I find Eric in the canteen. He gives me an annoyed expression, eyes narrowing at me as I approach him sitting comfortably with Gabriel, Henry, and Sean in the scarcely crowded cafeteria.
"Gene!" Gabriel admonishes, I turn back to his voice as he stands. His ankle seems to be fairing better. "We were just talking about you." He pats an unoccupied space beside him and Sean.
I shoot Eric a questioning, un-amused glance and his expression seems to improve slightly, no doubt he's acquired more unimportant information to brandish at his leisure.
Or he's eaten.
His face becomes mockingly innocent with his brows raised, he holds his hands up as if to say he, in no way domineered the topic but the smug toothy smile betrays him.
"You never told me how proficient you are in throwing knives." Eric chastises, before standing. It's apparent he means for me to join them as he places a hand to my lower back.
"Genie ain't got nothing on me though." Gabriel gloats, pointing a thumb at himself, puffing his chest out. "Best of the bunch."
"Eric wasn't there that time when we… Were complete assholes." Sean says to me before swallowing thickly as though trying to explain the reasoning to their topic of discussion. "We were just talking about how we sorta met."
I slide into the seat Eric just vacated, and he moves in afterwards pushing me over with his hip till I sit directly between him and Henry while Sean decides to regale them of that rainy day.
From the moment they entered the training room, almost fighting, and Amar pouring water over Mia, using the word 'hilarious.'
It was hardly as eventful as he makes it out to be.
I soften my features to something less of a glare, but more of a tired, bored stare and I vaguely wonder when the others might come in, or what they are doing at the moment.
The chatter and ambient noises of other cafeteria goers become faint background noise, hollow and faraway in my ears.
Forks scraping against plates, clatter of cups, the shuffling and clomping of boots on concrete. I pinch the metal zipper of the jacket between my fingers, running them back and forth over the jagged edges under the table while listening, more or less.
"She was the only one to get sick." Gabriel laughs after Sean finishes his re-telling of the outdoor run in the torrential rain. "You were all like 'ugh'."
He makes gagging noises in jest, and I press my elbows into the table, resting my chin on my hands.
"I literally dragged her ass to the lounge."
"I remember." I admit with a nod and I tense at the hand on my thigh under the tables surface.
"I remember that being one of our first actual conversations." Eric says thoughtfully, I glance at him to see his head cocked to the side, propped up by his fist. "You mentioned you weren't feeling very well… I now know exactly why." His mouth curls into a smile. "All because of a little rain."
As always he plays precariously on the obliviousness of others. I do however vaguely remember how recluse Eric had been, the change is harshly apparent now that I deliberate it.
For one we hardly exchanged more than a few words that day, or on any occasion before that.
"That was our first time playing Dare." Henry says with a proud smile, he runs a hand through his dark locks. "And I have got to tell you… It is way different from any of the games we played back in Candor."
"Fuck yeah." Sean agrees with enthusiastic fervor and they explain a game they call 'spin the bottle' despite the uninterested stares they receive from the latter.
In their game they literally spin a bottle and either kiss each other or- I don't hear most of the specifics as I stopped listening when he said kiss.
Gabriel motions with his hand, the sign for babbling incessantly, rolling his eyes and Eric looks positively bored, his pointer tapping my leg idly.
"That sounds fun and all, but, we don't play sissy Candor games in Dauntless." Gabriel admonishes with bravado. "Spinning an empty bottle? Pssh, give me a full bottle and I'll spill my soul or kiss any girl, boy, woman, man, animal you point me at." He jokes raucously. "Pray they kiss me back !"
Those within vicinity of his vulgar declaration laugh, including Eric and I press my palms into my eyes gritting my teeth when he moves his hand higher up my thigh, tracing his fingers along the inner seam of my pants.
"Eric." I admonish under my breath.
"Your friends are entertaining, I can see why you'd get attached to them." Eric comments leaning closer, it's a harmless enough statement that no one seems to construe as odd coming from him but it is extremely imperious.
"We grew up together." Gabriel says gesturing between us enthusiastically, as if eager to make the distinction of how long he's known me in comparison. "Dauntless born! From diapers to death-" Someone yells Dauntfest somewhere and people begin pounding tables with fists or rattling their cups. Chanting. "Daunt-Fest! Daunt-Fest!"
The occupants at our table join in as well, their voices permeate the air clear and loud.
Sean seems to be well versed in Dauntfest now.
I take that opportunity to inconspicuously wrench Eric's hand off my leg before he can continue its trek precariously higher.
He grips that hand, tightly, squeezing my fingers between his and places them intertwined on the table.
I keep myself from clawing my nails into his skin in retaliation, his behavior is becoming much more forceful, and brazen, trying for a physical confrontation even in public.
"Don't take offense but…" Henry says lowly when it quiets down, I give him my full attention, turning to him, angling away from Eric. "I was told you didn't do… Boyfriends… relationships I mean, not that you like girls…" He laughs nervously before adverting his gaze.
I sigh and shake my head. Still Candor.
Gabriel uses obscene gestures to communicate with someone across the room and I become even less interested in remaining seated here, or in the conversation and the company when that draws attention to us.
"Obviously you heard wrong, Henry. She does her boyfriend frequently." Eric proclaims casually, bringing my hand to his mouth, he presses his lips against my knuckles exhaling contentedly as though he did not just imply something so abhorrently licentious and false.
Henry's face becomes openly bewildered as he blushes profusely, and despite myself I dig my nails into the back of Eric's hand, he responds by pinching the skin of my knuckles between his teeth and grazing his leg against mine, to which I cross over my other to avoid using it.
"Eric." Interrupts a stern voice, with a hand to Eric's shoulder, claiming both our attentions. It's Paul, one of the alternative leadership candidates. "We've got a 'meeting' to go to, Fal asked me to come fetch you." He informs before nodding to me in greeting.
Eric frowns at him and releases me before standing. My attendance isn't required.
"I left you a gift." He says with a taunting smirk before leaning in, his hand pressed to the table in front of me, expectantly, waiting. Raising his brow as if adding emphasis.
It's so insufferably pompous. His eyes narrow marginally as I slide a hand over the tattoos of his neck, till my fingertips reach his hairline, and my thumb brushes his earlobe.
I bring my face closer to his and he chuckles darkly when I place my mouth against the sharp stubble of his jaw.
"You guys are so cute." Gabriel quips sarcastically with gagging noises.
It's only 6:35 P.M.
I check the time when I reach the elevators and punch the button for the fourth floor of Dauntless and follow the signs that lead to the control room.
The doors are wide open and I'm greeted first by the scarce number of personnel working, less than 4 people sitting behind the row of bright screens with headphones secure over their ears.
Then I'm greeted by the smell of stale cigarette smoke and alcohol, as well as the sight of Gus slumped over his keyboard his head in his arms, folded as a pillow. His screen has a dialog box open with random numbers and letters typed in.
He had fallen asleep and accidentally pressed keys. I contemplate waking him as a stream of X's and Z's continue to appear.
"Genie!" Zeke bellows, the others shoot scolding glares at him and he laughs, covering his mouth. "I thought you quit?" He whispers, but despite lowering his voice, he is naturally too loud.
I shrug in response and pull a chair over to the empty console next to him, and I accept his invitation to hang out with him and Shauna after he's done with his shift in less than 30 minutes.
It's harmless enough. He wheels over to another Dauntless who I don't identify and I work over to call up live security footage of Dauntless' scarcely used conference room.
Then I type in the command to take the footage out of rotation and unplug Zeke's neglected earphones from his monitor to listen to mine.
Max and Falen sit in wheeling chairs, both look authoritative despite how Max turns and ceases to remain still. Directly across from them sit the remaining leadership candidates, including the instructors for initiations and several of the depot handlers.
"What's going on there?" Zeke asks, wheeling his chair back next to me. I sigh deeply, and flip one headphone earpiece outwards and motion for him to listen in, he presses his ear against it and I turn the volume up with the dial on the side of the monitor.
They debate over the new initiation process and the new rules to be implemented in the coming year, currency, point and provisional limitations, increased patrol on the fence and other important items.
Falen and Max listen to complaints and concerns, directly addressing them one by one.
"Is it alright to be listening to this?" Zeke whispers harshly he pulls away and glances at Gus but even if Gus were attentive he wouldn't bat an eyelash.
The meeting is harmless, rules that are implemented are made known in time to all Dauntless, civilians and otherwise, even the new initiation process will be.
The timing around Dauntfest is in hopes they would be recieved better, when everyone is in higer spirits.
It's not a secret meeting. "Four would tell you anyway." I comment flatly.
My eyes find Four and immediately notice his discomfort.
Amar sits relaxed, next to him and nods his head along with someone's input on changing the currency limitation to a stricter monitoring, on budget and spending for each person.
Bud and Tori stand leaned against the wall observing silently as well, as they run the tattoo parlor together.
Eric sits closer to the leaders completely at ease, a smug almost triumphant look on his face.
Zeke shrugs and presses his ear back to the inverted head piece to continue listening as they go through each topic.
Occasionally he makes rude comments on someone's appearance and jokes about Four's stiffness. Several of them do appear to be inebriated, Dauntfest.
When they talk about the new initiation process Zeke becomes flabbergasted. More than half approve and I strain my ears to listen, ignoring Zeke voicing his own concerns and his obvious disapproval.
Those that disagree include Amar, Four, a female leadership candidate Candice, and Warren the Dauntless-born instructor, everyone else just observes. They each argue and Falen listen's intently whereas, Max lights a cigar and props his boots on the conference desk.
It's already been decided.
Falen interrupts Warren from complaining about how much more of an unfair advantage Dauntless-born initiates would have over transfers, to ask Four how he feels about it, as he's in training and it will be his first year instructing.
He hasn't spoken once since I started watching, and his expression is grim.
"One of our earlier lessons in leadership explained the initiation processes throughout the years… And this new one-" Zeke quiets down to listen with me, as Four confesses his concerns about the new process not aligning with Dauntless manifesto and how he feels along with Warren that it is straying farther away from the original purpose, of inspiring acts of bravery and protecting the weak.
"Honestly, the thought of instructing and teaching transfers true bravery and standing up for the weak seems almost impossible if they're expected to compete against each other." Four admits.
There are several murmurs of agreement. He's right, the strong would attempt to eliminate the weak to secure a spot in the limited availability.
Relationships based on security instead of camaraderie would form and easily broken between transfers.
The threat of faction-less would be more of a motivation over their enthusiasm for Dauntless.
I remove the headphones, there is no need to listen further after Falen explains that it isn't necessarily a permanent change, and it can always be reverted or altered based on its success or failure.
Exactly like I thought and no one argues that because they all expect it to fail.
Zeke and I lean back in our chairs. "Wow, that's pretty nuts…" He says kicking back over to the corner of the room, he reaches from his chair to the locker where they store personal belongings before a shift, and rolls back over to me carrying a large glass bottle filled with some sort of brown liquid, holding it by the neck.
"This calls for some heavy drinking." He shakes the bottle at me with a wide grin on his face. "Dauntfest. Hoorah!"
I check my watch 7:20 P.M. I'd like a drink.
I lay my head back and close my eyes, pressing my palms into the cold stone of the narrow ledge.
It's off-limits to individuals not in chasm maintenance to be down here but apparently Zeke's past date Maria, whose mother works in chasm maintenance had shown them this area a while back and they now frequent it.
We are on the other side of the chasm several feet above the water and in the distance the small dark figures milling around the railings are hardly distinguishable.
On a regular work shift we would have tall scraping tools to clean the gunk and trash that build up down here, along the walls and in the dark murky water. Sometimes discarded clothing, even food, or empty bottles like small boats float and bob along as though setting out on a journey.
Other times, bodies. And depending on how long they've bobbed and floated in the water they would be engorged and swollen with it.
But as this is a recreational visit it is just us, their alcohol and the ambient noise of rocking waves and lapping water.
Shauna and I sit shoulder to shoulder with our feet dangling off the edge and I feel the spray against my ankles as a larger wave hits the wall below us, our boots discarded at the door and pants rolled up to our knees.
Each wave is like cold hands reaching for us, the spray of their frigid fingers just brushing our dangling feet before receding back again, rendering us not untouchable but just close enough to remind us that we aren't.
It feels wrong to intrude on their casual group, and I wouldn't normally, even my unusual behavior wouldn't consist of this but Zeke insisted fervently that I come along, and had I known exactly where they intended on 'hanging out' I probably would've been more adamant in my refusal.
Suddenly indulging feels traitorous. I'm hesitant, reluctant, maybe even more so here. I recognize a tightness in my throat and I swallow thickly.
I'm growing accustomed to noticing them and the stresses on ny subconscious. The triggers, that produce physical responses, the more I do, the more effectively they can be ignored before Eric notices them.
"It's nice down here." Shauna says handing the bottle off to Four, who lowers himself carefully onto a rock below the ledge, Zeke follows behind and they sit as close to the water as they dare without being submerged.
"Yeah." Four agrees before drinking deeply, he stares with dark, tired eyes at the ripples reflecting flickering lights from the bulbs strung along the edges of the chasm, where the lights are wrapped around the railings.
It seems oddly macabre from here.
The decoration illuminates the dreary abyss, like guiding lights tossing and dancing over the depths far below.
"Consider this act of drunkenness a big-" Zeke makes an obscene gesture towards the higher levels far above us. "You know, to the leaders and Eric." He says, but he turns to face me directly. "No offense." He laughs.
I wave my hand dismissively.
They have every right and are entitled to their own expressions, and I'm not oblivious to the how the new rules would affect them personally, and myself included.
Plus I'm not unused to gossip and 'shit talking.' This is supposed to be the norm.
"Seriously though, Gene… Eric?" Shauna asks me with severe disdain in her voice, and she elbows me in the shoulder. "Of all the guys, Eric?"
"It's complicated." I sigh exasperatedly, it's a harmless and benign enough confession and a rather glaringly true one at that.
"Boys." Shauna admonishes in agreement before handing me the bottle that Zeke had given her. "They make everything complicated."
I grasp it around the neck, wrapping my fingers around the narrow glass and take a deep gulp of the bitter amber liquid before wiping my mouth on the back of my hand and nod my head blankly, agreeing but not completely and take another smaller sip of the burning, stinging alcohol to wash down the other more putrid taste in my mouth before handing it back.
Shauna begins complaining about boys and their lack of brains where it counts and how women don't need men in their lives and that they should be grateful for our existence.
I'm grateful that the topic shifted to her ranting, although, I don't feel the same way. It's obvious she's speaking solely from personal experience on the grievances of a boy.
"I mean behind every great man is an even greater woman." Shauna declares firmly. "And they should respect us."
"That's why girls are the scariest fucking things alive." Zeke laughs, and slips, Four catches his arm before he can fall into the water but he nearly takes them both in. A fall from this height is harmless, they would just become thoroughly soaked and uncomfortable. "Cause you know. . .they can stab you in the back?"
Four shakes his head but a smile plays on his lips as Zeke and Shauna begin bickering on whether men or women are the more threatening sex, based on past transgressions and the way men have 'attention spans as far as you can throw them' or how women 'hold grudges over the smallest things like saying hi to another girl'.
The normalcy is soothing despite the trivial opinionated argument. Though I am learning some things.
I let it fade in and out of my ears and rest my head back against the wall, closing my eyes against the glittering lights to focus only on the sounds of water lapping lazily against stone walls. I place my hand over my cheek, noticing the elevated temperature of my skin.
"Ugh, whatever, shut up." Shauna admonishes pushing Zeke's arm off her leg, he laughs like he's won their argument although I'm unsure of where it concluded.
"Gene what do you even talk about with Eric ? I can't even imagine you talking…To someone like him. I didn't even hear how you guys met."
"He does most of the talking." I reply truthfully with a sigh. "We became aquainted during volunteering-"
"What does he talk about?" Zeke asks curiously.
Four raises his brow at me, he's been unusually silent but, I suppose after that meeting he must be in a less than celebratory mood.
Shauna leans forward, interested and I shrug, realizing that he never really says anything conversational just vague. "His. . .Interests, I guess."
"You know he doesn't like Four right?… Oh-shit, we should probably not tell him that you were with us." Zeke says suddenly distracted he glances around as though there is a possibility of getting caught.
I already know there is no surveillance in this area. I wave my hand dismissively again before accepting the bottle once more.
8:47 P.M.
The lounge is crowded, much so that the ground vibrates with boots shuffling over it. It's darker than usual tonight with soft ambient pulsing noises and loud chattering. Cups clanking, people laughing, the scent of excitement and alcohol, perfume the air heavily.
There is little space between bodies and I wonder why they decided to hang out here, it doesn't seem appealing in the least.
"Gene, where have you been!?" Kat asks with a bewildered tone as I slide into their booth after Zeke and Four had split so as to appear un-associated with us.
I wave and shrug. "I was with Shauna."
The others including her seem to be inebriated already, but Kat frowns, without pressing the matter further as Shauna tells her it was a secret hang-out.
Ash and Jade very naturally try to include me in their conversation about make-up, although I don't wear any but I notice now, that everyone looks very flashy tonight, wearing new piercings and multicolored hair.
I'm uncertain of the occasion for it, other than Dauntfest, of course.
Kat hands me a beverage, and I listen to her complaints about my lack of attentiveness to them and my constant absence.
I've been distracted. By Eric.
"I know." I sigh and she accepts my apologetic frown, before draping her arm over my shoulder to pull me tightly against her side.
My eyes travel around the room with the cold glass bottle against my cheek. I feel hot, suffocated, and I swallow thickly several times to get the acrid taste from my mouth,
I'd rather not be here. That is apparent. I find people around me, faces in the crowd.
Tori and Bud near the bar area just barely visible through the cacophony of movement, Amar bobbing around stealing fruit or sweets out of elaborate drinks and even Deidre without the usual babble of children around her.
Younger Dauntless and older Dauntless mingling, bickering, engaging in endless types of social conventions around me, naturally.
I used to enjoy them, this, used to have even some modicum of humor. Maybe I should remember- or relearn, basic social skills, or at least attempt them better.
It's becoming slightly difficult engaging them, when my mind and insides are occupying themselves with one thing and my body another.
I take a deep breath and lay my head back against Kat's arm and place the bottle on the table, resting my hand next to it with my fingers tracing the drops of precipitation on the glass surface.
Lynn perches herself on the backrest of the circular booth seating, across from me, throwing peanuts. They ricochet off jackets or land in hair, or the idle drinks of unsuspecting hands.
Marlene giggles and claps at her feats, pointing out targets. Ash leans over the side to converse with those in the booth adjacent to ours, talking about trivial things, everyday happenings in Dauntless. I catch mentions of the recent drama, couples, and fights.
Nothing has really changed around me. It's all the same. I am the one who is different. Seeing it through new eyes.
Resentment.
"You getting sick again?" Kat laughs, she pinches my cheek and pulls my face, I wave her hand away distractedly. "It's like you get sick every time you go outside."
I move my head side to side like she's not completely wrong then I press my elbows into the table and palm my slightly clammy forehead, closing my eyes, to stop seeing.
The dark pulsating lights are making my head throb.
Jade hushes Kat, making rude remarks about Eric -assuming he's what's bothering me- to comment on my paleness, reclaiming my attention.
I swallow thickly and shake my head, offering an 'I'm fine' before twisting the lid off the drink to take a sip, but it's more of an idle motion in reaction to their unwanted concerns.
The fizzy soda bubbles over my tongue, crackling down my throat and my cheeks feel heated. I check the time. It feels as though it is crawling.
10PM on the dot.
"You know, I think the guys wanted to try out some game." Kat suggests, steering the conversation away, the others all express excitement over the idea, that elicits giggles and the like.
Jade already suspects the 'Candor bottle spinning game' and they all prepare to leave while she explains it to them, the mention of Sean brings a blush to her cheeks.
I sigh before standing with them, sure to bring my beverage and I file out behind them with every intention of going back to my apartment.
I've no interest in playing a game of that sort and I'm actually uncertain where Eric is currently or what mood he's in, or even how I intend to leave Dauntless in several hours.
"Maybe you should go lie down or something." Kat says, stopping me with her arm extended out.
I agree and she laughs before placing her hand to my cheek briefly, I flinch like she's slapped me, I can feel her pulse beneath her skin, almost as cold as the bottle on the side of my face.
When she removes it, it feels like it's still there and she comments on my temperature being slightly higher than normal.
"Get lots of rest! No playing with Eric tonight." Kat reprimands, with a tsk, noise and a finger wave.
Jade mentions that the game is for singles only anyway, and Lynn nudges me with her elbow, before imploring me to remember what color my puke is and tell her tomorrow at breakfast.
I must look worse than I thought.
After the parting 'good nights' and 'see you tomorrows', they turn off to head towards the Pit in search of the guys and I start in the opposite direction going down the hall.
By now Eric will have stewed for hours. He would have found my tools, deduced what kind of task the leaders have given me, and set for ways to inconvenience me.
The confrontation imminent.
I stop at a drinking fountain and tuck the bottle under my arm to wash my hands, cupping the water, letting it pool in my palm and overflow between my fingers, I close my eyes to the sensation, of being unable to hold everything within them, especially something that isn't solid.
There really isn't anything there though, except liquids. I try to ignore and repress the invading thought on the process of turning a liquid to a solid. The molecules that slow down and fix -
I touch the side of my cheek and shut my eyes tighter, the word. 'Choose.' a hollow echo in my skull that is only in my head, but it permeates the air as though it's being spoken aloud.
I'd been told to choose once before, and I had.
What a strange thing to remember at a time like this. The patter of raindrops against concrete, asphalt and the fabric of my jacket sound faintly in my ears softer than a heart beat.
The feel of cold metal with my hand curled around it, and a cold breath in my lungs, escaping between my lips slow and even to the rise and fall of my chest.
A slap ringing loud and harsh, much, louder than the sound of a single gunshot piercing my consciousness.
I blink once. Flinching. Still in front of the drinking fountain, and I blink several more times, dazed. Till I refocus my surroundings.
Maybe I've drank a little too much.
I release the cold metal, rim of the fountain bowl and curl my slightly numb fingers before running them through my hair, letting out another deep breath.