Love, Lies, Secrets and Manipulation (Divergent/Eric OC)

12. Blowing Off Some Steam

It's Day Two of initiation. We've been working on the punching bags all morning so far. Today is the day of our first fights, and since there's an uneven number of us transfers - nine, to be exact - one of us won't be fighting today.

But I have a feeling I won't be that person.

Eric pretty much made a threatening promise last night that he'd make the rest of my initiation a living hell. So, I can only imagine what he has lined up in store for me.

He hasn't shown up yet. But I'm glad. Things didn't end so well with us last night. We're now on even worse terms than we were my first night here.

I don't know what it is about him, but I've come to the conclusion that he's no longer good for me. In fact, I want nothing to do with him. I realized last night that he's nothing but a lethal, malevolent poison, disguised as an enticing and irresistible object.

That man is a reoccurring, ticking time bomb, waiting to explode at any given second.

I don't know what I should do more; fear him, hate him, or keep my guard up.

I know myself, better than anyone. So I know that when I'm threatened, fucked with, or backed into a corner, I get more angry than I do scared. And that is the only thing that's kept my blood pumping all morning.

Anger.

Eric has infuriated me, beyond the point of no return. The fact that he's convinced in that twisted, sick little mind of his, that he can do whatever he pleases with me and have me whenever, wherever, and however he wants, is disturbing!

I feel sorry for this punching bag that I've been attacking all morning. I convinced myself into thinking that it was Eric when I first started out. Now, almost two hours later, I'm freaking exhausted!

My knuckles, fists, arms, and legs are all soar. And my face, chest, and back are dripping with sweat. I'm now in desperate need of a shower and a clean change of clothing.

I bend down to grab my water bottle and finish off the rest of it. I probably look a hot mess right now, but I really don't care. I just need to freshen up and go change out of these icky, sweaty clothes. I turn and start walking towards the exit, but Jesse's voice stops me.

"Where are you going?" He asks. He's using the punching bag to the left of mine. He's sweaty too, but not as much as I am.

"To change out of these nasty, sweaty clothes." I point down to my sweaty clothing and chest. "I'll be right back."

"Hey, wait," he says. "I wasn't going to ask, but..." He pauses.

"But what?" I ask, sounding a little too bitchy.

Jesse opens his mouth, but hesitates on continuing any further.

"What, Jesse?"

"Is everything... okay?" He asks. "You've been acting strange ever since you showed up late to the dining hall last night."

I let out an annoyed sigh and lift the bottom of my tank top up to wipe my face from the excess sweat. I really don't want to talk about what happened with Eric last night.

To anyone!

"And then there's the fact that you've been going at that punching bag all morning like you have a personal vendetta against it." He adds.

I narrow my eyes at him, letting him know not to press the matter any further. "I'm fine, Jesse. I'm just... blowing off some steam."

"Alright, well, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."