I don't own Divergent, as much as I'd love to.

Hey, everyone. If you're here because of A Divergent Dauntless, thanks. If not, you should read A Divergent Dauntless. It's still Divergent, but unlike this, it's in Veronica's world. Anyway, I was told that I should explain some stuff from the previous chapter, so I did my best to do so. Please PM or review! And people from A Divergent Dauntless, please tell me if you want me to keep this one going...

Enjoy!

Four puts his hand on my back. "Welcome to Dauntless."

"You aren't pissed?" I ask quietly. "I kind of just beat you up."

He grins. "Not at all. It means that you have to fight anyone that wants in. Unless, of course, I beat you."

I punch him on the arm - not hard enough to be real, but not soft enough to be a joke. "You asshole!" I half-joke, grinning at him.

Four chuckles, and then looks at me seriously. "When you were up there, I saw you glance at the Abnegation bowl. Why?"

"Well," I begin slowly. "When I was applying for scholarships, I came across a blog about this school. It talked about the factions, and there was this test you took. Apparently, I qualified for Abnegation, Dauntless and Erudite. But Erudite was never an option for me - my mom went to this school. She was Dauntless, and despised the Erudite. I guess she passed it on to my dad, because he told me not to choose it this year."

Four's face fills with fear. "Never tell anyone that you qualified for more than faction, okay? It's dangerous here. Promise me, Tris."

"I promise," I find myself saying.

Just then, Peter walks up. I feel a little bad about how mean I was on the bus, but I wanted to prove that I couldn't be pushed around. But Four looks pissed at his appearance. "Welcome to Dauntless, Tris," Peter says. "If you want to hang out with my group, anyone as badass as you is welcome."

I look at Four, and where Marlene, Uriah, Will, Christina and a few others are standing. "Thanks for the offer, Peter, but I have friends."

"What, those losers?" he scoffs.

His comment pisses me off. "They're nice, Peter. You're the loser if you think being cool is more important than having friends you like," I snarl. Peter leaves, glaring at me.

Four sits beside me, looking grateful and impressed. "Thanks, Tris. But, just saying, now Peter has it out for you. Him and his minions, Molly and Drew, pick a few people to terrorize all year. Looks like you're on this year's list."

I shrug. "Oh, well. Bullies are something I expected. I mean, I'm a public school kid transferring into one of the most prestigious and expensive schools in the country. Plus, I can bet you money that Peter, Molly and Drew aren't nearly as bad as some of the kids at Lincoln Park."

Four studies me for a second. "You really are Dauntless," is all he says, shaking his head. He walks away, leaving me alone here. I make my way over to Christina, who hugs me so tightly I can hardly breathe.

"Oh my god!" she squeals. "You made it in! And you beat Four!"

I cough and wriggle my way out of her grasp. "Yeah. No need to suffocate me, Christina."

Uriah laughs and claps me on the back. "Good job, Tris! Almost no one beats Four. Anyway, this is my idiotic and much less handsome older brother, Zeke." He points to a senior that looks a lot like Uriah - Hispanic, brown hair, tall, brown eyes, muscular - and Zeke smacks his head. "And this," Uriah adds, after punching his brother in the stomach. "Is Lynn and Shauna. Shauna's the senior with the dark hair, and Lynn has the shaved head." I wave at them and introduce myself. I get a smile from Zeke and Shauna, but Lynn glares at me. "Zeke and Shauna are dating," Uriah pipes up helpfully. "Finally." He smirks at this one.

I check my phone for the time. We have ten minutes until my first class of today - AP writing. I'm honestly estatic about this class. "What's your next class?" I ask Uriah quietly.

"Trig," he replies. "You?"

"AP writing." I hesitate. "Where's Four? He has AP writing with me."

Uriah shrugs. "Dunno." But he's lying.

"Liar."

"Fine. I can't tell you," he snaps. "Better?"

I shrug. "I don't really care."

"Liar," he mimics.

"Touché," I reply, smiling at him. Uriah grins back, and I'm glad the tension of a second ago is mostly gone. "But seriously, where is AP writing?"

"Which room do you have it in today?"

"Uhh, three twenty one," I reply, checking my schedule.

Uriah takes a notebook out of his bag and draws a quick sketch of the school. "There are five floors in our school. The high school has all of the the third floor, a few rooms on the fifth floor, and two libraries and an auditorium thing on the second floor. The rest of the schoolis divided between the middle and lower schools. The cafeteria is in the basement," he explains as he's drawing. "On the third floor, the rooms are pretty much numbered in order from the right to left. On a map, it looks left to right, but it's really right to left if you're going up the marble staircase. So you'll go to the left once you reach the third floor, and then you'll go the the end of the hall and take another left, and then you'll go up the half-flight of stairs. You should see two doors on the wall you're facing. The one on the left is three twenty one. Got it?"

I nod, visualizing. "Thanks, Uriah. Do I need to bring anything?"

"You were instructed to get a notebook for each class, right?" he asks. At my nod, he continues. "You probably won't need one for about half your classes as long as you have a laptop. Some kids use iPads, but I prefer a laptop. Do you have one?"

"Yeah, a MacBook Pro," I reply. He looks impressed.

"How'd you get it?" Then he shakes his head. "Sorry. And yeah, just bring that and a notebook to every class."

"No, it's okay," I tell him. "Last summer, I worked my ass off at the Apple store. They gave me my salary minus half the price of this computer. It was so worth. And thanks, Uri."

He smirks at me. "Of course you got a laptop that way."

"Shut up, Uri. I have to go," I tell him, smiling despite myself. Then I shake my head and go up two flights of stairs. I follow Uriah's directions, and get to class without much trouble.

The room has whiteboards on two sides, and a smart board on one of them. The wall nearest to the door has shelves and the one opposite that is windows overlooking Chicago. There are tables set up in a rectangle with a hole in the middle. I take a seat in one facing the windows and log onto my laptop, connecting to the internet and pulling up Google Drive.

While I'm logging on to Google Drive, someone sits next to me. I look up and am met by Four's beautiful blue eyes. He smiles at me and pulls out his own laptop. It's a MacBook Pro, like mine.

"Nice computer," he comments. "How'd -"

"Summer job at Apple," I cut him off. "You think my dad would just randomly buy me a MacBook Pro?"

"Mine did," he replies, so quietly I can hardly hear it. I immediately feel bad.

"I'm sorry, Four. I just meant that my family doesn't exactly have the resources to splurge on a new laptop like that," I apologize.

"I get it," he answers. "You know, before my father got his promotion, I lived in Englewood. Now we live in the south of Lincoln Park, even though we could move to an even nicer house."

"I live in the south, too," I grudgingly divulge. "So do you like writing?"

Four turnsaway from his computer to face me. "Sort of. I prefer creative to analytical, that's for sure. But I guess I'm pretty good at them, because I was told by my last year's English teacher that I had to take this class." Surprisingly, he doesn't sound at all stuck-up, just like he's stating a fact. "Do you like it?"

My face brightens. "I love writing. Creatively, that is. I want to be a writer when I get older." Then my shoulders slump again. "But writing isn't a big money-making career. Since I'm good with math and science, a chemical engineer is more realistic."

Four gently touches my arm. "Hey. If you want to be a writer, you should be one."

I sigh. "If only the world was that simple, Four."

He watches me silently for a minute. Then a group of Dauntless seniors walk in. They see Four and call out to him, grinning. He shakes his head and stays with me. One of the girls walks over and keeps trying to sit on his lap and seduce him. It's obviously creeping him out and making him uncomfortable, because he is all tense and he keeps telling her to go away.

"Lauren," he practically pleads. "Please, please get off of me." She just laughs.

"Get off him," I growl, grabbing her elbow for a second before remembering my training and releasing her.

She glares at me but does. More people file in, and then the teacher does. The class is divided by faction, with the exception of Four and I. We're seated between a huge group of Erudite and a few Amity.

"Okay, class!" the teacher shouts. "For those of you that don't know, I am your teacher, Harrison. Shut up and let me take roll." Everyone quiets down, and I take a good look at him. He's probably forty, with a long brownish gray ponytail, slight beard, fit body, and black clothes. Harrison takes out a black books and begins roll.

"...Four Eaton," he calls. Four raises his hand and Harrison smiles. "Good to know you took Mary's advice, Four."

I zone out until my name is called. "...Beatrice Prior," he calls.

"Tris," I correct quickly, raising my hand.

"Tris," Harrison amends. "You are our only new student in this class. Care to tell us a little bit about yourself?"

"Uh, my name is Tris, I'm Dauntless, and I play softball and soccer and figure skate." I look only at Harrison as I speak.

"Where did you transfer from?" he asks. I mentally facepalm.

"Lincoln Park High," I answer confidently, daring anyone to make a rude remark. And someone does.

"A public school?" Lauren remarks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, a public school," I answer. "You got a problem with that?"

She doesn't get a chance to reply, because Harrison cuts in. "And I'm guessing you like writing?"

"Yes, sir. I really enjoy writing dystopian fiction and paranormal novels. I would say paranormal romance novels, but those are usually trashy and cliché and I prefer the paranormal part over the romance anyway," I explain, wrinkling my nose.

Harrison nods and continues taking roll. Then he hands out a syllabus and reads it out loud. No one really pays attention, though. And Harrison knows that. "Okay, so now that we're through that, I'd like to explain quickly what I'm actually planning on doing, which is pretty much giving you plot idea assignments at the beginning of the week and having you turn them in. Each assignment will help to develop your writing. This week's is a love story, and is a partner project. The partners are Lauren and Martin, Willa and Pablo, Four and Tris..."

After I hear that Four and I are partnered, I turn to him, smiling. He looks relieved.

"I thought I was going to be paired with Lauren," he whispers.

I chuckle and reply, "And I was worried I'd have someone I didn't like."

"So what do you want to make it about?" Four asks, opening a document. "Wait, what's your gmail?"

"It's prioramazingness," I answer, and he types it in. A second later, I get an email with the link to the document in it. I open it and we begin working.