Becoming Determinant - Tobias' Story

Divergent Chapter 8 - First Day of Training

"Divergent" Chapter 8 – First Day of Training

I'm in a foul mood when I wake up, my mind still filled with dreams of Eric torturing the initiates and making me watch. I shower quickly, letting the cold water bring me to full alertness, before I head to the training room.

Fortunately, Eric isn't there, and I'm able to avoid thinking about him as I set everything up for the morning session.

The initiates arrive in groups, having already formed preliminary friendships. Edward and Myra are first, and Edward looks at the guns with the same eagerness I saw in his eyes yesterday. Myra, on the other hand, watches him instead of the room, making me shake my head a little. It's clear that he's the one who chose Dauntless, and she followed because they're dating. That's a poor reason to attempt this faction, and it won't serve her well when she fails and he doesn't.

Peter, Molly, and Drew are next, talking in loud Candor voices. I glare at them to get them to quiet down, not because the volume actually matters right now but because I'm in no mood for their jabber.

The others arrive shortly behind them, all coming in at once. My eyes fall on Tris and stay there for a moment. She's swapped out her gray clothes for black ones, and for some reason, I find myself evaluating how she looks in that color. But I snap my eyes away soon afterwards, reminding myself sharply that she's just another initiate. It doesn't matter that we both came from the same place; we're here now, and I'm her instructor. And after Eric's behavior last night, I can't let myself forget that.

"The first thing you will learn today," I tell them firmly, "is how to shoot a gun." And I pick up two guns, handing them to the nearest initiates. "The second thing is how to win a fight." I move down the line, giving each initiate a gun as I continue with the first-day training spiel.

When I reach Tris, I press the weapon into her palm, knowing she might not take it otherwise. I still remember how strange it felt to hold one of these for the first time. But I push the comparison away, along with the odd charge of static I feel when my fingers brush her hand, and I make sure not to look at her. Eric isn't here now, but there's no point in letting bad habits creep in.

"We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice," I say, continuing with the talk that Amar gave last year, while I push thoughts of him out of my mind, too. It's not any more helpful to think about him than about Tris and Abnegation. Fortunately, I've spent a lot of time practicing this speech over the last few weeks, and the words rattle out with very little attention on my part.

I'm describing the three stages of training when Peter opens his Candor mouth. "But what…" he says through an enormous yawn. "What does firing a gun have to do with…bravery?"

The words strike me wrong. I'm not entirely sure why, honestly, except that he still somehow reminds me of Eric, and he's sleepily and stupidly questioning me while holding a dangerous weapon.

Before I even think about what I'm doing, I've flipped my gun around and have placed the barrel to his forehead. As I click a bullet into the chamber, I snap, "Wake. Up. You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it."

Peter freezes mid-yawn, his mouth hanging open, and I realize I have literally just scared a Candor speechless. A mix of satisfaction and regret passes through me, but I simply lower my weapon and resume walking while I respond.

"And to answer your question…you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself." The statement is a bit harsh, but it satisfies the surliness still doing its slow boil through me. I stop walking and turn towards the nearest target. "This is also information you may need later in stage one. So, watch me."