Happy New Year!

The space around me is completely silent, spare for the sound of my heavy breathing and the buzzing of a broken light flickering above my head. The floor is hard against my spine and the coldness of it seeps into my skin and clutches my bones like a ghostly feeling of dread. I should probably go back to the dorms, but my head is a ball of lead and I cannot seem to lift it off the mat. My knuckles are bleeding from striking hard leather but the pain signals get lost somewhere on their way up to my brain. I don't blame them, I would avoid having to go up there, too.

It was when Christina and I went back to the dorm room for lights out that I began feeling agitated. I could not will myself to calm down, and I could feel my heart rate rise with each second that escaped me. I couldn't sleep—not when I was so frustrated.

A hurricane of emotion swept through me. Despair at the ignorance of my parents and how I wished they could have seen what was happening to me. Guilt for selfishly wishing Tobias hadn't left me alone in Abnegation. Disappointment in myself for being too weak to let go of my past. But most of all, anger at Caleb for making me the coward I wish I wasn't. A person who is still scared to death of the chains that no longer bind her.

After everyone was asleep I had quietly sneaked out of the dorms and carefully made my way to the training room. When I got there I spent the better part of the night beating the punching bag, throwing all of my frustration into every punch. My heart beat in my throat and a scream was trapped in my chest. I wanted him to hurt. I want him to hurt.

By the time I had exhausted myself the voices of the Dauntless outside the training room had long faded out, leading me to believe it was late in the night. And now as I lay on the dirty, sweat-stained mat I can't help but imagine what my childhood would have been like I had been a part of a normal family.

I see myself playing with Tobias at the park as a kid and Caleb joining in, all of us uncaring of the time we have left to be regular kids. Me and Caleb making funny faces at each other across the dinner table and getting scolded when we giggle. At Caleb's choosing ceremony, feeling relief as his blood dripped onto the grey stones instead of dread. At my choosing ceremony, smiling because I knew I wasn't going to let anybody down. It would have been perfect. Wetness trails from the corner of my eye into my hair.

I wonder what is going on in Abnegation right now. I can imagine the condolences being offered to my parents. Nobody would say it to their faces but they are all thinking the same thing. We're so sorry, you couldn't have known you had raised a traitor. No, they couldn't have. They did not notice much.

I want to be angry at them for their ignorance. I want to scream at them for refusing to see what I was going through, for turning away from my pleas for help. But I can't. It's not their fault that they were taught to stay out of other people's business. I never directly asked for help, and they never directly saw that I needed it. I lived in a place where all anybody did was help those in need, and I was too ashamed to ask for it. Because I'm a coward. A fraud and a coward.

I have been here, on the floor of the training room, for a decade. Staring at that flickering light and its inability to decide whether it wants to continue to shine or burn out, all the while being nothing but a flickering nuisance until it finally decides. Back in Abnegation, I had hope for a future brighter than the dullness and ignorance of the present. That maybe over the horizon there was an oasis I had yet to discover and the only way to get to it was to push my way ahead, damn everything behind me. I thought I could leave my past behind and move forward with my new life in Dauntless. But alas, every hope of mine was made in vain, for Dauntless is no oasis and my past is as present an issue as ever. Now, as I stare at that bothersome light, I cannot help but compare it to myself, an indecisive fool whose own too-high hopes left more damage than relief.

Five of the twenty lights are burnt out, I notice, staring at the cracked ceiling as my eyelids, two sacks of sand, start to sag. How many Dauntless does it take to screw in a light bulb? I think to myself. None, apparently, because nobody does it. I chuckle at my own joke and before I know it my eyes are closed and my body sinks into the mat as I fall asleep.

I jolt awake as I feel something hit my side and my head bounces off the hard ground. The ground? Why am I on the ground?

"Hey Stiff," a deep voice taunts directly above me. "You have to be in your dorm from lights out to when we come get you, as per the rules. I think I have to punish you." I squint up into the bright lights overhead and my eyes focus on a pile of piercings. That's right. I must have fallen asleep in the training room last night. God, I'm tired.

In my sleep-hazy state, my tongue is looser, so I'm slower to stop myself from snarking back at him. "You think? Shouldn't you know?" I ask, pulling my sore-from-sleeping-on-the-ground body up into a seated position. "One would expect disorganization from initiates, but leaders? Yikes."

Suddenly I am yanked up by the back of my neck so I am face to piercings with Eric. I forget about the pain when I see the expression on his face and I immediately regret opening my mouth. He looks unhappy.

A flash of movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention and my eyes involuntarily flick over. I get a glimpse of Tobias pulling a chalkboard out from behind a bunch of weights, trying to look like he wasn't paying attention before Eric pulls my face even closer to his. The look in his eyes reminds me of the dog in the aptitude test as if he were preparing to attack.

My breath catches in my chest and my excuse rushes out like vomit. "I just wanted to get some extra training in."

I hold my breath as I watch his eyes scan over my face hungrily like he wants to tear it off with nothing but his teeth. His eyes return to mine, staring intensely when the smallest, most creepy smile tugs at his lips. He hums under his breath and his tongue pokes out to fiddle with a ring through his bottom lip. "Well, in that case, you have nothing to worry about," he breathes out, his breath oddly smelling of a blueberry muffin. "I'll be sure to give you the training you deserve." He brings a hand up to my face and picks up a strand of uncombed hair before throwing it over my shoulder. He says apathetically "Have a shower, you look like shit," then shoves me toward the door with the hand still locked around the back of my neck and walks off toward Tobias. I can still feel my heart pounding in my chest even though he has moved away from me. Despite him not being much older than I am, he still gives me the willies.

I can feel eyes trailing me as I make my way to the door and I do not look back for fear that it is Eric. I walk faster and pull the door separating me from the Dauntless population open and slam it shut behind me before scurrying towards the dorm room.

Everybody is already up and changing when I step into the dorm room, much to my surprise. It's later in the day than I thought. A shirtless Peter standing in front of his bunk smiles at me and watches as I get closer to him. I narrow my eyes at him, feeling suspicion at his strange look. The closer I get to him the tenser I get, and I plead silently to be left alone as I try to focus my attention on Al who is standing behind him. "Say, I don't remember seeing you in your bunk last night." Dammit. He steps in my path, forcing my gaze to land on his naked chest and I look away fighting off a blush.

"How thoughtful of you to have noticed. I didn't know you cared so much about me."

He sucks in air through his teeth as he leans against the bunk opposite his and feigns remorse. "I make it my business to know who breaks the rules. They're in place for a reason, you know. Sounds like something a leader would like to hear about."

Molly, Peter's tank-like friend, slides into the space between Peter and me and adds overdramatically, "You're right, they would like to hear about that. I think you should tell them. Who knows what she'll do next? First, it's breaking curfew, next it'll be selling faction secrets."

I huff and try to push my way past them, fed up with their teasing. "Eric knows what I was doing. Go ahead and tell him what he already knows, I'm sure he'll love that."

"Wait, hold on just a minute." His hand splays out across my chest and pushes me so I'm once again in front of him, and I jerk back away from his touch."You were with Eric? What were you doing with Eric?" His face is stretched into a dumbfounded grin and his eyes are wide, staring at me like I accidentally revealed a secret.

"No way, I thought you were doing Four, not Eric," says Drew, who I just noticed was lying on the bunk above Peter's.

"You know what they say, the more the merrier." Molly snorts.

My eyes widen in horror and a deep disgust climbs up my throat when I think about what they are implying. Is that what they think of me? How dare they.

Just in time before I explode Will squeezes himself through the barricade they built in front of me, a calm yet stern expression on his face. He comes to stand beside me and places a hand on my crossed arms reassuringly before turning on the group of chuckling ex-Candors. In a stern voice to match his expression, he says on my behalf, "I'm sure she has a perfectly reasonable explanation. Though whether it's any of your business is still up for questioning."

All three of them tamp down their chuckles but their smug smiles remain. Will, though, doesn't seem thrilled at their carelessness. "This may surprise you, but some people are actually good enough to succeed without cheating. You should try it," he snaps, eyes narrowed. With that, he pulls my arms and leads me away from them.

I glimpse Peter glaring through Will's skull before I turn to face Will. "People think I'm 'doing' Four and Eric?" I force out through the lump lodged in my throat, built from my own mortification.

He pulls me over to where Christina and Al sat gathered, squeezing himself between the two on Christina's bunk. I stay standing. He picks up a pair of socks off of the bunk and slides them onto his feet, taking his sweet time to answer my question. "Well, I wouldn't say 'people', as in plural. I would say that they sure seem to think that," he says, much too slowly for my liking. As if the slower he speaks the less awful it will sound. "I mean as far as I know."

Disgust, fear and embarrassment battle for dominance in my stomach making my insides twist and nausea creep up my throat. I don't even want to think about that, let alone do it. How can anyone think this of me?

"Hey, hey," Will back-pedals after noticing my expression. "I don't think that. Christina and Al don't think that. And you know you would never do that, right? That's all that matters."

"Screw those guys for thinking like that. They're just trying to make you uncomfortable. To throw you off balance, or something," Christina adds dismissively as if their comments were nothing but a minor nuisance. Which they are, I guess, but that doesn't stop the blush from pinkening my cheeks or stub the want to crawl under my bunk and die at the thought of anyone picturing me naked with Tobias, or Eric, or anybody for that matter.

I grab the water bottle left on my nightstand from the night before and take a swig of it, leaning back on my bunk. My tongue is starting to stick to the roof of my mouth.

Will and Christina are already talking about something else, each absorbed completely in the other's presence, but Al keeps his eyes locked on me. I feel him scan me from head to toe and manage to hold back a shudder when a blush lights up his cheeks and he looks down at his hands. Feeling the need to cover up I sink down onto my bunk, but as I do my shirt stays stuck to the side of the top bunk, almost being pulled over my head before it peels off with a tearing sound. Bewildered, I lean out of the bunk to see, spray painted in big red capital letters, the word "STIFF" plastered across the side of my bunk. My eyes widen and I twist around to look at the back of my shirt and see big wet red streaks across the back.

"Oh, yeah, don't lean on that. They did it, like, seconds before you got in," Christina cringes.

"And you just watched them do it?" I demand, taken aback by such a childish prank.

"No!" Christina fires back, crossing her arms over her chest, clearing offended. "I told them to stop but I draw the line when someone aims a paint can at me. I'm trying to keep my showers here to a minimum until I can get to one with a door, and I would definitely need one if I had paint all over me."

With a sigh I fall face first into my pillow, wishing it were the thin, cardboard-like pillow back in Abnegation. Maybe I am unwelcome here. But it's not like I can leave, nor do I want to. I want to do well, and I'm not changing my mind because people can't act like adults.

I peek over at Christina and watch her attempt to wrangle her short black hair into the world's tiniest ponytail. I almost smile. Huffing, she pulls the tiny ponytail out, grumbling about how her hair always finds its way into her mouth. She un-squeezes herself from beside Will and stretches as she stands, announcing that she will be going to breakfast. Will stands up so quickly that his head bounces off the top bunk with a loud crack and he falls back onto the bunk, groaning and cursing and clutching his reddened forehead in his haste to follow her.

I snort, burying my face back in the pillow.

After they've left for breakfast I lift my head to make sure everyone is gone. Myra leaves after a minute or so and I'm alone, so I strip off my soiled shirt and throw on a new one before leaving for breakfast as well.

"Oh, shit," Christina says and turns to me, eyes wide in worry. "Of all people, you're fighting him."

We are both standing in the training room at the back of the group, behind the whiteboard Tobias dragged in this morning. Now, though, it is covered in our fight pairings. And I, as lucky as I am, am paired with Peter. Of all people, indeed.

Eric slaps his hand on the back of my neck, startling me from my dread. One look at his toothy smile and I know what he meant earlier by "give you the training you deserve". I shouldn't have snarked at him like that. Now I'm going to become a stain on the mat on my first day of fights, and prove to him and Peter and everyone else that they were right to think I don't belong here.

Drew and Edward go first. Then Myra and Christina. Unlike yesterday during practice when Christina fought Molly, she won. And she wasn't hanged from the railing of the chasm. Next is Al and Will.

"Are you alright?" I ask Christina when she rubs her jaw, right where Myra punched her.

"Yeah, she doesn't hit too hard. I almost feel bad for knocking her out." I didn't disagree, but Eric said to fight until he stops us.

Over on the mat Will and Al circle each other, neither one wanting to throw the first punch. I can see Eric's patience fading quickly and I will them to just hit each other. When they're still circling each other half a minute into the round, Eric's voice booms at them to stop being panties and get on with it.

I see a look exchange between the two boys before Will throws a punch. It hits Al square in the chin, and when he recovers he looks mildly surprised. I see Will's eyes fill with determination and I know that he will try as hard as he can to win.

Al shakes off the punch and seems to notice the renewed focus in Will, too. He picks back up his fighting stance and throws a wide, sloppy punch in return, which Will dodges. With Al thrown off balance from the momentum of his throw, Will pushes him to the ground, gets on top of him and socks him in the gut. Al, being larger and stronger, rolls over and pins him to the floor with his weight and throws all of his weight into swinging his fist into the side of his blonde head.

Will goes limp underneath him and his eyes widen, as do mine. He pushes himself up onto his knees and shakes him. One loud, dark laugh bursts out of Eric. Christina runs up to Will and grabs one of his arms. Al takes the other in a daze and they both carry him off towards the infirmary.

Now it's my turn.

My eyes follow my friends on their way out the door, avoiding the eyes of my new opponent for as long as I can. If I can't see you, maybe you can't see me.

"Stiff!" Eric shouts, and I reluctantly walk towards the mat, eyes glued to the floorboards. Deep breath in, exhale. I can do this, I have to do this. Come on, Tris, crush this arrogant prick.

I step onto the mat and force myself to look at Peter. He wears his lopsided smirk like a curtain obscuring sadistic intentions, but his gleaming eyes reveal his truth. He wants to make someone hurt. Correction: he wants to make me hurt. I can't let him, not while all of these people are watching and judging us. Not ever.

He is much less intimidating with his shirt on, and for that I am grateful.

"You okay there, Stiff?" Peter says. "You look like you're about to cry. I might go easy on you if you cry."

Over Peter's shoulder, I see Tobias leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest. We lock eyes and for a moment I see concern flash through his eyes. I can hear Eric's foot tapping rapidly on the floor with impatience.

Peter's face becomes obscured by his fists as he lowers into his fighting stance. He looks like an animal, ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey.

"Come on, Stiff," he says, his eyes glinting. "Just one little tear. Or are you trying to look tough in front of your boyfriend?"

His implication makes me want to gag, and in a moment of irritation, I kick him in the knee. Or I would have, if he hadn't shifted to the right making my leg swing into the air, knocking me off balance. I land on my butt and scramble to my feet as quickly as I had fallen. He can't kick me in the head if I'm on my feet.

"Stop playing with her," snaps Eric. "I don't have all day."

Peter's lopsided smirk disappears from his face and suddenly my head is snapping back with the force of his fist. I can feel my brain smack the back of my skull and my vision blurs. I didn't even see him raise his fist.

My ears start to ring and suddenly I'm with someone else. I can feel the presence of a memory forcing its way into the forefront of my mind. Time flows like ice as black transforms into grey and suddenly I can do nothing but stare in horror.

Then I tip.

A kick blows through my ribs, my stomach, my chin. I look up into green eyes, dark hair, and white snarling teeth. I reach out and pull as hard as I can on the first thing I feel. This isn't real this isn't real he isn't here this can't be real.

The floor shakes with the thud of a body dropping to the mat and I roll over and quickly straddle it. All of my weight packs into a punch aimed at his head but he smacks it off course with his forearm, making my upper body fall to his chest. He holds my fist away from me and cracks me in the head with his own head. The last thing I hear is an angry-sounding muffled shout before my vision darkens around the edges and I fall unconscious as he slams his head into mine once again.

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