Aberrant

Twelve: Dex

I am awoken by a mad rush. All around me people are panicking and shoving on Dauntless clothes . 

Sam, his glasses askew on his face, climbs up the ladder from the lower bunk, and taps me repeatedly on the shoulder. 

"Sam!" I protest, still half-asleep, "I'm awake, ok?"

"Come on!" he half-yells in panic, "It's 7:20!"

"And?" I ask, glaring at him grumpily. 

Sam stares at me like I've lost my mind, "We have to be in the training room at 8! We need to change and eat breakfast! With all the craziness that happened yesterday, I can't imagine what would happen if we were late!"

"Forty minutes is ages," I laugh, slowly pushing my duvet off me, "You should have seen how little time I got myself together in Amity."

"Fine," sighs Sam, "But don't expect us to wait for you. Me, Amy and Cass are heading to breakfast. We'll see you there, ok?"

"There or the training room," I mutter, but I'm talking to myself because Sam has whizzed off to join the others. 

It's 8:07 when I join the others in the training room, having decided to treat myself to a nice long shower and a cooked breakfast that was being served in the Dauntless Cafeteria. Amar doesn't say anything but gives me a long stare, which I return. He looks tempted to reprimand me but evidently decides not to waste time teaching a sixteen year old discipline. 

Instead he just gets on with the session. Today, he's showing us how to fire a gun.

There's something exciting about watching him fire-a thrill that I've never experienced before runs through me. This is why I chose Dauntless. It's everything that's not Amity. 

I take one of the guns eagerly and begin firing it at a target. I'm so excited; I feel like I'm breaking all the rules. But after some minutes, my excitement rapidly turns into frustration as every shot I fire misses the target.

Sam, on my right, snickers, "Amar probably gave you a faulty gun for being seven minutes late for training."

I scowl, "I had priorities, ok?"

He ignores me and says, "Either that or it's defying you because of your Amity heritage. I'm surprised the same thing isn't happening to Amy." Amy, surprisingly, has managed to hit the target at least 5 times.

"Shut it Sam." I mutter. I keep going for another few minutes, but then I let out a growl of frustration. It just isn't working.

"Can I help?" a quiet voice asks to my left. I look and see that it's the small Indian boy from Erudite who helped Amy on the rooftop.

"I don't need help," I growl back, feeling anger and frustration rise through me. 

He shrugs, and, as if I haven't said anything, shows me the way he's holding his gun, "I think you have to hold it like this. They way you're angling it sends the bullet into the wall."

I try out what he's said and it turns out he's right. I don't thank him; I didn't ask for his help in the first place, and I carry on shooting at the target.

He looks at me for a minute, and then says, "I'm Plato, by the way." And then he resumes shooting.

"Dex." I reply.

At lunch, Plato joins us at the table and I notice that he mainly eats carbohydrates and vegetables. 

"Do Erudite not have meatballs either?" I ask. Yesterday, Sam introduced Amy to a meatball as she'd never had one in Abnegation before. 

"No, they do," Plato smiles, almost shyly, "But I'm vegan."