September 4th Year 499

I'm not an idiot for choosing Dauntless. I'm not. I made the right choice.

Okay, 'right choice' might be putting it a little strongly. I knew what I was supposed to do and I just…didn't.

But that's okay. It wasn't the right choice, but it wasn't the wrong choice either. It was my choice, and that's what matters. Right?

I'm tired. It's only been two days and I'm already so tired. And I can't stop thinking about that door.

Dauntless might have actually been the worst place to go to find answers. In Amity I could talk to a therapist, Erudite and Candor would both allow me to research to my heart's content, and even Abnegation would have Maria.

At least I'm meeting people; at least I'm not here alone. Of course, Kira left, but I've made new friends just like my dad said. I adapt, I rise above it. Maybe I won't ever truly be like them; I'll never truly be Dauntless. But that's okay because I've always been good at pretending.

I'm fine. It's fine.

I've been trying not to think too much about other factions. I should just throw my whole self into training, into my new life. But the thoughts keep coming about who I might have been if I'd moved my hand just a little to the left or right on Saturday.

Of course, I've been thinking about what the future holds. Eric says that twenty percent of initiates will be cut at the midway point and after the final. I can't wind up factionless, so I have to be better. No, I have to be the best. I need to fight in a way that I always shied away from in Erudite because it's the only way to survive here.

And that makes me feel…It makes me feel…

I don't know how it makes me feel.

Usually, writing down my thoughts brings me clarity. But now I don't know what to think; I don't know how to feel. But it's only been two days.

Getting up at four-thirty in the morning has its little advantages, like being able to sit and write. The fact that I have to do so in the bathroom is less than ideal, but I'll take what I can get. Turning out the lights at ten still feels wrong to me, but whatever I guess. Darkness never helped me sleep and here there aren't even stars to watch. I don't trust my sense of direction enough to start wandering around the compound.

I successfully replace my journal beneath my mattress without anyone noticing before I get in the shower. I know that if anyone tells Four, he's going to make me get rid of it. I bet that initiates in other factions don't have this problem. But I guess that other factions don't have quite the affinity for fire that Dauntless does.

The door to the bathroom opens and shuts with a bang.

"I swear his wake-up call was quieter yesterday," says the voice of a very sleepy Christina. "It's like he's trying to make us miserable."

"He just might be," I chime in.

Christina shrieks. "Jesus, Mimi, what are you doing?!"

"Showering? Did you think the water was just running on its own?"

"…Okay, fair point," she replies.

After another ten minutes under the hot water, I put on my clean uniform and emerge to see Christina, Tris, and many other girls in varying states of ready.

"So what do you guys think is on the menu for today?" asks Christina. "More boxing with a side of belittling? Or will he threaten someone else with a deadly weapon?"

"Don't forget running laps," I add as I unzip my makeup bag. "The running is very important to the Full Dauntless Experience."

Tris looks down at the makeup, then back up to my face. "Seriously? Aren't we going to be sweating today?"

"To look good is to feel good. And it's nothing a little setting spray can't manage."

She doesn't look convinced.

"Look, this has been my morning routine every day for like three years. It just…feels wrong when I don't do it."

My mom insisted that I was too young to be wearing makeup right up until my thirteenth birthday, even then she only taught me very simple techniques. It was very important to her that my siblings and I all knew we were beautiful even without product. And I do know that. I just like the way a little mascara makes my eyes pop.

"The coffee here is shit," says Will when we're all sitting at are usual table.

"Are you surprised?" I am frowning at my own cup. Coffee in Erudite is as much an art form as it is a necessity. I've never been able to find an energy drink that didn't taste like battery acid (Eliza keeps trying to tell me that carbonated Five Alive isn't that bad; I think she's fried her tastebuds).

"I mean, like, no. But I am disappointed."

Tris takes a sip from her own mug – we insisted she at least try it – and immediately gags. "What is wrong with you guys?!"

"Told you," says Will, "it's terrible." He takes another drink.

"All coffee is bad until you put something in it," says Christina. "Unless you're a psychopath."

Al yawns. "All the coffee in the world couldn't make this whole six AM thing better."

"Did you not take zero-hour classes?" asks Will.

"Okay, I hate myself but not that much," he replies with a laugh.

"What did you take?" I ask.

"Intro to calculus three days a week." When I cringe he adds, "It was a 'mom made me do it' thing. Believe me, I would never subject myself to calculus at six forty-five by choice. But that was our deal when she bought me the car I was working on."

"You were working on a car?"

"Yeah. An old X-25 from like 460. The guy who sold it to us said that the engine was shot to hell and the head of engineering himself couldn't get it running again. But those things are built to last. It only broke down in the early eighties. Honestly, if my parents and I were still on speaking terms I might ask if I could bring it to Dauntless." He shrugs. "Might have it brought to Dauntless anyways. I almost had it up and working when I left."

"You got a car that had been dead for twenty years running again?" says Al in disbelief.

"Well, almost running. But, yeah, I'm kind of a genius." A lazy grin splits Will's face.

"So why didn't you stay in Erudite?" Tris looks at him curiously.

"Because I would for real rather drown myself in the lake than do differential equations. Plus, my sister says that the head of engineering is a complete dick and I can work on cars just as well here."

"He is not." I frown.

"Wh– Oh. Oh, yeah! Right. Brother. Oops. My sister isn't even an engineer, I just know that she has beef with him and…well, your sister."

"Natasha?"

"Yeah."

I shrug. "Yeah, a lot of people have beef with Natasha." My sister is funny like that, I've never met anyone with a neutral opinion on her.

Not long after that it's time to head to the training room. Four doesn't walk us there this time and someone took the signs down, so half of us are late.

Tris squints at Will's face when we're all running laps. "Are you also wearing eyeliner?"

"Didn't we go over this in the bathroom this morning?" I raise my eyebrows at her.

"Well, yeah. But he's, like, a boy." Her voice turns up at the end like it's a question.

"And that's meant to bar me from looking good?" asks Will.

Tris opens her mouth with a befuddled expression but before she can speak, Four yells, "Pick up the pace, you five!"

Tris leaves us in a burst of speed and Christina isn't far behind.

"I'll race you guys," says Will.

I reply, "We're not going to catch Tris and Christina."

"Who said anything about catching Tris and Christina? I'm just having fun."

Will and Al have longer strides, but no one ever expects me to be as quick as I am. My endurance is better. Al falls behind with a wheeze and Will falters near the finish line.

From there, we're rotating in stations. Four furrows his brow when our little group of five moves toward the weights together, but doesn't call us out.

At ten, our daily nasty surprise is Eric Coulter. Four doesn't seem any happier than us to have him in the room, even as Eric casually walks up and starts talking to him. The two of them take their time making a circuit of the room, watching everyone carefully.

"Aren't these a sorry looking bunch, ay Four?" says Eric, gesturing to all of us though standing very close to the punching bags my friends and I are currently practicing at. "Have you ever seen a more pathetic group of initiates? If the Stiff's made it, I guess we need to look into raising the standards again."

Tris grimaces, but only hits the bag harder.

"Bet she won't last though," Eric adds. "You remember our days in their shoes, right, Four? Bright eyed and ready to take on the world."

Four rolls his eyes. "I don't remember our class being as irritating as this one."

"Wow, year two and you've already got problem students."

"Some of them."

Eric stares out at us all with narrow eyes. "Four, have you ever heard of the first three jumpers all being girls?"

"Don't think so."

"And here they all are together." He gestures to me, Tris, and Christina. "How pretty."

I am not going to say anything, I tell myself. It's one thing to not take Four's shit, but Eric is a Dauntless leader.

"And they're transfers," Four adds. "Abnegation, Erudite, Candor."

"Unheard of," says Eric like we're interesting specimens and not people who can definitely hear them talking. "They any good?"

Four snorts derisively.

"We can hear you, ya know," Christina jerks her head to look at them.

"Let me guess," says Eric, distinctly unimpressed, "that one's the Candor."

"Yup."

"And that makes you the Erudite." Eric comes closer in a way that reminds me of a shark sensing blood. The ends of his coiffed hair are like the straw used in horse feed.

I tell myself that I'm not bothered. I just need to focus.

"I'm talking to you, Erudite," he says.

My mouth works faster than my brain. "Are you? Because I have a name and I'm not Erudite anymore."

You idiot, hisses the part of my brain that knows consequences exist, what happened to not being bothered?!

Eric just stares at me for several long sentences, eyebrows raised. "So? What is your name then?"

I turn to face him. Jeanine always taught me to be unflappable. If you buckle when someone challenges you, then you've already lost. This is probably not how she imagined me using this skill, but here I am.

"Mimi Malachite." I stick my hand out to him. "Pleasure."

He grips my hand tight, so I grip tighter. Eric's eyes narrow, but I refuse to look away. Eventually, his face relaxes. "Eric Coulter."

If looks could kill, Four would strike me down right now.

"Well, Mimi," says Eric, "I guess we'll just have to see how Dauntless you are." I don't like the way my new name comes out of his mouth. "You know, some would say that second place is just first loser."

"Then I won't be second place."

He looks at me, then at Four, then back to me. But Four cuts in, "Get back to work, Ice Queen."

He and Eric walk away, and I feel like I've won some sort of challenge.

"Malachite." The boy that Will pointed out as Edward sidles up to me on our way to dinner. He steps directly in Tris' path, causing her to glare at him so bitterly he might just combust on the spot.

"Can I help you?"

"You've got a pretty powerful family, right?"

I roll my eyes. "If you're looking for favors, allow me to shatter your dreams right now."

"No favors, just a friend in all this insanity." He sticks his hand out. "I'm Edward."

"I know. I'm Mimi."

He smirks back at me. "I know."

"Mimi, hey." Will drops in beside me. Then looks up at Edward, who is even taller than he is. "Oh…hi."

Edward seems suddenly uncomfortable, but he still nods at Will in acknowledgement. "I was, uh, I was just talking to Mimi here. We Erudite have to stick together, you know?"

"Yeah, hi." Christina catches up on Will's other side. "You're not Erudite and neither is she. We're all Dauntless now and we should put our old factions behind us."

Edward does not look impressed. "Sure thing, Candor."

When we enter the dining hall, Christina grabs my arm and Will's. "Come on. Let's go."

"What was that?" Tris catches up to us while we're waiting in line for our food.

"That," says Will, "was Edward. I tried to warn you, Mimi, I really did."

"I thought you said he was fine."

"Yeah but I meant like fine. Not actually fine."

"Will," says Al, "that is the most nonsense string of words I have ever heard in my life."

Will rolls his eyes. "But you know what I mean, right? Those people who are okay like you can deal with them, but you don't actually like them?"

Al rolls his eyes. "Usually in Candor, we just do or do not like someone. All of that seems a little…"

"Up its own ass?" Christina fills in.

"Much," Al finishes. Then he sighs and puts his head in his hands. "And, like…I don't mean to be a 'bad transfer' or anything, but does anyone else really miss their old faction?"

Will puts his head in his hands and then lets out a quiet scream. When he's finished, he says, "More than I have any right too, because I chose to leave."

Christina nods. "I – I mean yeah."

"I think I would kill for some of my books." Will laughs. "No joke. I didn't finish Abel Pendelton's new book and, like, I'm kinda upset about it."

"I want my laptop," I say. "Or my phone. Just – just to have. I mean…"

"I want my mom." Al laughs and the rest of us follow because our only other option is to cry about it.

"Tris?" asks Christina, tilting her head to the side.

She shrugs. "I don't know." But she doesn't look up at us when she speaks.

"Dauntless is the best thing that's ever happened to me," says Will, still half-laughing but now staring down at his tray. "It really, really is. But…I don't know, I was just…thinking about the arcade that I used to go to with my friend Ravi. He went to Candor, and I'm here, and…we're never going to go back to that arcade." He is grinning, but when he looks up his eyes are red and wet as though he's been crying this whole time. "We're never going to go back."

"Will." I reach out to take his hand because it's all I can do. There was a coffee shop that Eliza and Casey started going to in our first year of upper levels, right after we got permission to start walking home on our own. We told Eliza's parents that we would go there to do schoolwork but so much more often we would only get as far as opening our laptops.

And I'm never going back.

Christina takes a gasping breath. "All of my friends stayed in Candor. And I – I just know that they're all together just…just doing things without me." Her shoulders shake as she inhales. "And it hurts." She scrubs her face with her sleeve. "This is humiliating."

Al puts his hand on her shoulder, and she folds toward him, pressing herself against his chest. His head is bowed, but I can see his tears glimmering in the overhead lights.

Tris is clenching her fists so tightly that the pale band of skin around her left knuckles turns even paler. She is steeling herself against her own sadness, though I can see it just in the way that she gnashes her teeth, in the way she narrows her eyes. Will laces his fingers through mine and it only now occurs to me that my free hand is shaking. So much of me – the practical side, the one that keeps me from embarrassing myself – wants to end this interaction here and now. If I allow the dam inside me to crack, the crack will spread and I will be paralyzed by my grief.

But Will is still holding my hand.

Tris is the first to speak a complete sentence. She touches her hand to her new tattoo – three birds in flight – as she says, "But…But we're not alone."

Will's smile turns a little more sincere. "Not alone."

"Not alone," Al repeats.

Christina lifts her head out of Al's chest. "Not alone."

There are tears in my eyes. "Not alone."