But Then I Met Her | ✓

Chapter 28

A/N: Anything italicized in this is from Free Four. I'm not doing the entire thing, but I will quote it occassionally.

Disclaimer: I do not own Free Four or any parts of it. I only own my ideas for this chapter.

Today is just knife throwing for the initiates. At least they don't have to beat each other up until one is passed out.

Eric stands in the middle of the room, his posture rigid. "Tomorrow will be the last day of stage one," he says. He doesn't look at me. I hurt his pride yesterday, and not just during capture the flag- Max pulled me aside at breakfast to as how the initiates were doing, as if Eric was not the one in charge.

"You will resume fighting them. Today, you'll be learning how to aim. Everyone pick up three knives, and pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them." His eyes fall somewhere north of mine, like he is above me. I straighten up. I hate when he treats me like his lackey, like I didn't knock out one of his teeth during our own initiation.

At first, none of the initiates move.

"Now!"

All of the initiates scramble for the knives. All except Tris, who weaves in and out of people to get to the table. She doesn't try to look comfortable with the blades balancing on her palms, and that is what I like about her, that she knows these weapons are unnatural yet she finds a way to wield them.

When he thinks that I'm not looking, Eric sends me a black look. Both for beating him at capture the flag and for Max asking me about the initiates. Eric walks towards me, and I back away by instinct. I try not to be afraid of him, but I know how smart he is and that if I'm not careful he'll notice that I keep staring at her, and that will be my undoing.

I face the target and grip a knife tightly in my right hand, the other two in my left. I requested that knife-throwing be taken from the curriculum this year, because it serves no actual purpose other than fueling Dauntless bravado. No one here will ever use it except to impress someone, the way I will impress them now.

I hold the knife by the blade. This is more comfortable to me- the balance is right. My initiation instructor, Amar, saw that I have a busy mind, so he taught me to tie my movements to my breaths. I inhale, focusing on the target, exhale, and throw. The knife hits the target right in the center. Several of the initiates gasp, though I know that Tris is not one of them. I think climbing a Ferris wheel with a fear of heights is more impressive than throwing a sharpened piece of metal at a wooden target, but I might be mistaken.

I quickly catch on to my usual rhythm- inhale, pass the knife to my right hand, exhale, turn the blade in my hand, inhale, focus, exhale, and throw. Everything goes dark around the center of that board. The other factions call us brutish, as if we don't use our minds, but that is all I do here.

"Line up!" Eric's order pulls me out of my daze.

I leave the knives in the board to remind the initiates of what is possible, and stand against the side wall. Amar was also the one who gave me my name, back in the days when the first thing initiates did upon arriving in the Dauntless compound was go through our fear landscapes. He was the sort of person that made a nickname stick, so likeable that everyone imitated him.

I like this way better, though- you have time to prepare for your fear landscape. You aren't rushed to know exactly what you'll have to do.

Amar is dead now, but I can sometimes hear him scolding me for not breathing while I throw knives, or shoot a gun.