Aberrant

Thirty-Five: Dex

"Dex, this just isn't working," Amar says to me the moment I come out of the simulation. 

A couple of days ago, I'd had a fear where I had fallen from my tree in Amity and I was surrounded by strong-looking Dauntless who offered me a hand up. It was one of the most humiliating experiences I have ever had in my life. I even began to cry before I remembered that Dauntless had no business being on the Amity compound, as the only place they'd be would be on the gate. 

When I came out of the simulation, Amar didn't reprimand me for coming out too quickly, but instead looked at me sadly. 

He said quietly, "I suppose this explains why you don't want to accept my help." And I realised that he was right. He sighed and shook his head, "Dex, have you not realised that people want to help you because they genuinely care about you? Not because you happen to come from Amity?"

"What?" I asked, stunned. 

"Just let me help you," he said, "Not because you're weak or because you're a pansy cake. But because you're Dex and you deserve to live."

I crossed my arms, suspicious, "You don't strike me as the helping type."

Amar laughed, a short, curt bark. He smiled, "No, I'm no Stiff, that's for sure." Then his face grew serious, "But I do want to help you. It'll be nice for me knowing that not every Divergent that appears in Dauntless is going to die."

I shrugged, "Alright." 

Amar's eyes widened slightly, "You'll accept my help?" 

I glared at him, as I said, "Yes. And I'm not comfortable with it. But if you're sure this is what is going to keep me live, then I have no choice but to accept your help." Amar nodded, smiling slightly to himself. "So, when do we start?"

"Tomorrow," he said, brusquely. I nodded and make my way to the door, but his hand clasped my wrist. "Hold on," he says. He's looking down at wristwatch he's got on. There's a pause as seconds tick by, "Ok, that's seven minutes." He smiled ruefully at me, "Better safe than sorry."

Since then, we've gotten absolutely nowhere. The moment I enter the simulation, it's so obvious that it's not real, that I've been coming out immediately. And what's more, I've been coming out the 'Dex' way, the Divergent way. The smashing-through-imaginary-walls-that-aren't-really-there way. 

With the past two sessions, Amar just pursed his lips, but remained upbeat. This time, however, he's openly admitted that it isn't working. 

I look at him and sigh. The stress is getting to both of us. We didn't have much time to get this right to start with, and tomorrow, the time averages will be revealed. 

"I know," I say. I glance at him, "Do you know what my score will be tomorrow?"

Amar sighs, "Not exactly. But I know it's bad, far worse than the other Divergents."

I sigh again, and say quietly, "What do you think will happen to me?"

Amar sits down heavily on a stool, "Dex, I-"

"The truth," I say, staring at him. 

He holds my gaze for a few seconds and then drops it. "I might as well know Amar," I prompt. 

"I know," he says, and then he looks at me, "Best case scenario: They'll think your score is just pure luck or something."

"And worst case scenario?" I ask. 

Amar sighs again, and this time his voice his so quiet that I can barely hear him as he says, "The Dauntless leaders watch your simulation, find out your Divergent and chuck you in the Chasm." The words are blunt and to the point.