I don't own Divergent, Veroinca Roth does!

Reluctantly, I let go of Four's hand, but I can't take my eyes off of his face; his lips still curled into a smile.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he says.

"What?" I ask cluelessly.

"It's an expression, what sort of place did you come from?"

"Obviously an unfashionable place, " Christina scoffs, "You won't fit in here like that, " she points at my outfit," You're dauntless now, we like dark colours, and grey, isn't exactly the right kind of dark. We're gonna have to look at what you've brought. So boys, if you don't mind, please leave. We need to fix this one up-"

"- No, Chris, it's fine."

"Fine? Hell no, you my dear, wear no makeup and clothes that do not complement your figure. I don't need you to be beaten up on the first day. So lets, go. Shoo boys, shoo." She pushes the four of them out the door and goes over to my draws. She pulls them open and tips the contents onto the floor, "This is too colourful," she states as picks up a red tank top as if it was an expired piece of food.

"And this...is too what were you thinking." she insults as she pulls outs my last item of clothing, a loose-fitting, wooly jumper, "So, we've established that you own two pairs of black skinny jeans, and a black tank top. You, girl, are too colourful. Go put those on," She says chucking my jeans and top over, "then we'll go and buy you some things." I take the jeans and top and change in the bathroom.This is ridiculous. Really. I emerge and suddenly Christiana is all up in my business, attacking my face with a black pencil. "Just a little bit of this. It'll help, I swear." She runs the pencil along my eye lashes. I turn around to the mirror and look. I don't look the same. I used to struggle to pass for 16, but now, I really look it. The girl in the mirror, she's in all black, her eyes no longer too big for her face and they almost complement her nose. Christina comes from behind and takes the hair tie out of my hair.

"Christina, I'm not going to look pretty, not matter what you do."

"I'm not going for pretty, I'm going for noticeable."

"I know, come on, you don't have enough clothes to survive here and we need to take your old clothes to a charity shop, they might fit in there."

"Oi!"

"Come on!" She drags me away from the girl I'm looking at.

"Chris, I'm not sure this is me." I say as I appear from the changing room in a dress which, too me is more of a top, " Are you even sure that this is a dress, I'm pretty sure that this is more of a top?"

"No, this is perfect! It wasn't old you, but the new you? This is great you can wear it to the next party, I'm sure there'll be one soon." She reassures me.

"Parties? Really? Do you guys have many parties? "

"Well, there's a few, we don't go to every one of them, but with this dress?" She says as she points to me, " we have to go to at least one, please?"

"Okay, we'll go, I don't mind. Now is there much more that I need to buy?"

"Well, lets see shall we." She picks up my bag and rummages through, "Well, we have enough tops, you've also got some jeans at home, we have shoes," She picks out a pair which look more like a torture device than things one would use to walk, " Now, all we need to get you is makeup. This should be fun." I take off my dress and pay for the clothes. Shit, this costs a lot, that;s all the birthday money gone. Well, not too long until christmas.

As we pace through the isles of makeup, I can't help but wonder if all this necessary? Who needs all these mascaras? Who even wears bright turquoise eyeshadow? Does it suit anyone? Hot pink as a lipstick? What's wrong with lips?

"Let's see you have really striking blue eyes, so this," She interrupts my thoughts as she holds up a palette containing three colours, a gold, a brown and a pale creamy colour, "Should do well. You also need an eyeliner, you can't just go on always using mine, oh and mascara, your eyelashes need more volume, and concealer we'll cover up those dark shadows, oh this-" she picks up a bright red lipstick, I've had enough.

"Chris, stop, just the basics." I warn.

"These are basics-"

"No, Chris, they're not. I'll take the concealer, mascara and eyeliner, I don't need these eyeshadows or all twelve shades of red lipstick."

"But-"

"-but nothing. Now come on, I'm broke." I drag her arm to the till.

"Christina, I don't even know how to apply eyeliner, I didn't need this did I?" I enquire.

"No, no, no. I'll teach you." She plucks the pencil out of my hands, " Look, just above the lashes, then wing it out slightly. Now come on, apply that mascara or we'll be late for breakfast." I take the wand which is bigger than my eye and apply the black goop to my lashes. I walk out the bathroom in my almost goth outfit, black jeans, black look-a-like doc martins (apparently, that's what they're called according to Chris), a black tank top with a lose knit black jumper which slinks off one shoulder.

"So, this is me now?" I ask looking at her for advice.

"No, this has always been you, but now you wear better clothes and makeup." She opens the door and we leave.

As we walk across the courtyard, I look around, this is my school now. This is where I am for the next two years. It's so big, how will I ever learn my way around. I bump into a figure dark haired tall figure dressed in all blue.

"Beatrice?" He says.

"Caleb?" I reply.

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