Choose Your Own Adventure: Divergent

Dinner- 5

Someone rings the bell, and your head jerks up. Emery jumps to his feet. 

"Dinner," he says, raising his eyebrows. "Race you-"

You're already shoving past him and sliding down the ladder, secured to the open cinderblock-style housing with metal rods. You can hear it quiver as factionless crawl down it, whooping and filling the air with (mostly) good-natured chatter.

You jump off the ladder and onto the concrete floor of the warehouse, the dying light of the day filtering through the colored glass above you. The light patches where it's broken spot the floor, and you can see kids jumping around in them, their laughter rising above the talking.

You hurry to the edge of the warehouse, a few broken tables propped up. A woman's ringing the bell, talking loudly over her shoulder to a man behind her, wearing a leather holster. Behind him are the Scavengers, the people in charge of finding our food. They're all adults, and it's a dangerous job. More people volunteer to work in the factories. They prefer it to the idea of getting stabbed by some Faction kid or trawling through the dump. Still, you've always admired the Scavengers skills and stories, and part of you wonders what's out there. 

You shoot a glance at Emery, bending down to ruffle some kid's hair. You get the sense that he'll be a Scavenger someday.

The bell stops ringing, and you hurriedly take a seat in one of the collapsing chairs. Emery plops down next to you with a sigh, grinning. The first can- corn- is passed around. You take some, but there isn't much left when it gets to you, and you want to save some for the others, too.

The next package is full of beef jerky, the savory scent wafting through the warehouse.

"Yes!" Emery says, punching his hands up. He slips some to the younger kids who didn't get a seat when no one's looking, then drops a stick in his lap. You take two. It's rare the Factionless get such good food, after all, and you like beef jerky.

The first few people at the beginning of the line finish and get up to leave, quickly replaced by others. The next can is soup, then beans, and when you're done eating, you wink at Emery and get up. Gina, the old woman who lives in the block next to you, sits down in your seat. 

You wipe your hands on your pants, walking slowly. The sounds of Factionless dinner fade away as you walk back towards the first block of concrete apartments, You turn into one of the warehouse's dead-end hallways. You don't know why, but with your stomach full, the sound of your feet tapping against the softly illuminated concrete is almost meditative. 

You pause by the place where the hall drops off into nothingness, its end sheared off long ago by some disaster. The fading sunlight is bright in your face. You can see a few colorful people walking back from classes, swinging lunch pails, talking to their friends. 

"I wonder what it'd be like to be you," you wonder aloud, gripping a steel beam and staring out over the edge. If you just had a chance...

Hands wrap around you, and you start, almost toppling over the edge. 

"Didn't mean to startle you," Emery says, setting you down and away from the view. You sit.

"What was that all about?" You snap, thinking about how close you were to falling.

"You only go here to watch them, you know. You're thinking about the factions again," Emery says, wincing. "Y/N..."

"I know it's not possible," you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself. "But I can't be factionless for the rest of my life, can I?"

"I'll be with you," Emery says, tilting his head with a lopsided grin. "It won't be so bad. We can get a job with the scavengers, or in the factory, if you prefer, and-"

He trails off, and he smiles. "Come on, Y/N, we'll find a way to make it work, a way to make it fun."

If you agree with him and decide to enjoy your life in factionless, go to 16. 

If you just can't do it and need to join a faction, go to 17.