Divergent: A Retelling

Fight or be Beaten

We get back to the dormitory. We walk in and the other transfers are either talking or changing. I blush. I'm not used to everyone yet. I smile as people compliment my tattoo as I pass by.

I sit down on my bed. Peter sits on his bed across from me, admiring his new tattoo. "When did you get that?" I ask curiously. "Same as you." He says, looking up. "Are you sure about that?" He asks, nodding my medusa

"I mean," He clicks his tongue "seems pretty drastic for an Amity transfer." "Shut up, Peter." I say, taking off my boots. "Hey, you brought it up," He says with a shrug. "To be nice." I mutter, pulling off my shirt and grab my night shirt. "Why would you wanna be nice to me?"

Asks Peter nonchalantly. I turn to look at him, eyebrow raised. I can't tell if he's being serious or mocking me. "Because I was raised Amity." I say, pulling on my shirt and taking off my pants and climbing into bed. I turn my back to him and close my eyes.

"There is an even number of you, so you will all be fighting today."

Says Four. It's the next day in the training room, and my muscles are sore from the day before. My cut already feels better, and they've seemed to replace the old punching bags with new ones.

Four steps away from the board with our names on it, and I look at my name. Next to it is Tris's. That means I have to fight Tris. I feel guilty for thinking this, but I can take her down easily. It's not her fault. She was born and raised in Abnegation. She couldn't build any muscle. Beside me, Tris sighs. "I think we both know who'll win." She says, looking at me. "Oh stop. You have a chance." She shrugs. "This is not good."

Says Christina, walking up to us. "Look. I'm up against the Tank." I know exactly who she's talking about. Molly. "The Tank?" Asks Tris, looking at Christina's name. "Yeah, Peter's slightly more feminine looking minion."

I laugh because it's true. I fold my arms and my biceps groan in protest.

I look over to where Peter, Molly and Drew - Peter's other minion - are standing. Molly is about as tall as Al. A towering six feet, three inches.

"Those three have practically been inseparable since the womb. I hate them." Says Christina. "Me too." I say. Having gone to school with them my whole life, I know exactly who they are. Will and Al stand on the platform against each other. They put their hands up by their faces to protect them, just like Four taught us. Al is a good half a foot taller than Will and twice as Broad. This fight won't last long. "What's wrong with them?" Asks Tris next to me. I look over at her, confused until I see she's talking about Peter, Molly and Drew. "Peter's evil." I say, before Christina can respond. "When we were in school, he'd always steal my books and hide them in random places."

I say, remembering when he was doing that just last week.

"And Drew is so dependent on everyone." Says Christina. "I doubt he has an independent thought in his brain." I smirk

"And Molly's the type of person that would fry an ant with a magnifying glass just to see it flail." I nod along. I look up at the platform just to see Al punch Will straight in the jaw. Christina and I groan, and Tris winces. Will stumbles to the side, clutching his jaw; but he manages to block Al's next punch with his free hand. Judging by his grimace of pain, I'd say blocking a punch hurts just as much as taking one. Al may be slow, but damn, he's powerful. "I think they know we're talking about them."

Says Tris. I look over and see that Molly, Drew and Peter are all talking in low voices with each other. "So? They already know I hate them." "How?" Asks Tris. I look up and see Will lock one of his feet behind Al's leg and yank forward, sending Al crashing to the ground. He gets up quickly