To Try Again | Divergent (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter 14

Tris POV

I can't fight in a dress, so I get myself some new clothes from the Pit before I walk to the training room for my last fight, hopefully with Molly.

"Hey, where were you this morning?" Christina asks when I walk in. I squint to see the blackboard across the room. The space next to my name is blank—I haven't gotten an opponent yet.

"I got held up," I say, leaving it at that.

I see Tobias writing a name next to mine.

"You okay, Tris? You look a little...," says Al.

"A little what?"

Tobias moves away from the board. The name written next to mine is Molly. Yes!

"On edge," says Al.

My fight is last on the list again, meaning that I have to wait through three fights before I get to hurt Molly. I still don't know where this violent side of me came from, but it's there. And it isn't going away any time soon.

"Go easy on me, okay?" Al asks Christina.

"I make no promises," she replies.

Will and Myra are first. It's an easy win. Once again, Christina beats Al with little to no effort. Edward and Peter's fight lasts longer, but Edward wins in the end.

By the time the three matches are done, I'm hungry for lunch. I know I can beat her, I've done it before. I walk to the arena without looking at anyone or anything but the center of the room. Some of my anger has faded, but it isn't hard to call back. All I have to do is think about how cold the air was and how loud the laughter was. Look at her. She's a child.

Molly stands across from me with a smirk on her face.

"Was that a birthmark I saw on your left butt cheek?" she asks. "Goodness, you're pale, Stiff."

She'll make the first move. She always does. She did last time.

Molly starts toward me and throws her weight into a punch. As her body shifts forward, I duck and drive my fist into her stomach, right over her bellybutton. Before she can get her hands on me, I slip past her, my hands up, ready for her next attempt.

She's not smirking anymore. She runs at me like she's about to tackle me, and I dart out of the way. I hear Tobias's voice in my head, telling me that the most powerful weapon at my disposal is my elbow. I just have to find a way to use it.

I block her next punch with my forearm. The blow stings, but I barely notice it. She grits her teeth and lets out a frustrated groan, more animal-sounding than human. She tries a sloppy kick at my side, which I dodge, and while her balance is off, I rush forward and force my elbow up at her face. She pulls her head back just in time, and my elbow grazes her chin.

She punches me in the ribs and I stumble to the side, recovering my breath. There's something she's not protecting, I know it. I want to hit her face, but maybe that's not a smart move. I watch her for a few seconds. Her hands are too high; they guard her nose and cheeks, leaving her stomach and ribs exposed. Molly and I have the same flaw in combat.

For just a second, our eyes meet.

I aim an uppercut low, below her bellybutton. My fist sinks into her flesh, forcing a heavy breath from her mouth that I feel against my ear. As she gasps, I sweep-kick her legs out from under her, and she falls hard on the ground, sending dust into the air. I pull my foot back and kick as hard as I can at her ribs.

She curls into a ball to protect her side, and I kick again, this time hitting her in the stomach. Like a child. I kick again, this time hitting her in the face. Blood springs from her nose and spreads over her face. Look at her. Another kick hits her in the chest.

She's down. I know that I should stop, but just like with Peter, I don't.

I am about to kick again, but familiar hands grab my arms, keeping me in place. Tobias pulls me away from Molly with ease. He is so much stronger than me. I breathe through gritted teeth, staring at Molly's blood-covered face, the color deep and rich and beautiful, in a way.

She groans and blood escapes from her lips. At the sight, I feel my mouth curl into a smile. I'm not sadistic, no where close, but I feel relieved knowing that maybe she will just leave me alone.

"You won, Tris," Tobias roughly whispers in my ear. "I thought that you were better than that. Just stop."

He's right. What was I thinking? If I keep this up I might lose him. I can't lose him.  He is my life.

"Sorry," I mutter shamefully.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead. He stares at me. His eyes are too wide; they look alarmed.

"I think you should leave," he says. "Take a walk."

"I'm fine," I say. "I'm fine now," I say again, this time for myself.

I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did.

But just like last time, I don't.

Not one little bit.