Holding On||Peter Hayes (Divergent)

Chapter 8

Four's team won capture the flag that day. It was Christina who claimed the flag however without Tris' tactics we would have never been victorious. Uriah and Marlene finally met Tris that day, complimenting her strategy.

My knife hits the target in the middle everytime I throw it. Knife throwing is my specialty. My mum used to teach me how to throw knives when I was about eight, and my skill had improved over these past few years. Soon enough, I was violently throwing knives at the target board, each and everyone of them piercing the middle. Lauren walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "Good job, Piper. Keep it up and you'll have your name at the top of the stage one initiation."

On my way to lunch, a hand dragged me into the stone wall. I yelled as I felt the hard stone dig into my back and a pair of hands pushed me into the wall. Jack. "What is it with you?"

"What are you on about?" I try to wriggle free from the boy's grasp, but he holds me firmly against the wall.

"You being at the top of stage one? As if I'll ever let that happen, you'll see. I'm having that do over..." Jack sneered into my ear.

"Piper!" AJ yelled from down the tunnel. I push Jack away from me and run to my twin, smiling at him. "P, what did Jack want?"

"Nothing. Come, let's go eat."

***

My bruised hands pounded at the punching bag. Tomorrow is the last set of fights, and I have to win. Any free time was spent in the training rooms practising different fighting techniques. Blood from my split knuckles splattered upon the orange leather. My knuckles were bleeding freely, trailing down the back of my hands and dripping onto the floor.

"Jones?" Peter called from behind. Rolling my eyes, I pivoted on the spot to face the boy.

"What do you want now?" I said exasperatedly.

"I was gonna ask if you were coming down for dinner as I didn't see you down in the cafeteria," Peter uttered, "and I realise you always beat yourself up in here and I thought maybe I should check up on you."

"Do enlighten me on why I need your supervision?" I asked, walking up to Peter with my arms folded.

"You're too serious about this -"

I cut Peter off. "And that's a bad thing?"

"No, it's just that you're way too serious and you then you have that twat who's always after you. What's his name, Zack?"

"Jack." I corrected, running a hand through my hair.

"Yeah, and - what the hell happened to your hands?" Peter softly took my tiny hand in his large one, examining it. "You've been training with hands like these?"

I avoided looking into the boy's eyes. Why does he care so much? It's not like I've ever been nice to me and he hasn't exactly been to pleasant back. Plus, Peter isn't the sweetest initiate around, so I must be pretty special for him to actually care for my wellbeing. "Yeah, I have," I confessed. "But it's not that bad, it doesn't hurt that much - or at all."

"Piper, your hands are awful. You gotta rest or you're gonna drain yourself if you don't sit down," Peter advised me.

"Peter, listen, I'm fine. You don't need to tell me what to do. I appreciate it, really, but you've got other things to worry about." I told the boy. He sucked in a deep breath, exhaling heavily.