Duplicity [p.h]

chapter seven || i'm 18, a tech room associate of four's, and your biggest fan

EVEN AFTER A week, waking up to a smooth, white ceiling still took me by surprise.  I swatted at my alarm clock, blaring with urgency as if waking up a minute late would cost my head, until finally I blindly unplugged the damn siren from the wall. Groaning, I pulled my pillow over my eyes to block the light bleeding in from the windows and swaddled myself further in the blue bedsheets that felt more like a cloud against my skin than linen. 6:00 a.m. wake ups had never been this difficult, but I supposed that was to be expected when I couldn't even get a wink of sleep during the night.

At first, I blamed it on the unfamiliarity of my surroundings.  The first few nights at Dauntless had been rough too, I told myself, but perhaps that was because of other things and people I didn't want to think about. But as the days passed, I thought maybe it was the fact that my quarters never seemed like they were really mine, even though it was identical to my old room. My pillow never started to smell like my shampoo, my walls were offsettingly bare, and I felt like I was completely alone.  That's what I settled on as the root of my insomnia, even though I think I knew deep down it was something else. But I would never admit that out loud.

And so, like every morning that had passed so far, I wrestled myself out of bed, into my clothes, and out of the door.

Tori was already waiting for me in the hallway, with two other former-Dauntless keeping her company.  The first, I recognized easily as Verity, the infirmary nurse with streaks of grey in her blonde locks and an unwavering kind smile. The second, I had never met before. He was what I thought to be the perfect Dauntless stereotype; he was much taller than me and definitely more muscular too, with streams of black ink that flowed along his arms and a confident aura that I could only hope to possess.

"I see you took your time," Tori laughed. "I get it. Took me forever to adjust. It's been years, a decade, even, since I woke up this early."

All I could manage was a grunt.

"No talkie talkie until after you eat some food, I suppose. Probably a good idea. Let's go get some breakfast."

Even half asleep, I managed to get myself to the cafeteria even if I was relying on the other three to navigate. Only a little bit though, I promise. I tagged along a few steps behind them, half-listening to their idle chatter (because obviously, it wasn't safe to discuss anything out in the open) until I found myself sitting on a chair with astoundingly good back support and chewing on what I think was a bite of egg.

"Feeling better?"  My eyes finally felt like they were focused, my brain finally losing the static fuzz of underripe consciousness.

"Much," I replied to Verity. "I can form coherent thoughts now."

"Good," Tori chuckled, "good.  Now why don't we start with some introductions?  You know me, obviously.  This is Verity," she said, gesturing to the woman across from us. "She was an infirmary nurse. She's the best with stitches."

I held up my hand, still marred with the pink scar that served as a memory of the trauma — both physical and emotional — courtesy of a knife and a bullet wound. "Don't I know it. We've met."

"Then I guess it's just me," the other Dauntless piped up. "My name's Zeke. I'm 18, a tech room associate of Four's, and your biggest fan.  It's nice to finally meet you, Jax." I squinted at him. How would he have ever heard of me?

As if he could hear my thoughts, Zeke responded: "I came to watch the Fear Landscape simulations this year, for my brother. Yours was pretty spectacular, not to mention the whole 'I like you' thing. You and Pedro get together yet?"

Zeke's cheeky smirk only grew as I threw my head on my hands, grumbling obscenities at the tidal wave of embarrassment that ambushed me every time the incident was brought up. "Thank you, I think. And yeah, I mean, Peter — that's his name — we, uh, we're... we're... mmph."