Still looking for a Beta.
English is not my first language.
Alex only read the first book.
Alex is 18, Eric 20.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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I slouch onto the bench and place my head down on the table. I'm dead tired.
The first training session was kind of brutal. I thought I would be fine near guns, but when Four fired that first shot, I could not help but cower down behind the barricade. The bullet wound in my shoulder burned from the loud reminder.
No one seemed to have noticed – except Four – and I felt ridiculous for it. I still do.
Tears welled up in my eyes every time I pulled the trigger and my mind was assaulted by the noise and memory. The tears did not help while aiming and I missed the target every single time. I think I might have shot Edward's target once, but sadly that does not count since his manikin was two boards away from mine. Edward gave me a death glare when it happened, his blue eyes narrowing at me. It only then registered that soon he will only have one eye and be factionless due to Peter. Should I warn him? I can't even remember when it was supposed to happen.
The rest of the group did pretty well at the firing station. They all managed to shoot the target near the centre at least once. Tris struggled a bit, but Will seemed to have encouraged her. Even Al did better than I expected. Maybe my little pep talk did help, after all? We haven't spoken to each other yet. The daylight making it a little bit more awkward than I expected.
Unfortunately, Four did not seem very pleased with us. We were hardly into the day when he pointed a loaded gun to Peter's head and fired a shot near Molly's foot. He snapped at everybody and stomped around the training ground like a bear with a sore foot. I can't really remember this happening in the book, but then again I cannot remember everything.
I roll my head from side-to-side and rub the arch at the back of my neck. I'm a little stiff from standing so still while aiming. My head feels groggy with sleep and fuzzy from the painful recollections. My arm aches from the weight of the gun. I can still feel the cold mass of it in my palm. I sigh and lift my eyes, not my head, from the table to look around.
I see Al sits with us and I give him a smile. He returns it and falls into a discussion with Christiana about not remembering her in class.
My head is still on the table when people start bringing out the lunch. Bread rolls, cold meat, cheese and other toppings. My stomach rumbles at the sight of the food. I quickly sit up straight and take a roll, not bothering with butter, and place some meat and cheese on it. I'm famished. I did not eat anything last night and there was no breakfast here this morning. I don't think we get breakfast at Dauntless. The thought makes me sad. I love breakfast.
I chomp down on the bread, sighing as I chew.
"Good, eh?" Will asks grinning. Cheeks full, I just nod and smile. He pops a piece of meat in his mouth and chews loudly.
"So what do you think about our training so far?" he asks with a mouth full. I dramatically shudder while shaking my head and he laughs.
"That bad?"
"Unfortunately" I confirm "I'm useless". I take another bite and rapidly finish my roll. "You seemed to do well".
Will has shaggy, dark brown hair that keeps drooping into his eyes. He needs a haircut. I cannot imagine how he could concentrate while shooting the gun with a curtain of hair continuously flopping in his face. I tied my long hair into a high ponytail this morning, sure to pin back all the loose strands. Maybe I should tell him to get a haircut. He will look good with short hair… like Eric's hairstyle.
The inside of my stomach wobble. I grimace and shake my head. I do not want to think about Eric.
"Fast learner. Erudite" he remarks ant taps his head like that should explain everything. Of course I already knew that he transferred from there, but I could not help but roll my eyes at him. Will is likable. I can understand why Christina falls for him.
My stomach drops and the bread in my mouth turn stale when realisation hits me. What if Tris's parents can't help in saving their Faction and for that matter the dauntless victims? If I leave here before the fear simulation and we are unable to do something about the weird-drone-injection-indecent Will could die. Christine and Tris for that matter too, since I'm not sure if this whole following-the-book sequence is still going to work. I cannot let that happen.
For fuck sakes. When did I became the protector of everyone's lives here? Am I going to sacrifice myself to save others? Am I selfless now? A stiff? I should have fallen into Abegnation then.
I drop the half-eaten roll into my plate and swallow hard on what's left in my mouth. Can I live with myself if I run away and just let everything unfold as its suppose to? Let people die. Let Jeanine, Max, Eric and whoever else is behind the insane scheme ruin the lives of others?
No of course not. I'm not a coward. I'll have to face my fear simulation and think of a way to prematurely end this whole plot. I will be brave and I will try and protect the innocent. A smirk lifts the corners of my mouth. Maybe I'm Dauntless after all.
Ha! Maybe even Divergent!
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After lunch Four takes us to one of the training halls. It is an enormous empty hall, except for a few black punching bags, strung from the roof, and a digital board reflecting all our names in alphabetical order. Well – all the names are listed, except mine. I feel a bit cold. Have they already cut me? That seems a bit radical! I've hardly started training. Sure I did bad with the shooting this morning, but it's the first day! I've yet to prove myself.
I feel an angry flush on my face. I cannot be out of Dauntless. How am I going to save everyone? I need more time!
"Why am I not on the board?" my voice has an angry edge to it. Four stops in mid-sentence. I did not even realise he was talking. He arches an eyebrow at me – clearly not impressed with me speaking out of turn.
He turns to look at the board. I can see the tips of his tattoos peek from underneath his collar. "I have no idea?" he states and turns back to me. He opens his mouth to say something else, but his eyes shift from mine and settle to somewhere behind me. My mind only then registers the determined footsteps echoing through the hall.
I scowl. Eric has come to throw me out.
I slowly turn to face him. Eric's stride is powerful and confident. He's barrelling straight towards me.
My frown deepens as I notice the look in his eyes and I glare back at him. I am not going to be hurled out of this place without a fight. I'm tired of being weak. I'm brave…I'm brave.I'm brave I chant in my head.
Eric comes to halt, stopping inches from me, and I tilt my head upwards to look him in the eyes. His face is stoic, no lines pulled into a frown or jaw-gnashing like he did last night. He looks almost indifferent, bored even, but the stormy grey eyes tell a different story. Eric is still fuming.
His proximity is intimidating – his large frame seems to block the world from my vision and the only thing I'm able to see is him. I subconsciously take a step backwards. Eric's mouth twitches up in the one corner, but the action was so quick I might have imagined it.
"Did you honestly think you could get away with it?" his voice is low, but still it carries through the training hall. Coldness creeps up my spine and goose bumps blooms over my skin. Is he still mad about the kick it the face? Geeze, he can really hold a grudge. My apology last night obviously meant Jack Shit to him.
I sigh, but keep my mouth shut. Nothing I say will make this situation better. Eric raises an eyebrow at my lack of response and then nods his head, confirming something to himself.
"You actually did think you'd get away with it" the disbelief in his voice is genuine "You know, for someone from Erudite, you're not very smart". He folds his arms across his chest, the black leather jacket pulling tight over his shoulders.
What? Erudite? I feel the confusion pull at my face and I frown at his words. Eric must have short term memory loss. Did I not tell him last night that I transferred from Amity?
"What are you tal-"
Eric interrupts "What I don't understand is why you would lie. What purpose does it serve you to claim you are from Amity when you are truly Erudite-born?"
I stare at him. Mind whirring – not yet processing what he is saying. Eric unfolds his arms and I notice that he is holding a device in one of his hands. He taps the screen once and the tablet lights up, casting his face in a blueish colour. Eric keeps talking as his fingers works on the screen.
"Last night when we pulled the initiate's records from the Network, yours did not pop up. First we thought it was an error. Sometimes things like that happen, but when we manually searched for you under the Amity database, we also came up with nothing." Eric's fingers stopped what they were doing and turns the tablet's screen towards me.
There, on the screen is my profile. A picture of me, the same one used for my driver's license back home, is in the top-left corner of the screen. Behind my picture is a faded white symbol of an eye. Next to my photo it says "Alexandria Davenport" in big black letters.
I scan the rest of the profile, not believing what I'm seeing. My father is listed as my only relative and he is an Erudite. A sequence of numbers follows, but I have no idea what it means. A bit further below is my aptitude test result and it reflects as Erudite. In the top right corner is a white box with grey cursive words, reading "Current Faction Pending".
Eric lowers the screen before I can read the rest. My eyes travel to his. I can feel the shock plastered on my face. Once again I have no idea what the hell is going on. How is it possible that I'm on their Grid?
"Took me all fucking night to find you. Do you have any idea how many Alex's there are?" Eric seethes and the indifferent mask on his face slowly fades into the tired, angry mood he's really in.
I don't know what to say so I just shake my head. My eyes are still wide and my mind still turning and twisting with all the information.
"A lot" Eric snaps. I guess it could be. He did not have my full name or surname to search with and Alex is a unisex name after all.
Since I've got here, the one thing I've learned so far is just to roll with it. Whatever is happening, I just have to go with the flow. Don't overthink, don't cry, don't yell, scream, kick or throw a tantrum. Just bloody roll with it.
But to go with the flow is not so easy when I feel like I'm drowning. What should I say to this? Should I apologise? Admit to a lie that I did not even make? Will that appease Eric? I hardly think so.
"So why? What's the motive for claiming to be from another faction?" Eric shrugs and folds his arms again. He lightly shakes his head and the movement makes his piercing flash. My eyes are drawn to the two small metal balls directly above his right eyebrow and I wonder if it hurt when he got them. I've never had myself pierced, not even my ears, and I have no idea if it is painful or not. My one friend has a tongue piercing…wait what the hell am I thinking? Bloody hell, I've got such an annoyingly, wandering mind.
Eric waits for my answer and I can see that my lack of response is irking him, so I blab the first thing that comes to mind: "I...um…I'm not… smart". I cringe at my lame answer, but I honestly don't know what to tell him.
"Yeah, it's like you said. I'm not very smart" I nod enthusiastically trying to convince Eric about what I'm saying. "I…um…I though claiming from Amity would fit in better with my personality. A dumb Erudite is something of an oxymoron."
Oxymoron? Seriously? I should shut up now.
"Why not choose Amity then?" Eric questions and waves one hand in the air before returning it to his folded position.
Yes, idiot. Why not choose Amity then? Poor choice of words on my part. Ugh, I suck under pressure.
"I'm not very smart…?" I try once more and bite my tongue before I add something stupid again. Damn, I've always prided myself on being an intelligent woman, but my brain seems to have lost its capability to think clearly.
"Indeed" was Eric's only reply, but the animosity in his eyes are gone. He truly thinks me a dumb-witted imbecile. I'm not sure how I feel about this. Elated or affronted? Eric unfold his arms and types something on the tablet again. A sound beeps from behind me and I turn to look. On the board, dead last in red letters, is my name. I guess Eric must have changed my Faction status. I turn to face him again.
"Don't get too comfortable. You'll be factionless soon enough" he drawls, the bored expression once more on his face, but this time it seems genuine. Annoyance bubbles up in me. Eric thinks I'm too dumb to be Dauntless? I open my mouth to snap at his remark, but before I can retort he turns and strides off into the direction he came from. Arrogant bastard. Actually, I should be grateful he thinks me dim-witted. Maybe he will leave me alone now. Yes, I should be relieved.
But he's still an arrogant bastard.
I unclench my fists at my sides and flex my fingers. I want to punch something.
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Finally! Looks like punching the shit out of a lifeless sack strung from the roof is my niche. Kicking it is even better. Who needs a gun, when you can slam the crap out of them, eh?
I feel excitement build up in me every time the bag moves under one of my blows. By the looks of it, I'm faring better at this than the rest. Even mighty Edward seems to kick awkwardly at the sack. His punches are deadly, but he's too tall and not flexible enough to successfully kick the bag.
Four seems to approve of my moves. He nods encouragingly every time he walks by. He's a good instructor and gives me tips on how to improve my blows. However, it's actually Eric who's helping me the best at this.
Yep, my metal picture of his face on the bag is what spurs my angry kicks and punches. When my knuckles collide with the rough fabric, I imagine that apathetic face of his.
When Four dismisses us for dinner, most of the anger towards Eric and my unprecedented situation is gone. I feel tired, but lighter, more confident. Almost giddy. The others seem to be a bit euphoric as well.
As we walk towards the Pit, Al suddenly turns and announces "I want to get a tattoo."
He grins at us like it is the best idea ever. "A tattoo of what?" Will asks from behind me.
"I don't know. I just want to feel that I fit in here now. Leave my old faction behind and blend in". Al laughs and I smile back at him. He looks happy. That's a good sign.
"Maybe you should die your hair pink" I jest. Most of the Dauntless sports wild looking hair, died in vibrant colours or styled in crazy Mohawks.
"Good idea! Maybe you should get a piercing" Christina nudges Tris.
Tris looks appalled by the idea. She shakes her head "No way. I'm not piercing my face." She holds up her hands like she is physically stopping the suggestion.
"What about your bellybutton?" Christina continues suggestively.
"Or your nipple?" Will cheers from behind. Typical male, but I could not help but laugh at the playful banter. I'm still not sure if this world is fictional or not, but I feel closer to these people here with me now than I did back home with the people I went to school with.
The Pit is buzzing with people. The liveliness is alluring and makes me feel like exploring all of the little stalls and shops. Mixtures of different fragrances floats towards us. Spicy, flowery, woody…I turn and notice a small fragrance boutique tucked into one of the walls. Who would have thought?
Christina and Tris looks eager and quickly announces that we will meet Will and Al at the tattoo parlour later. We have to go shopping first.
"No" Tris says firmly. I look behind me and see Christina holding up a short black mini skirt. She's pestering Tris for the past fifteen minutes about what outfits to pick. I feel a bit sorry for Tris. It must be a big switch to make from wearing grey, formless garb to shapely, slightly scandalous clothing. I have no problem with formfitting clothes, but some of these dresses border on porno-outfits. I've selected a couple of skinny jeans and black tops. Most of them hides the wounds on my arms and shoulder. I try not to think about what happened to me. Covering up the evidence makes it easier.
"Come on. It will look great with your skin!" Christina tries one more time, but Tris just shakes her head.
"Fine" Christina grumbles and heads towards a different shelf.
"Hey, do you mind if I skip coming to the tattoo parlour with you and meet you later for dinner?" I ask after I pay with my points at the cashier. I'm not up for any piercings or tattoos yet and do not feel like waiting there for them while they get theirs done. I want to explore more of the stalls.
"You not getting a tattoo?" Tris asks and drapes a long-sleeved top over her arm. She seems reluctant now to get one as well. Tris without her ravens. No, not happening.
"Not yet, I first want to check something out in one of the other stalls. I'll get mine later." I ramble and walk towards the door "Cool, so see you later then? Cheers!".
I wave goodbye and step outside before they could object and ask to tag along. I can deal with breaking the story line to save lives, but I don't want to tamper with positive things.
I weave my way through the stalls occasionally stopping and admiring what they have for sale. I'm very surprised to see what the Dauntless have here. There are stalls selling clothes, jewellery, food, gear and house hold items. A couple of styling salons, tattoo parlours and bars lines the wall. The Dauntless almost seem normal. I thought of them as emo-just-want-to-fight-and-climb-stuff people. Guess I'm wrong. They all probably have their own apartments and needs to fill it with stuff. I hardly think that they all live in dormitories like us initiates.
I reach the far end of the Pit. There are hardly any stalls here and the place almost seem deserted. A lonely, dimly lit passage leads through the wall to an unknown location. I'm about to turn back when I feel the vibration and the strums of music coming from the shadowy path. I haven't heard any form of music since I got here and the thought never occurred to me that the Dauntless might enjoy it. Curious, I edge closer to the sound.
The deeper I go in, the stronger the music become. An orange glow beckons me until I reach a big glass door. At the top is a neon sign flashing: The Singe. I glance through the glass, but cannot see anything. A smoky haze seems to cloud whatever is behind the doors. A deep baseline rumbles and the stone floor beneath me trembles.
I get a strong sense that I should not be here. I turn to leave, but the then the most dreadful sound comes from the way a just came.
Eric's voice.
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Ok, so I apologise for the late update.
I got distracted by life.
If you like, review.
Mwa/x