I wake up before the sun now. In Erudite, even in Abnegation, I sometimes slept whole mornings away. My father would reprimand me, saying how indulgent it was to waste time that could be better spent on a million different things. I think of him when I wake every morning at an hour I barely recognize. He would be glad to know that I am awake. I try to find comfort in this, but I don't have much success. The first few days here, I would lie in bed, trying to force myself back to sleep for hours, until it was time to get up for breakfast. I know better now. Something significant has changed, and I am now a person who wakes up before dawn.

So I climb out of bed and dress in the dark, in bright, soft Amity clothes that don't fit me. My shirt is too big, my trousers somehow too loose and too short. The fabric is soft and formless, not like the tailored clothes I wore in Erudite. I surprise myself with my vanity. There is no reason for me to care about the way these clothes fit me, or how I look in them. I can think of one reason. I push the thought out of my head.

I leave the dorm and walk out into the still morning air. I'm not the only person awake. Around me, in the pre-dawn darkness, people are preparing for the day, tending livestock or heading out to the orchards. The lights are on in the kitchen, where breakfast is already being served. Despite all this movement, there is almost no noise. Thanks to the quiet, I can hear someone walking up behind me. I don't turn around, but I know it isn't my sister. The footsteps are heavier, a man's slow gait. I catch myself hoping that it's Peter, then I push that thought away and stare into the distance, watching the vague shapes of people moving into the fields.

"It's not a bad time to be awake"

My heart sinks, and I turn to look at Four. "It's very calm".

He looks at me, then off into the distance. We stand in silence for a few moments, as the sun starts to rise over the hills.

"I've never been good at sleeping in. Marcus didn't allow it."

"My father used to reprimand me for sleeping in as well, but it never stopped me."

Four looks at me, brow furrowed. "There's a big difference between your father and mine."

"Of course." I look at the ground. "I'm sorry."

"No, I am." he hesitates "You must miss him."

Well this is bizarre. Why is Four talking to me? This is the longest conversation I've had with my sister's boyfriend, and he seems deeply uncomfortable. Then it hits me.

"Did Beatrice ask you to check on me?" Four isn't the kind of person who demonstrates his awkwardness physically. He stares into my eyes, stone-faced. "You should start calling her Tris. It's the name she chose." he looks back out towards the sun, now coming up in earnest. "And yes. She wanted me to see-"

"Why doesn't she talk to me herself?"

He's not used to being interrupted. "I don't think she's ready to talk about it."

"Neither am I."

He nods his head, starts to walk away. After a few steps, he turns back. "You should be careful around Peter."

My stomach tightens. "He's been perfectly nice to me."

Four snorts. That seems unnecessary. "Peter isn't a good person, Caleb. You can do what you want, but for Tris's sake, I'm warning you." He starts to walk away again.

There's a part of me that wants to stop him, argue with him, tell him how kind Peter has been to me. There's a bigger part of me that realizes that I don't know what I'm talking about and that Peter handing me a stick and wiping dirt off of my face does not constitute a friendship, and that I don't know the first thing about him, not really. I know how broad his shoulders are, and the way the muscles of his back knit together, and the shape of the patch of hair on his chest. I wonder how much my knowledge of those things is coloring my feeling that Peter is a kind person, a friend.

Four calls back to me. "Are you coming to breakfast?"

I follow my sister's boyfriend down to the dome, trying to banish the memory of watching Peter in the shower. Four doesn't stop walking, so he's about ten yards ahead of me when Tris comes out of the dorm. She walks to him without even looking at me. I wonder if it's only that she's not ready to talk to me, to talk about our parents, to talk about all that's happened. I think there's something more. I know she was angry at me when she came to see me at Erudite, and maybe there's a part of her that blames me for what my faction did. I know there is a part of me that blames her for what happened to our mother and father.

I follow them into the dome, into the line for food, over to the table. This is my life now. I wake up before dawn, I wear a stranger's clothing and don't speak to my own sister. Instead, I follow dangerous boys into bathrooms and lie awake thinking about them, I have no parents and no faction. I am a complete stranger to myself.

I sit with Four and Beatrice, Tris I remind myself. She wants to be called Tris now. Maybe she feels like a stranger too. I eat quietly and stare at my food. I jump a little when a tray slams down on the table across from me.

I look up into Peter's eyes and he holds my gaze as he sits. "Morning, stiffs 1, 2 and 3." He smiles broadly and digs into his eggs. Four and Tris are making faces at each other. After a moment of silence, Four speaks up. "You're eating with us now, Peter?" Tris is glaring daggers. He looks up at them, eyes wide. "I hope that's okay, number one." He winks at Four. Tris reaches across the table and touches Four's arm. After a moment's hesitation, he turns away from Peter. They look at each other and both rise from the table.

Four pauses before he walks away and looks down at me. "You're alright, Caleb?"

"Sure, number two is fine. Right number two?" Peter smiles broadly at me. I look down at my plate. "I'm fine." I don't look up, but I can feel Four and Peter staring each other down. Finally, Four and Tris move away from the table.

"Are you disappointed?"

I look up at him, and he's staring and smirking. This is the Peter he is in front of Four and Beatrice. I don't like it. "Disappointed?"

"That you aren't stiff number one."

I shake my head and lay my silverware down on the tray. As I stand, Peter speaks again, more quietly. "I so enjoyed seeing you last night, Caleb."

I freeze, unsure. I know I should walk away, but the instincts that have guided me my whole life have eroded quickly and entirely. Abnegation Caleb turns away, eyes to the ground. Erudite Caleb stays silent and recognizes Peter's motives and the danger inherent in engaging with him. But I am neither of these people. I am factionless and strange and new.

I stand my ground. I raise my eyes to Peter's and stare him down. "Me too. We should do it again soon." My heart is pounding. He stops chewing and the smirk disappears from his face. I find the effect I'm having on him strangely satisfying. "Next time you should stick around a little longer." His mouth falls open, and I turn and walk away. I'm fighting nausea and hysterical laughter in equal measure, and my chest feels full of air, ready to burst. I'm a new man.