them. "Is your father in charge of it?"
"Hank abhors violence. He only likes plants," she replies, and I swear she smiles when I look up. Her head tilts, and her shrug is indifferent. "Harrison said we needed one years ago. It takes a long time to convince the members of Amity that change is good."
"What are you doing?" I look up to her smile, a little too sweet and a little smug, and I already know where this is going. "What do you want? The last thing I want to do is go back to the lake. Is this a trick? Is Zander there?"
"No!" Her eyes widen like she hadn't thought of this, but I'd learned anything is possible here. "Just you and me. I thought maybe we could talk."
"About what?"
I give her a huge amount of credit; my tone would send anyone running. I'm tired, not at all in the mood to drink lake water again, or step foot near the shore, and it appeared everyone in Amity knew everything. Sacrificing my scant privacy to hear her tell me there really are aliens living here, or worse, Judd himself is one, is not my idea of fun.
"Just…trust me."
Her skirt brushes my knee, and I meet her stare.
Twenty minutes later, I find myself regretting the decision entirely.
"Just a little farther. You can do it."
Her bare skin mocks me. The tie of the swimsuit top is knotted behind her neck, and the faint pink fabric is now dark. Her hair is pulled up, messy and spilling everywhere, and the slender line of her neck and shoulders are revealed.
I'd spent a few weeks with her now, and I'd kept what distance I could. The smallness of her wasn't an issue; Everly filled the moments of extreme loneliness and gave me a sense of stability. Even though Amity was never her highest choice, she'd been doing her best to help acclimate me as well. I wasn't her responsibility, nor did anyone ask her to look out for me or even imply I needed her to, but she took the challenge willingly. I'd spent my weeks pretending she was nothing more than poufy fabric and long hair.
A girl from Amity who wasn't leaving Amity.
Until now.
Now, I am realizing who I'd been living with all this time.
"Can you even reach right there?" I call out with a smirk, and she turns to roll her eyes. "How deep is this lake?"
"According to Zander, six thousand feet. According to everyone else, we don't know. No one has ever measured it. Landon and his friends can swim the whole thing. Most stay pretty close to the shore." Everly answers, and her swimming is graceful. There's nothing she can trip over in the water, and I take a second to admire how easy this is for her.
Swimming isn't entirely challenging. I know how to swim, but the lake is far different than a carefully chlorinated pool. There is all sorts of stuff in it; slippery rocks, branches floating in the water, and with my luck –the Loch Ness monster. I catch up to her quickly, and as much as it goes against every bone in my body to admit it, the water is nice.
The sun is still in the sky, lingering above the trees and teasing with its slow descent. The air is hot, cracking beneath the last few warm breezes, and sparking as something buzzes past. The sounds of the lake drown out everything, including the small group of members a good distance away.
There are two main areas: a large section where families gather and small children can wade in up to their knees, and a less popular section where the ground drops off quickly and the water is dark.
Everly led me to this side. She said hello to a few on our walk over. Not a single person batted an eye, and the sense of belonging was painfully vibrant. After years of being left alone, it was jarring to be so readily accepted.
We walked until we reached the deeper part, and Everly set down the few things we'd brought. Towels, a larger blanket to put the stuff on, and a basket with drinks and snacks. I was immediately suspicious we'd be out here forever, but I'm not thinking about that now.
She'd stripped off the sundress, tossed it on the blanket, and cheekily told me she'd race me.
I stood there, stupidly, watching her run right in. There was no hesitation, no fear of what lurked beneath the surface, and no apprehension as the water deepened. I watched until her back disappeared, then I threw off my own shirt and pants and followed her.
Much like jumping off the cliff, the shock of the water was instant. It lapped at my skin, bit at my legs, and swallowed me whole once I realized it was faster for me to swim than wade in her direction. I caught up with Everly in mere seconds, and to my surprise, I can reach.
She can't.
"So what did you want to ask me?" I stop beside her, and she smiles. She leans back, letting the water rush over her shoulders, then she shakes her hair. "When does Zander get here?"
"He's a really good swimmer," she answers absentmindedly, and one hand finds my arm.
Her moment of treading water comes to a halt. She pulls herself over to me, and her feet hit my knees.
"I want to join your army."
"Are you serious?" I stare at her, ready to be furious that she'd brought me out here only to ask me a stupid question over an army that was only going to exist in the minds of the members of Amity. "You really brought me out here –"
"I can fight," she offers, and she puts her other hand on me. I turn with the water, pushed on by the lazy pull of the lake, and she is right there. One of her arms slides around my neck, and she anchors herself to me since she can't reach.
I take a step back, into deeper water.
"Forrest showed me some things," she pauses, and her face is inches from mine.
Up close, she is startling. Her eyes are a deep green and her skin is pale against her dark hair. Her eyelashes are long, wet and blinking as she looks at me, and my arm snakes around her waist. I pull her closer, giving in to the million thoughts running through my head, but mostly under the guise of not wanting her to slip.
She won't.
She grew up here. My guess is she spent every summer in this lake, and she could probably swim it right along with Landon.
"I don't know anything about throwing knives. Harrison said they have to learn how to throw knives at targets," her stare moves up, and she uses one hand to move my hair back. It's sticking to my cheek, damp from my swim out here, and her fingers stay there. "But we could learn. I bet Forrest has some he's not using."
"He just happens to have a collection of knives he's not using?" I raise an eyebrow at her, and the world slows down.
It should be impossible here, but in every way, Amity moves faster than all the others. Back in Erudite, I'd be ten books deep, preparing to publish multiple papers to prove my intelligence. Had I chosen Dauntless, I'd be bruised and exhausted, scrappily fighting my way with Jason and Rylan.
But here, with Everly, time seems to stop.
It's like she's not real, but she is. Her body presses against mine, a warm contrast to the cold water. The curves of her are soft, and my hand presses up her back, feeling every inhale and exhale.
"He likes to go hunting. I'm sure he'll invite you soon," her offer is low, not even hers to give. We both know Forrest will do anything to make sure his sister is happy, including accepting her roommate as part of his family.
Something clicks in my brain; it's warm and lush, rolling around like the waves when I step back farther, away from the world.
"What did you really want to ask me?" I hold her stare, until it falls to her mouth.
A thousand ideas appear, each one more appealing than the last. I try to think through them logically, but they are too numerous. My head bends in toward hers, and her fingers dig into my neck. She pulls herself up, one hand sliding onto my chest, and her legs pushing against mine, and it hits me.
This will not be undone.
Whatever happens in Amity, if Jeanine shows up to kill me for ruining her plans, or decides to force me to Dauntless, I will never, ever be done with Everly. I will never be able to be apart from her. This connection, made in a single instant when she bumped into me, is all consuming. I can feel it in the press of her fingers, the pulse in my veins, and the burning in my stomach.
I will have her.
Landon might have wanted her for his wife, and her parents might want her as a permanent babysitter. I'm sure there are others, boys who'd grown up with her, or a few who'd realized she is pretty, almost too pretty to exist here.
But none of them will have this.
The dizzy rush of lust, mixed with something else, something so strong I can't explain it, connecting me to her.
Rylan would have said it was fate. He would have a dramatic explanation about stars and planets aligning at right that very moment, or a cosmic connection spanning stardust and meteors. He would have waxed on, his face lit up in pure amusement when he realized who it was happening with, and he would have shoved me right at her, encouraging me to give in to the feeling of being happy with another person.
I can hear him, yelling my name, telling me not to be stupid.
Not to waste this opportunity, currently pressed entirely against me. Her legs wrap around my waist, and nothing matters but her. Not the initiation here. Not the cows or the chickens, or Carole's shifty eyes as we walked past her house. Not Zander sticking gum in my hair, or Hank having a greenhouse full of killer plants.
I slide my hand into Everly's hair, digging my fingers in to coax her closer, and I can hear Rylan urging me on. His voice is loud, echoing in my ears, and oh so real, right as I lean in, and my lips touch Everly's.
My intent hadn't been to kiss her, but right now, I can't imagine doing anything else. Her hands move to my face, her lips part, and right when she kisses back harder, lips cold and soft against mine, I hear him yell.
Really loud.
Really real.
I break away from Everly and we both turn. Her eyes widen, and she doesn't let go. She holds on tighter, ignoring the painful interruption, both mental and physical and her soft oh is carried away by the lapping waves around us.
"Looks like we have company."
There, at the shore of the lake, yelling and waving manically, are Jason, Rylan, and Four.