The Unlucky Ones

[15] - Oh No

[Tobias]

I STAND IN THE TRAINING ROOM, waiting for the initiates. Tris, Christina, Will, and Al enter the room. Tris is staring at Al's face and my cheeks feel hot. Am I jealous? No way. I am not jealous of the initiate who cries in his bed. Tris looks at the chalkboard when she walks in. She didn’t have to fight yesterday, but today she definitely will. When she sees her name, she stops in the middle of a step. Her opponent is Peter.

" Oh no, " Says Christina, who shuffles in behind them.

Her face is bruised, and she looks like she is trying not to limp. I didn't get to see her fight yesterday, but it doesn't look like it ended well. When she sees the board, she crumples the muffin wrapper she is holding in her fist into a ball.

" Are they serious? They’re really going to make you fight him? " She asks.

Peter is almost a foot taller than Tris is, and yesterday, he beat Drew in less than five minutes. Today, Drew’s face is more black-and-blue than flesh-toned. I thought he was supposed to be friends with Drew.

" Maybe you can just take a few hits and pretend to go unconscious, " Suggests Al. " No one would blame you. "

Tris nods slowly.

" Yeah, " She says. " Maybe. "

She stares at her name on the board. Al and Christina are just trying to help, but the fact that they don’t believe, not even in a tiny corner of their minds, that she has a chance against Peter bothers me. I stand at the side of the room, half listening to Al and Christina’s chatter, and watching Molly fight Edward. My eyes also land on Tris occasionally. Edward's much faster than Molly is, so I’m sure Molly will not win today.

As the fight goes on and her irritation fades, Tris obviously begins to get nervous. I told them yesterday to exploit their opponent’s weaknesses, and aside from his utter lack of likable qualities, Peter doesn’t have any. He’s tall enough to be strong, but not so big that he’s slow; he has an eye for other people’s soft spots. He’s vicious and won’t show her any mercy. I would like to say that he underestimates her, but that would be a lie. She is as unskilled as he suspects.

Maybe Al is right, and she should just take a few hits and pretend to be unconscious. But she can’t afford not to try. She can’t be ranked last. That'd only prove Peter right. By the time Molly peels herself off the ground, looking only half-conscious thanks to Edward, my heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my fingertips. Tris stumbles forward as if she can’t remember how to stand. And can’t remember how to punch. She walks to the center of the arena and my guts writhe as Peter goes toward her, taller than I remembered, his muscles standing at attention. He smiles at her. I wonder if throwing up on him will do her any good. I doubt it.

" You okay there, Stiff? " He says. " You look like you’re about to cry. I might go easy on you if you cry. "

She looks over his shoulder, looking directly at me. My arms are folded over my chest and I'm glaring at Peter more than I thought I was. Next to me is Eric, who taps his foot faster than my heartbeat. One second Peter and Tris are standing there, staring at each other, and the next Peter’s hands are up by his face, his elbows bent. His knees are bent too like he’s ready to spring.

" Come on, Stiff, " He says, his eyes glinting. " Just one little tear. Maybe some begging. "

The thought of her begging Peter for mercy makes me taste bile. Her leg spits up into the air and she kicks him in the side. Or she would have kicked him in the side, if he hadn’t caught her foot and yanked it forward, knocking her off-balance. Her back smacks into the floor, and she pulls her foot free, scrambling to her feet. She has to stay on her feet so he can’t kick her in the head. That’s the only thing I can think about.

" Stop playing with her, " Snaps Eric. " We don’t have all day. "

Peter’s mischievous look disappears. His arm twitches and his fist lands against her jaw. She blinks and lurches to the side as the room dips and sways. She is too off-balance to do anything but move away from him, as far as the arena will allow. He darts in front of her and kicks her hard in the stomach. His foot forces the air from her lungs and it hurts her. She wheezes and falls. Get back up on your feet, I think. It's the only thought in my mind. She pushes herself up, but Peter is already there. He grabs her hair with one hand and punches her in the nose with the other.

She tries to shove him off, her hands slapping at his arms, and he punches her again, this time in the ribs. Her face is wet. Bloody nose. He shoves her and she falls again, scraping her hands on the ground, blinking, sluggish and slow and hot. She coughs and drags herself to her feet. Peter spins around her; Something hits her from the side and she almost falls over again. Get back up on your feet. Get back up on your feet! She punches as hard as she can, receiving nothing more than a soft groan. Peter smacks her ear with the flat of his palm, laughing under his breath. He's knocking her off by making her ears ring.

" Good tactic. " Eric says, pointing at him as he repeats it.

I shake my head.

" Cheap tactic. " I reply.

He shoves her and she topples over. I grab my jacket, walking toward the exit. This fight is not something I want to see the end of. I know Tris won't be able to finish it. I push the door open, exiting the room. Before the door behind me can close, I hear a loud shrill scream. She snapped.

"Enough!" Eric shouts.

It's good I didn't see the end. I don't think I could've.