Hi!

For those who have follow me on Tumblr, this one is for youuuu!

This is a multi-part one shot (ha) and I'll be updating a new chapter each night. There's only eight chapters, so feel free to wait until the very end if you'd like. All the usual stuff applies, I only own Rylan and his ducks, Everly and her wardrobe, Jason and his aliens, the bars Harrison owns, and Frank's rare appearances.

I will put one warning on here, because I know at least one person is going to message me to say how toxic Eric is, and that warning is that Eric Coulter is the villain of Divergent. I do not know how else to be any clearer. He is not a good guy. Were he to really exist, the man would be a walking red flag. There is something about whatever I write that evokes the deep, dark need for people to point out that he's not a great person and to that I say, "Yes. I know. I can fix him. At least in this story." However, he will probably come off rude, mean, arrogant, toxic, manipulative, etc. If this bothers you, please stop reading now.

To everyone else, enjoy and Happy Valentine's Day!

Major thanks to Erin for editing this.

The Invitation

The envelope is heavy in my hand.

I open it while Four instructs the class to keep fighting, and the stress in his voice makes my head hurt. He's been sullen for the past hour over the scoring, and I don't blame him. It's abysmal, but especially this far into the training. My presence in the training room also stresses him out, but there's nothing I can do about it.

I had chosen Dauntless less than a year ago. Not long after my eighteenth birthday, I sliced my palm over a pit of coals, and desperate to get away from Amity, picked the most opposite faction I could.

Dauntless seemed like a fantastic escape from a world that had held me captive my entire life; if I stayed, I'd be given whatever I wanted, but at a price. My father would push me to marry his friend's son, I'd be expected to have child after child, while bowing to the unrelenting pressure to be happy and grateful no matter what. If I could escape an arranged marriage, I'd be given a house, and while I swept my kitchen and hung my clothes to dry, I'd spend my days being groomed to be someone's wife. Probably still Landon. Or maybe someone older, who hadn't married because they weren't actually that kind. I'd still be expected to listen to my parents, and if I did resist, I'd be in trouble with the entire faction.

Either way, it was a bleak future, and an even bleaker realization that nothing would change even if I wanted it to.

To keep the peace, I'd down peace serum morning and night, and the continuous haze would dull my ability to feel anything but happiness. I wouldn't talk back to my husband, or cause him any undue stress. I wouldn't protest the factionless coming in to eat with us, even when they took more than their fair share, or pushed the members of Amity out of the way. I wouldn't dare complain when I was left home with all of my future children, alone, and expected to have dinner ready, followed by a quiet evening of putting twelve kids to bed while my husband looked on fondly.

Deep down, I knew I couldn't stay, despite everyone else thinking it was fine. To my horror, my friends cheerfully accepted their fate, encouraging me to pick Amity when the day came. The thought made my skin itch, and by the time I saw an out, it was almost too late.

Landon's father showed up the day before my birthday to solidify a wedding date. Even though I knew this was coming, my stomach had twisted so sharply I almost threw up. Talks of a winter wedding, amongst banks of snow while foxes skittered in the background wafted up the stairs. He spoke of the decorations his wife would make, and the desserts my mother could bake.

The conversation swiftly changed, and my nails dug into the banister as I heard my father proclaim that I'd be a fine wife, because I was amicable. Easy going. Sweet and kind, a great listener, and endlessly patient. The traits he spoke about to Jerry were nothing impressive, but they were what Landon would be looking for: someone who'd make his breakfast with a smile, then spend my day awaiting his return, while never disagreeing with him.

While Jerry cheerfully accepted me as his future daughter in law, I stepped backward, right into Forrest, as our father announced he'd run it by me in the morning, but not to worry. I, Everly Carlen, would love to marry Landon in front of the Amity faction. My brother whispered for me to be quiet, then pushed me away, and bounced downstairs to distract my father. Forrest threw me a look that warned me that he was trying to help, but there was only so much he could do.

He trudged upstairs an hour later, and quietly informed me our father refused to budge on the issue. He told Forrest to mind his own business, and that I would marry Landon because it was the right thing to do. When I chose Amity, the entire faction would celebrate at our wedding, and this conversation would be forgotten and forgiven.

I knew what I had to do.

On the day of the Choosing Ceremony, I picked Dauntless without any hesitation. It was a bold move, especially given my height and build, but I didn't have a choice. My parents sat in the crowd, and behind them, the others from Amity were a blur of jewel tones and zoned out stares. To the side, a wave of black took up the seats staring at me intently. They weren't drugged into oblivion, but smiling, almost daring me to pick elsewhere.

I did.

I didn't pick Abnegation because I'd worked with them before and found their lives to be a complete bore. I didn't pick Erudite because I didn't want to spend my days locked away in a lab or a hospital, and I didn't pick Candor because I knew too little about them. I picked somewhere the complete opposite of Amity, in hopes of living a brand new life, and figured Dauntless would be a great place to start over.

Once the coals sizzled, I caught sight of my father's face. His expression burned itself into my memory, because the look of horror was hard to miss, but so was the anger.

When I walked to join the others, he was staring at me so furiously that I was shocked he didn't try to drag me back home with him. Only because he couldn't. I was immediately lost in a sea of people. There were others who had chosen Dauntless, mostly male and much taller than me, but some were from Erudite. Some were from Candor. Two were from Abnegation and, unsurprisingly, I was the only one from Amity. Safe within the wall of dark colors and people towering over me, I left with the transfers and never looked back.

The guilt was crushing, but temporary.

By the time we reached Dauntless, I felt freer than I ever had.

The joke was on me when surviving Dauntless proved to be harder than anticipated. Marrying Landon didn't sound so terrible when someone punched me in the head. Or when I ate lunch alone, or when Eric sneered at my sweaty self as I tried desperately to stay alive against one of Karl's friends. I found myself awash in my own fears, sinking beneath a grueling scoring system designed to prove I could cut it here.

My only saving grace was my brother.

On Visiting Day, he was the only one from my family to show up. He was the only one dressed in bright green plaid, and the only one with long hair. When he saw me, he didn't let on that he knew I looked like death, or that the way I was chewing on my lip to keep from crying wasn't working. He sprinted toward me, nearly knocking an arguing Eric and Four out of the way, and hugged me so tightly I couldn't breathe. When he was sure I was fine, he whispered that he knew I was doing great, and if I wasn't, that I should cheer up, because Landon had already gotten married and divorced in the short amount of time I'd been here and everyone in Amity knew why.

I both laughed and sobbed at the news, not because I felt anything for Landon, but because Forrest believed I'd be fine. When he let go, he smiled proudly. One of the other Leaders, Rylan, slinked by with a lingering stare as my brother loudly announced that the Amity faction was still grieving my absence, and a few others were now considering Dauntless as a faction to pick. I didn't believe him, but I didn't argue. I knew he wasn't here for long, so I nodded, wiped my eyes, and we went to the Mess Hall for lunch. For the first time since picking Dauntless, I didn't eat alone, and it was the first meal that actually tasted like something.

While everyone else had their parents desperately trying to figure out how people survived here, Forrest filled me in on what was happening back in Amity. He distracted me with tales of squirrels living in his attic, and the great goat escape that Johanna was still dealing with. And while I laughed into my lunch at the news that Carole was fighting for chicken rights and Don was nowhere to be found, Eric and Max sat down a few tables away. They watched with an intense stare that would have made me uneasy, if I were paying attention to them.

I wasn't.

I was too happy to see my brother, and wanted to take advantage of every second that I could.

When Forrest left a few hours later, it was like the world was collapsing. He slipped me an envelope while he thought no one was looking, and told me to open it later. He hugged me once more, said a dramatic farewell to the few parents staring at him in confusion, and hightailed it back to Amity. I stood next to a boy sobbing so hard he started choking, and when Eric walked by, his look of disgust was aimed at the both of us.

That night, I opened the letter from Forrest, and read it twice. He spent most of it telling me how proud he was that I'd left. He admitted he would have chosen somewhere else, but guilt kept him in Amity to help our parents. He enclosed a few things I didn't expect –a note from my friends Sophia and Courtney, hair ties and a few bows made by my sisters, and a thick black card with someone's name on it –and told me he'd see me when I came through Amity on a patrol and to use the card to buy whatever I needed.

It was enough to get me through the rest of initiation.

The hair ties came in handy, the letter was a gushing reminder that I'd always have Amity –even if I didn't want to go back or if I happened to fail out of Dauntless, and the black card had enough points to buy a few things to make my time easier. I didn't recognize the name printed on it, but I didn't have a way of asking anyone. I simply kept my head down, stayed in my own lane, and kept pushing until initiation was over.

The aftermath of initiation ending wasn't any better.

Dauntless had almost zero need for someone like me. I quickly figured out that I wasn't skilled enough to walk with the soldiers on the routine patrols, and I was too inexperienced to be considered for almost every job. My only friend from initiation was Karl, and though he was hired almost immediately, his name didn't give me any connections or perks. He was as unknown as I was, and his only suggestions was to try the kitchens and see if they needed help.

He must have realized what a crappy thing that was to say, because he immediately apologized, and told me he'd ask around on my behalf.

Luckily, I didn't need his help.

Max appeared a day later with an offer I should have refused but couldn't.

To my surprise, he asked if I'd be interested in training the transfers with Four. The next initiation wasn't for a few months, so I would have plenty of time to learn the curriculum, intern in the Control room, and walk a few patrols to get a feel of Dauntless. I'd be given an apartment to myself, a couple sets of uniforms, and a higher security clearance than most members.

And it paid well.

The offer was generous, but it wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. He explained that their numbers were down, and their initiation had begun to cut more initiates than they kept. Word had gotten out about the ruthless way the members were chosen, and in turn, hopeful transfers weren't showing up in droves. My own class had been one of the smallest so far, and it left all the Leaders nervous. Max had come up with the brilliant idea to bring me on as a success story, and hopefully, a positive publicity move to garner better numbers the next time around.

My position with Four would be promoted as a new Dauntless, one where women could succeed alongside the men. He told me to take a few days to think it over, but hinted he was expecting me to say yes. I accepted the job that day. It was my best option, and I hoped that the meager amount of respect it would give me would be worth it.

It wasn't.

So far, most people looked at me in surprise whenever I walked anywhere with Four, and the other Leaders of Dauntless seemed ambivalent on the decision. After a few months of learning the ropes, Jason and Rylan were kind to me, but clearly amused by the decision. They occasionally invited me for after-hours dinners or to sit in on their meetings regarding the upcoming initiation. Max checked in often, always reassuring me I was doing a great job. Tori was the most supportive, offering advice where she could, but always reminding me to watch my back because not everyone would like me, and they'd gleefully take me down the second they could. Jeremy, a newer Leader, was outright suspicious of me, and went as far as to ask if I was planted here by the Amity faction.

That was laughable.

But Eric, Eric loathed the very sight of me.

It was easy to figure out why. I wasn't who he wanted in Dauntless. In his mind, I shouldn't have passed initiation. I should be back in Amity, staring at the clouds and waiting for someone to tell me what to do. It became obvious that I was of no value to Eric; I wasn't strong, I wasn't as fast the other soldiers, and my height was a disadvantage. My entire existence here was an annoyance to him: he was responsible to keep me alive as part of the army, and it was only a matter of time before someone realized I was a weak link in the Dauntless faction, and it would affect Eric.

But I wasn't a weak link.

In fact, if anyone ever bothered to ask, I could help more than they could ever imagined.

My father oversaw the entire agricultural department of the Amity faction, and I had helped him since I was a child. Amity was in charge of how the food was distributed, which meant everyone worked hard to get to know my father and his family. This also meant that I knew the Leaders of the other factions quite well. I'd sat with my dad while he spoke with Jack Kang, discussing ways to make sure each faction received equal amounts of food. I'd met Marcus multiple times, ignoring his slimy stare and forced, faux benevolence as he showed us around Abnegation and asked for an increase in their orders so they could help the factionless. I'd even met Jeanine, the least friendly and most intense Leader, as she smiled tightly and tried to think of ways to genetically engineer the food to last longer, or make it so Erudite wasn't dependent on Amity's help.

And Harrison, I'd known of him for years.

There was something different about him, something that made me want to ask him a few questions, but I never did. I saw him in Amity dozens of times, always on Dauntless' behalf. He'd joke with my brother about hunting in the forest, or he'd pick up Zander and whirl him around, but he stayed clear of me like I was harboring some plague and he'd been warned that I was contagious. He would say sometimes say hello or nod, then speak mostly to my father. I never figured out why, but I usually guessed it had something to something to do with Eric.

I'd met him when I was fifteen.

It was unlikely Eric cared that we'd met before, nor would he remember. I sat next to my dad in Johanna's office the first time I ever saw him, and I remember thinking Eric was a little too good looking to be storming up the stairs to snap that our faction was defenseless and we were essentially sitting ducks. I also remember thinking he was too young to be the Leader of Dauntless, and too smart to be in the barn. He walked gracefully, but angrily. His gaze held a slew of emotions, mostly disapproving and impatient, and his posture hinted he thought very little of the Amity faction.

When my father politely declined to go find Johanna for him, Eric stared at me with a gaze as cold as the winter outside, then turned on his heel and left.

"How old is he?" I asked my father, carefully crossing off an item off his to do list. "He doesn't look old enough to be a Leader."

My father didn't answer.

I stared in the direction Eric went, wondering if he'd come back up here.

"What's his name?"

"Everly, don't even start with those questions. Eric is a menace to society." My father's answer was accompanied by a weary sigh, as though my question meant more than it did. "Besides, you don't want him knowing who you are. He's not even supposed to be in Amity."

"I see."

I crossed another item off, then promptly tried to forget about Eric storming through the barn to tell us how we were about to die.

Over the years, I saw him off and on, always with the same indifferent look on his face.

When I was seventeen, he definitely noticed me.

I walked with Landon down the pathway, fending off his questions about my afternoon plans, and I almost stopped in my tracks when I saw the Dauntless soldiers. They spilled into Amity like ants, tearing through on whatever mission they were assigned. They didn't have permission to be here, and it was clear they'd been ordered to hurry. Whatever they were looking for they found quickly, and by the time I realized Eric was staring at me while Harrison tried to get his attention, they were done. A man was dragged from the woods and shoved into a truck, and Eric's acidic stare skirted from me to Landon, and then he was gone.

When I accepted the job with Four, I saw Eric once more. He didn't smile. He merely nodded and welcomed me with absolutely zero enthusiasm. His disinterest would be insulting, but I was too relieved to have made it this far, and I pushed the thought out of my head that he might decide I don't belong here.

My success here could amount to more, but no one seemed to think I knew anything about the other factions. I was thought of as Four's assistant, almost a novelty to help the Dauntless numbers increase the next time around, despite the few times I'd volunteered to help out.

Which is why Four's stare goes right to the paper in my hand.

It's addressed to only me, and judging from the look on this face, that doesn't sit right with him.

"What is it?" His voice is low as he tries to read it, and when he can't, he lets out of a huff of exasperation. "Are they moving you somewhere else?"

"It's an invitation to some meeting." My answer to him is low as I watch a boy scramble to get back on his feet. "I don't know what it is."

"Why did you get invited?" Four's eyes narrow in anger, but it's lost on me. "You're no one here."

"Thanks." I answer dryly, shoving the invitation back in the envelope. "That was nice, Four."

"Well, you aren't." His answer belies his frustration. After working with him for a few months, I doubt he wants to attend…whatever this is, and that his insult lies elsewhere. "Not all trainers are invited to meetings. Especially not brand-new members who are being used as Dauntless propaganda."

"Do you want to go?" My stare meets his, now impatient and bird-like, and when I don't back down, he shrugs. "I'll tell them you can take my place."

"No." Four's stare eventually hardens, and not just because someone is screaming for their partner to stop fighting. "I just have no clue why they'd invite you to something and not me."

"Maybe your invitation will be here later." My answer is as even as I can make it.

My initial thought is that I don't even want to go. I've been invited to a few things outside work, and they were always stressful. The few dinners I've attended with Rylan and Jason were fine, but hectic. Eric was usually there. So were other friends of theirs, and I often ended up on the outskirts, left to make small talk with one of the girlfriends. Occasionally, I was the only girl there, and spent most of the night fending off questions about Amity by soldiers who thought they'd use the information to impress Eric.

But I've never been invited to a meeting that came on a secret piece of paper, hand delivered by one of the soldiers.

"Yeah, well, enjoy. They're gonna eat you alive."

Done with our conversation, Four crosses his arms over his chest and stalks toward the class. He focuses on a guy who looks much older than eighteen fighting a boy who looks much younger than eighteen. The uneven match would make my chest hurt, but I've learned there isn't much I can do about it.

I walk to the benches and shove the invitation into a stack of papers, and figure I'll decide what to do with it later.

The night sky is as black as the uniform of Rylan, causally lounging atop a railing meant to keep members from falling to their death.

It's not at all wide, and he shouldn't be sitting on it. I suppose he considers it brave to balance so precariously on it, especially when Eric joins him with an eye roll and points to the loose bracket holding it in place. Rylan falling to his death would mean someone has to take his place, and likely Eric would have to cover until someone could fill in.

From a distance, I watch the two of them discuss their return from their patrol. As someone not in Leadership, I have no clue where they've been. I could go look it up; my time in the Control Room has left me with enough knowledge of how to track where the patrols went. Eric's location isn't always tracked, and Jason and Rylan routinely declined to submit any information about where they were going.

They're soon joined by several others. I recognize Peter as he heads toward them, determined to become part of their inside circle. Jeremy arrives looking tired and cold, and even Karl shows up. I stay at the table I've found, sipping on the drink someone has sent over, relieved that today is over. I take in the people around me, loudly discussing their day, and idly wonder who built this place.

Dauntless has lots of unique locations to check out. I was surprised to find dozens of bars crammed in between the shops, along with plenty of restaurants. The Pit was a popular hang out, but so was this: a roof top bar hidden on a large, expansive balcony that overlooked the docking bay. It's dark, covered partially by an awning, and dotted with fire pits surrounded by seating. The bar operates almost all night and is always crowded. It's a favorite amongst members returning from their routes, and nearly impossible to get a table. I had been lucky to find this one, and it was currently earning me a few dark looks from people hoping I'd leave.

"Are you going to finish that?"

My perusal of the crowd is interrupted by none other than Eric.

My gaze rises to meet his, and I'm struck by how solid he looks. In his uniform, he is tall and broad, but mean looking. His expression holds no joy or approachability, only the hint of a sneer he's failing to hide. His nose is a little too sharp for his face, and his cheeks are covered in a shadow of stubble.

When I don't answer him, he cocks an eyebrow at me and his posture changes. "Do you regularly get drunk by yourself, Amity?"

"No." I try to hide my wince at the nickname. "Someone sent it over. I don't even know what this is."

"And you're drinking it. How smart."

Eric slides into the booth like he owns the place. Ever on alert, he keeps an eye on the area around us as he scoots closer, until he's too close. I'm hit with the scent of tobacco and pine, like he's come straight from a bonfire in the woods. He rests his hands atop the table, and it's hard to miss the bruising along his knuckles.

Before I can ask who he punched, he looks down at me, and his lips turn up mockingly.

"You aren't worried what's in it?"

"No. The bartender said he didn't know who ordered it, but that he made it for me. I'm sure it's fine." My head spins at the close proximity, and I try to remind myself he's dangerous. Four has warned me Eric will use anything I tell him against me, but I can't help but keep talking. "Um, how are you? How was your patrol?"

The stupidity of my question doesn't go unnoticed.

"It was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary." Eric answers as his expression becomes amused. "Listen, I'm not here to make small talk, Amity. I'm only here because I need help with something, and I think you're the right person for the job."

"What kind of help?"

My answer is uncertain, and he knows it.

If Dauntless is built upon bravery, Eric is the poster child for the faction. Whatever he's about to ask is either a dare to prove I belong here, or a way for me to humiliate myself.

"How often is Johanna out of her office?" Eric inches closer, and his uniformed arm hits mine. His jacket is unbuttoned down his sternum, and when he leans in, I'm impressed by how tall he really is. "We've been unable to get ahold of her for the past few weeks and no one seems to know when she'll be back. Is she always gone so much?"

"It depends. It's getting colder, so she's probably helping prepare for winter." My answer is especially careful. "If you need her, you can always make an appointment. Someone will find her, especially if it's about the food deliveries."

"I can't make an appointment." Eric stares, making sure I'm looking right at him. "She doesn't approve of me in her faction. She doesn't like Rylan or Jason, either. She's recently become vocal of her disapproval of Jeremy, and Max is gone for the next few weeks. Harrison is assigned elsewhere and won't be back in time. Either way, it seems that everyone here is too aggressive for her. I was thinking perhaps you could go see her."

"To do what?"

"Nothing major. Ask her a few questions, get a few answers. I'm sure our newest official trainer can handle this assignment." Eric's easy tone sends a shiver up my spine. "That is, if Four will let you out of the training room."

"He's not in charge of me," I answer without thinking. When Eric's lips pull up even further, it's obvious he knows exactly what he's doing. "I don't take orders from him."

"Good. Then you'll accompany me next week. I'll request the meeting under your name, and tell you exactly what to say. You'll get her to agree to what I need, then we'll head back. I'm sure she'll trust one of her former members," Eric murmurs, tearing his stare away from me to shake his head at Rylan. "Right?"

I follow his stare across the balcony, to Rylan watching us. He elbows Jason as he whispers something, and Jason responds with a curt nod.

"Yeah, she'll trust me. What exactly do you want me to ask her?" Fear explodes in my chest, and I know there's a great chance this isn't something I want to be involved in. Not like anyone has asked me to be involved, but I've tried to stay out of the political entanglements Dauntless often involved themselves in. Four had explained that Dauntless regularly overstepped their bounds in their fervent attempts to protect others, and it wasn't always well received. "Is it something you've already asked her? What am I getting her to agree to?"

"You'll see." Eric answers patiently. "I'll tell you more when it gets closer. It's not urgent, but it's not something anyone else needs to know."

"Okay."

My fate is sealed. I take sip of my drink to distract myself, while Eric watches me. It's unnerving to have him beside me like this, and I frantically try to remember what I know about him. Four has been very upfront about his dislike of Eric, but also very upfront about how dangerous Eric is. I was told to keep my distance, and the day Eric wanted something from me was the day my life was over.

"How do I know when –"

"I'll be in touch." Eric rises from the booth, turning to look at me once more. "Not that this needs to be said, but this stays between us. If word gets out, it puts the whole mission at risk."

"Of course."

I try to sound like I know what I'm talking about. I don't. I have no clue what Eric really does here, and even less of a clue as to what he does when he leaves. For all I know, he could be outside murdering people and no one would be any wiser.

He stands still for a moment, letting his fingers graze along the tabletop. His head is cocked to the side as others join his friends. Lauren is one of the first ones to join Peter, followed by several others I don't know. Rylan hops down off the railing with a huff, and his long hair trails behind him as he narrows his eyes at her. Eventually, he smiles just enough to appear welcoming, and the group grows as more soldiers arrive.

Karl is soon accompanied by a girl I don't know, and she takes hold of his arm with a smile. I think they've been dating off and on and now, and I'm hit with a wave of white-hot jealousy. Not that she's dating Karl; he's a nice guy and was a Godsend during training. I'm jealous that none of them seem lonely. Rylan is soon joined by his girlfriend, and Jason's shows up seconds later. Both girls are cheerful and delighted to be part of the group, but also unbothered by the looks from others.

It appears I'm not the only one who feels like they're on the outskirts of things.

And while I've never felt the burning desire to be paired up with anyone, especially knowing my future once held a marriage to a man I didn't even like, it stings to sit here by myself. Nursing a sugary drink that will leave my head hurting tomorrow, staring past Eric as he eventually strides away from the table, it dawns on me how truly and utterly alone I am here.

The only person who would even notice if I went missing is Four, and what an utterly depressing thought that is.

A few days later, I head to the bar listed on the invitation.

I'm a little wary of drinking anything again so soon. The last drink I had left my head throbbing, and my only respite was something Four gave me when I showed up feeling like death the next morning. He was smug as he handed it to me, and though he didn't ask, it was obvious he knew I'd been out.

My evening was a bust.

I sat and watched Eric and his friends, and though some looked in my direction, I didn't try and join them. I pretended to be enjoying the solitude, while simultaneously wishing I knew anyone else to hang out with. I could have gone and talked to Karl, but that felt desperate. So, I finished the drink, watched Eric stare boredly back as Lauren attempted to talk to him, paid my tab, and walked home as the bar grew even more crowded.

This bar isn't one I've been to before. The Snooty Fox is large and spacious, decorated in red neon signs, and packed despite the early hour. I don't know anyone sitting at the bar, but I do see a few of Karl's friends. They wave hello as I make my way through the tables, continuing until I reach the back, and there I find another group waiting.

Each person has an envelope in their hands. The table next to them is covered them, in rows of pink and red, with a small sign that says Take One. Each envelope has a name on it, labeled in pretty writing, and a small number in the corner. There's only one Everly, but others are duplicates: there are six Jasons, three Sarahs, five Franks, a dozen Jessicas, several Twains, and two Erics. My name is next to Rylan's, and his is next to Harrison's. The envelopes decorated with heart stickers, along with a small, stamped logo of a gold heart.

"Well, it's nice to see they aren't totally hideous. Rylan did a decent job after all."

I turn to see Rylan's girlfriend perusing the same table as me. When our eyes meet, she smiles and moves closer.

"Hi! I'm Christina. I've seen you around a few times." Christina extends her hand, and her eyes widen when I shake it. "I know you're Everly. Rylan has mentioned you before."

"I hope it was good." I let go, having no clue why Rylan would ever talk about me. "I am Everly. I, uh, work with Four."

"I'm sure you're loving it." Her tone is dry, and she laughs when I wrinkle my nose. "Everyone knows he's the most boring member we have."

"You aren't wrong. Last week, I asked what he was doing after the class, and he said he was going home to organize his shirts. I don't think he was making it up, either." I reach out to touch the cards, and next to me, Christina snickers. "He dates a friend of yours, right?"

"He did. They're currently on a break, and I'm encouraging her to make it permanent. Who knows if she'll listen." Christina whispers like she's sharing a secret with me, and I find myself hoping we'll be friends. She's the same height as me, her hair is just as dark, and her kindness is encouraging. "Do you know what these are for?"

"I don't. I got the invitation but no clue what we're doing." My confession comes as Rylan joins us. His expression is nothing but absolute joy as my fingers skim over an envelope. "Is it…a party?"

"Sort of."

Rylan stares me down like he's investigating something. I half wonder if he knows Eric asked me to meet with Johanna, but of course he does. They work together, so it's unlikely he doesn't know what Eric is doing. But his stare is wild; he keeps looking at the top of my head and squinting his eyes, like he's trying to guess something. He tilts his head, then looks at Christina, then me, then back to Christina.

"You might end up at a party. You never know." Rylan's mysterious tone evokes an eyeroll from Christina. "Hey!"

"It's not that deep. There really isn't a party like you're thinking." Christina elbows him. "Don't lie to her."

"Fineeeee." Rylan grins even wider, then gestures dramatically at the table. "Before I tell you, just know it's a very big honor to be invited to this exclusive club. So exclusive that you'll be killed if you tell anyone. In fact, it's –"

"It's not that exclusive," Christina interrupts with a shake of her head. "You know what? I'll just tell you. We're having a Valentine's Day exchange. The faction doesn't really celebrate, but a group of us does. Basically, you pick a person you don't know and send them a valentine. On the fourteenth, everyone gets together to hang out. The Valentines don't have to mean anything. It's just for fun. The rules are no one can pick someone they're close with and no switching. It's a great way to meet new people. We invite people we think will participate, and so far, we've had great results."

"Oh." I'm surprised by her answer, because I assumed I was being invited to something nefarious. I skim the envelopes curiously, and it's hard to miss the way my chest tightens when I read certain names. "Do I just pick anyone or…."

"You should pick Eric. Not that Eric, but this Eric." Rylan points to a card that simply reads Eric C, and his expression is oddly bored. "It's not who you're thinking. This Eric works with Quinten. He's a fantastic chef. In fact, I prefer when he cooks over Quinten."

"You're sure it's not…Eric?" I stare at him warily, trying to imagine Eric opening anything from me. "Because I don't think he'd appreciate me sending him anything, let alone a Valentine."

"It's not not Eric. The yhave the same name," Rylan's tone turns mildly defensive. "This Eric's name is Eric Coulton. The other is Eric Coulter. One has black hair, one had blond hair. It's very easy to tell them apart."

"Right." I touch the envelope, and a sense of hope washes over me.

I don't know this other Eric, but it would be nice to make a new friend. I have zero expectation that anything romantic will happen, but maybe something will. My imaginary future blossoms in my mind and it's oddly pleasing: I'm no longer living alone, eating alone, and working with someone who doesn't want me around. I'm happy. Content. Warm at night, and busy in my free time. Maybe we could even go the market, and we'd definitely get to eat dinner together. Even if we are just friends, it will be nice to have someone other than Four asking me how my day was.

"Okay, so I just take the envelope? Then what?" I reach for the one marked Eric C. while Rylan watches me like a hawk. "What kind of gift do I give them?"

"There's a list inside. You pick one from there. That way, they're guaranteed to like it," Christina explains. "We did it differently a few years ago and found that this works best. It's usually easy stuff. A gift certificate to get pierced, or maybe a request that you do the piercing. Zip lining. A trip to the Night Market."

"What's the Night Market?" I try to ignore the request that someone would want a stranger to pierce them in favor of hoping this Eric wants something I can buy in the shops. "What if I can't find what they want?"

"You'll be able to. Promise." Rylan answers confidently. "And if you can't, come find me and I'll help you. I know Eric quite well."

"Is he nice?" I don't know Quinten at all, so I wouldn't know if someone was working with him. "Is he –"

"Yeah, super nice." Christina cuts Rylan off as she plucks a card from the table. "And the Night Market is just the regular Market but at night. It feels different because it's dark out. They sometimes have different vendors and merchandise, there's outdoor restaurants, even performances depending on the day. It's worth a trip."

"Sounds fun." I start to open the envelope, but I stop when Eric walks by.

For some reason, I'm frozen in place.

Maybe it's our conversation from earlier, his request for my help, and the demand to keep quiet about it. Maybe it's seeing him slightly out of his uniform, his uniform jacket traded for a different, less official one, and his hair less slick than normal. Or maybe it's the way he turns as he passes the table, and his gaze goes right to me.

It no longer holds the smug, arrogant authority from our conversation, but a hint of curiosity. He drops his stare to my hands, clutching the envelope with a death grip, and I feel nauseous when he looks relieved.

I didn't choose him, and there's not a chance in hell he's going to choose me.

"So, do you think you'll do it? Or do you want to put the envelope back?"

Christina's wide-eyed stare finds mine. It's been a little over an hour since I got here and picked an envelope. I still haven't opened it yet. I felt like I should wait until I got home, and I wanted to read it alone. Since I didn't know too many people here, I took refuge in one of the booths with Christina and listened to her explain how the party worked.

I have to admit, I was intrigued.

According to her, this Valentine's exchange is an easy, low-pressure way to meet people. She promised everyone has a great time, and even if I didn't, I'd still make friends and get out for an evening.

"You should do it. Our group has doubled in size since we started. Almost everyone asks to be included next time." Christina continues, watching Rylan wave his arms around to demonstrate something to Jason. "I really hope you join us."

"Yeah, I'm excited. I've never done anything like this," I admit. "I'm a little nervous, but you said he's nice."

"So nice. He regularly makes Rylan pancakes even though it's not breakfast." She grins again, waving as Jason's girlfriend skips through the bar. "That's Meghan. Have you guys met yet?"

"Not officially."

Meghan is much taller than us, with long bright green hair. I've seen her around a few times, always busy, and always very dedicated to whatever she was working on. Now, she watches Jason for a moment, then shrieks when she realizes Rylan is trying to convince him to go outside.

"Oooh, I'd introduce you, but maybe not tonight. Rylan mentioned going on some hunt with Harrison, and I bet he's trying to get Jason to go. But he and Meghan probably had plans." Christina watches intently as Meghan shakes her head, then crosses her arms and sulks when Jason looks guilty. "Yeah, he's going. There goes her night. They're always gone for hours and they always come back with something weird."

"Do you know Harrison well?" I eat a few chips, sinking back against the booth. "I've never met him here. He used to come to Amity all the time, but I rarely see him in Dauntless."

"He's usually out of the faction. I don't think he actually enjoys being here. There's a rumor that he goes to Amity a lot, but no proof. Eric brought it up once, and according to Rylan, Harrison laughed and told him to fuck off. So…yeah."

Her expression is entertained, and I find myself grinning along with her.

"Have you met Kyle yet?"

Christina's words drift into the air as the bar continues to crowd, especially our area. There are tons of members I don't know stopping by to pick up envelopes, while others look on jealously. I try very hard not to look at Eric, now holding a comically pink envelope in his hands. The girl he's talking to keeps twirling her hair around her finger, he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. Their conversation ends when she reaches for his jacket. Her fingers skim the side before he knocks her hand away. His mouth presses into a fine line, and he stalks away with a glare in her direction.

Mortified, she glances around to see if anyone saw, and her red cheeks belie her forced, unbothered expression.

"Anyway, I'll tell you about Eric. I've met him three or four times now. He's really tall. Dark hair, lots of tattoos, really handsome. Last week, he was in Max's office and –"

Christina keeps talking about Eric, but it's hard to listen.

Across the bar, Eric stops by a table and rips open the envelope. He skims the paper with a look of disbelief, then jams it back inside. I watch intently, wondering who he picked. I didn't fill one out, and when I realize I didn't, my eyes widen.

"Christina –"

"Oh, and then he punched this guy in the Pit who said that Peter should be a Leader and…what?" She hesitates at the look on my face. "Are you okay? Is it the drinks? They're really strong here."

"No, I just realized my name was on one of the envelopes, but I didn't fill anything out!" I answer, feeling defeated. Across the bar, Eric looks at the ceiling as Peter approaches him, annoyed when he doesn't take a hint. "Won't my list be blank?"

"Relax, I filled it out for you. I figured you'd want to participate, so I just…did yours for you. I put what I thought you'd like. Since you're new here, I picked a dinner at one of the better restaurants, points to buy some new clothes since you seem to only have training clothes, and a trip to the Market where they buy you something. They always have cool stuff. Last time I was there, I found a bunch of bracelets from these girls in Amity. Actually, you might know them."

"Oh, good Thank you." Relieved that there's something in my envelope, I tear my stare away from Eric. I try to remind myself I shouldn't be watching him, and if he sees me, he'll assume I'm being a creep. "Thanks again. That was really nice."

"Anytime. And if you don't like what they get you, let me know. I'll make it right." She takes a large sip of her drink, then her stare swivels to me and she slides her phone across the table. "Here, let's swap numbers so I can text you."

"Sure."

I hand her my phone so she can put her number in it, and for once, I find myself pretty happy. This might not have been the meeting Four was thinking of, but it's even better. I've made a friend, I've been invited to hang out again, and I'll have made more friends by the time this is over. My social life will improve drastically by participating in this event, and with a little luck, I might become part of the group.

In my joy over bonding with someone who isn't fighting their way through the training, I completely miss the way the Lauren throws me a nasty glare, followed by the arrival of Harrison, bundled for the cold. He heads right toward her, and her glare changes to pure terror when he drags her away with a bark of irritation.

In the quiet of my apartment, I read the paper three times.

I pull my feet beneath me, seated atop my bed and surrounded by a pile of pillows and blankets, and read it a fourth time. The words blur before my eyes, until I think I've made a mistake.

I picked the wrong Eric.

From a gift standpoint, Eric Coulter would have been an easier choice. There is nothing tangible on this Eric's list, and nothing that I even know how to book. Eric's first request is a trip to a very specific restaurant in Erudite, with a very specific waiter, on a very specific date. The second is drinks at Clyde's, and depending on how well that goes, a walk through the woods in the dark. The third item is the hardest, and oddly worded: a night away from the faction, without any talk of what goes on in Dauntless. There's a notation at the bottom to avoid any and all discussion about the Dauntless faction, or his personal life, especially his work.

That one makes me blink.

"What exactly goes on in the kitchens?" I wonder aloud.

The list reads like whoever wrote it is extremely stressed out, since their only wish is to not talk about their job. I turn the paper over in my hands, examining the handwriting with a critical stare. It's very even. Neat, controlled lines, almost too professional. In Amity, the kitchen staff were always in a hurry, and everything was written hastily. No one's writing was ever this pristine, especially not those who cooked the food.

"How on Earth do I find any of these?"

I flip the paper over again, and this time, the requests mock me. Drinks at Clyde's would be the easiest, and I can walk down there and request a table. But I don't know when Eric would want to go, or what time works best. Walking through the woods in the dark gives me the chills, especially the area surrounding Dauntless. I know the woods by Amity well, but I still wouldn't walk to walk them at night. As for Erudite, I don't even know where the faction is, or how I'd get there.

Figuring I have some time, I put the list on the nightstand and decide to go to bed. Tomorrow, I'll investigate a little further. I can ask Christina about Clyde's, and maybe even Erudite. It also might be worth it to stop the Mess Hall and check out the kitchens. Not in an obvious way, but just enough to get a glimpse of Eric. Seeing him in person might give me an idea of who he is and make choosing a gift for him a little easier.

And the worst-case scenario is I ask Christina for help.

Satisfied with my plans, I climb under the covers and close my eyes. I drift off dreaming of a bright future, full of warmth, happiness, and the faintest, most imaginary image of this Eric.