Hello! Wow, I certainly didn't expect to get reviews/follows/favs so quickly! To those of you that reviewed, I thank you. It's always nice to know your work is appreciated. To those of you that fav'd/followed, don't be shy! I'm not sure quite how I feel about this chapter, but the shenanigans will be starting soon. That I do know. Without further ado, Chapter 3!

Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent or the characters.

Tris

I throw open the doors of the Hub and break into a dead run towards the trolley. I finally managed to get away from Ms. Matthews' office after receiving my student debit card. A requirement of our attendance and part of our tuition goes into an account for spending, plus whatever our parents choose to allot for to us each month. I grit my teeth and throw my hands up in defeat, frustrated, as the trolley pulls away without me. Great. Just fucking perfect. I blush slightly, aware that even though it was only in my head, I had used what I had been raised to believe was inappropriate and foul language. It is only the second day of the semester and I'm already going to be late thanks to that woman and her inability to shut up. I blink rapidly, startling myself yet again with my vehemence before shrugging it off. Get it together, Tris. You're Dauntless now.

I begin the long trek across the campus and check my phone hastily, feeling it vibrate in my pocket .

Christina: Where are u? Class in 10! 4 will kill u!

Me: Missed the trolley. Use proper English, Chris. We talked about this. I'm hurrying across campus as fast as I can.

Christina: Ok, c u soon.

I roll my eyes at her blatant disregard to what I said and slide my phone into my pocket again.

I move into a jog. Hopefully I make it in time.

;;

My chest is heaving and sweat is rolling down my forehead when I finally see the Dauntless buildings. Training is going to be miserable after having to run that far. I slow to a walk and start to make my way across the parking lot, but instead am shoved roughly up against the side of the building. A yelp escapes before I can stop it and I begin to thrash about to no avail. A chuckle reaches my ears and I force myself to calm down and assess the situation. I lift my gaze and face my attacker head on and am barely surprised at who it is. Peter, a Candor transfer, is leering viciously at me. He has one hand around my throat and the other is taking a leisurely stroll over my dainty frame. He tears at my shirt, easily beginning to rip it. I flinch and bile races up my throat but I choke it back, hardening my gaze despite the fear currently running rampant through me. Summoning all the courage I can muster, I spit in his face and glare.

"Oh, the Stiff has some fight in her, does she? Good. I'd hate for this to be easy." He sneers down at me.

I shut my eyes tightly and wait for whatever it is he has planned until the roar of an engine forces its way into my mind. I glance around Peter as best I can, shock coloring my expression when a guy on a black Ducati jumps the curb and drifts to a halt to the left of Peter. Instead of dismounting the bike, the driver only gestures to me. I gaze helplessly, pleadingly at whoever it is behind the helmet to help me until I realize Peter's attention is no longer directed at me and his grip has loosened. I bring my knee up into his groin quickly and run to the bike, but hesitate just short of getting on. Over the roar of the engine I barely make out what he says: "Don't think! Just jump!"

I do as he says and we are off.

;;

The wind whips through my hair and stings at my eyes, making them water as we race through the Dauntless grounds. I attempt to discern the identity of my rescuer, but I am unable to come to any solid conclusion. Of course you can't figure out who it is, Tris. It's kind of hard when all you have to go on is a back and an impressive set of abs under your hands. I blush furiously and find that I'm shaking. What began as a slow tremor has escalated into a full blown tremble. With how tight I'm hugging him he has to feel it… Great. The guy literally swoops in and saves me and all I can do is tremble. Great impression.

The bike roars to a stop in front of the gym where the transfer initiates have gathered to await further instruction. They all study me curiously and I find Christina. I can practically hear her squealing and questions and I am not quite sure I'm ready to face them. I look around hastily and breathe a sigh of relief noticing Four is still not here, but that relief is short lived when I realize that Peter somehow is. Well, at least Four won't notice that I'm late I suppose. I jump off the back of the bike and mumble a quick and quiet thank you to my 'masked' savior, embarrassment burning my face to the roots of my hair.

A gloved hand comes slowly to my face and tilts my chin up and away from the ground before he removes his jacket and settles it around my shoulders. After zipping it up, he motions towards the group and I take that as my cue to leave. My senses are assaulted by the scent drenching the jacket and I inhale deeply. It smells of the woods, the wind and something else I can't place… something… masculine. There's no other way to describe it. I force the incident with Peter out of my mind and gather up my focus, determined not to let a moment of weakness derail my training any more than seeing him already will. He will not know that he has had any effect on me. The idea of giving him that satisfaction makes me sick to my stomach and I can feel the color that had so recently been burning my cheeks begin to drain away.

I make my way to Christina, who instantly launches into a thousand and one questions, none of which I am able to decipher. I wave my hand at her, shaking my head. "Later, Chris. Thank God Four isn't here. I don't think I could handl- What?"

I stare at her harshly, annoyed. Her eyes are as large as saucers and her jaw is practically on the floor. She lifts her hand and points over my shoulder just as I hear the one voice I had been hoping to avoid.

"Alright everyone, now that we are all here let's get started. There's been a change in plans today. Instead of learning to shoot we will be learning self-defense techniques. Peter: in the ring in the gym. You're going to help me demonstrate."

I spin around and find a pair of fathomless blue eyes burning a hole into my own, fury and something else I can't decipher waging a war within them. My breath freezes in my chest and my heart begins to race for an entirely different reason that has nothing to do with fear or the trauma I had just experienced. Four secures the helmet under his arm onto the back of his Ducati and makes his way to the door of the gym. So much for him not knowing.

Unknown

I slam my fists in the side of the gym repeatedly, lingering outside after everyone has already entered to gain a handle on my insurmountable rage. How dare Peter touch her! SHE IS MINE. I should have been there to save her. No, instead the pretty boy instructor was. I replay the image of her perfect, slender form wrapped so intimately around his on the back of the bike in my head and I am once again pounding away at the wall. I had heard Peter bragging quietly to his two lackeys, Drew and Al after he slipped into the group from around the building. It had taken every ounce of control I had not to reveal myself and beat him until the light faded away from his eyes. My Beatrice wouldn't want that. I don't want her frightened of me. I must control myself until the time is right. Everything has to be perfect. She deserves perfection equivalent to her own.

I take one more deep breath and slip quietly into the gym to become part of the group once more, making sure that I am as close to her as I can. The scent from her hair wafts in my direction and assaults my senses and I begin to tremble with desire until another scent registers. She smells like HIM. No, no, no, no, no, NO. This can't be happening. I have to act. Tonight is the night.