Insurgent (Divergent #2)(30)
Author: Veronica Roth

Lynn leads me to the left side of the room and between the rows of bunks. She looks at the boy sitting on one of the bottom bunks—he is a few years younger than we are, and he’s trying to undo a knot in his shoelaces.

“Hec,” she says, “you’re going to have to find another bunk.”

“What? No way,” he says without looking up. “I’m not relocating again just because you want to have late-night pillow chats with one of your stupid friends.”

“She is not my friend,” snaps Lynn. I almost laugh. “Hec, this is Tris. Tris, this is my little brother, Hector.”

At the sound of my name, his head jerks up, and he stares at me, openmouthed.

“Nice to meet you,” I say.

“You’re Divergent,” he says. “My mom said to stay away from you because you might be dangerous.”

“Yeah. She’s a big scary Divergent, and she’s going to make your head explode with only the power of her brain,” says Lynn, jabbing him between the eyes with her index finger. “Don’t tell me you actually believe all that kid stuff about the Divergent.”

He turns bright red and snatches some of his things from a pile next to the bed. I feel bad for making him move until I see him toss his things down a few bunks over. He doesn’t have to go far.

“I could have done that,” I say. “Slept over there, I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.” Lynn grins. “He deserves it. He called Zeke a traitor right to Uriah’s face. It’s not like it’s not true, but that’s no reason to be a jerk about it. I think Candor is rubbing off on him. He feels like he can just say whatever he wants. Hey, Mar!”

Marlene pokes her head around one of the bunks and smiles toothily at me.

“Hey, Tris!” says Marlene. “Welcome. What’s up, Lynn?”

“Can you get some of the smaller girls to give up a few pieces of clothing each?” Lynn says, “Not all shirts, though. Jeans, underwear, maybe a spare pair of shoes?”

“Sure,” says Marlene.

I put my knife down next to the bottom bunk.

“What ‘kid stuff’ were you referring to?” I say.

“The Divergent. People with special brainpowers? Come on.” She shrugs. “I know you believe in it, but I don’t.”

“So how do you explain me being awake during simulations?” I say. “Or resisting one entirely?”

“I think the leaders choose people at random and change the simulations for them.”

“Why would they do that?”

She waves her hand in my face. “Distraction. You’re so busy worrying about the Divergent—like my mom—that you forget to worry about what the leaders are doing. It’s just a different kind of mind control.”

Her eyes skirt mine, and she kicks at the marble floor with the toe of her shoe. I wonder if she’s remembering the last time she was on mind control. During the attack simulation.

I have been so focused on what happened to Abnegation that I almost forgot what happened to Dauntless. Hundreds of Dauntless woke to discover the black mark of murder on them, and they didn’t even choose it for themselves.

I decide not to argue with her. If she wants to believe in a government conspiracy, I don’t think I can dissuade her. She would have to experience it for herself.

“I come bearing clothes,” says Marlene, stepping in front of our bunk. She holds a stack of black clothes the size of her torso, which she offers to me with a proud look on her face. “I even guilt-tripped your sister into handing over a dress, Lynn. She brought three.”

“You have a sister?” I ask Lynn.

“Yeah,” she says, “she’s eighteen. She was in Four’s initiate class.”

“What’s her name?”

“Shauna,” she says. She looks at Marlene. “I told her none of us would need dresses anytime soon, but she didn’t listen, as usual.”

I remember Shauna. She was one of the people who caught me after zip lining.

“I think it would be easier to fight in a dress,” says Marlene, tapping her chin. “It would give your legs freer movement. And who really cares if you flash people your underwear, as long as you’re kicking the crap out of them?”

Lynn goes silent, like she recognizes that as a spark of brilliance but can’t bring herself to admit it.

“What’s this about flashing underwear?” says Uriah, sidestepping a bunk. “Whatever it is, I’m in.”

Marlene punches him in the arm.

“Some of us are going to the Hancock building tonight,” says Uriah. “You should all come. We’re leaving at ten.”

“Zip lining?” says Lynn.

“No. Surveillance. We’ve heard the Erudite keep their lights on all night, which will make it easier to look through their windows. See what they’re doing.”

“I’ll go,” I say.

“Me too,” says Lynn.

“What? Oh. Me too,” Marlene says, smiling at Uriah. “I’m going to get food. Want to come?”

“Sure,” he says.

Marlene waves as they walk away. She used to walk with a lift in her step, like she was skipping. Now her steps are smoother—more elegant, maybe, but lacking the childish joy I associate with her. I wonder what she did when she was under the simulation.

Lynn’s mouth puckers.

“What?” I say.

“Nothing,” she snaps. She shakes her head. “They’ve just been hanging out alone all the time lately.”

“He needs all the friends he can get, it sounds like,” I say. “What with Zeke and all.”

“Yeah. What a nightmare that was. One day he was here, and the next . . .” She sighs. “No matter how long you train someone to be brave, you never know if they are or not until something real happens.”

Her eyes fix on mine. I never noticed before how strange they are, a golden brown. And now that her hair has grown in somewhat, and her baldness isn’t the first thing I see, I also notice her delicate nose, her full lips—she is striking without trying to be. I am envious of her for a moment, and then I think she must hate it, and that’s why she shaved her head.

“You are brave,” she says. “You don’t need me to say it, because you already know it. But I want you to know that I know.”

She is complimenting me, but I still feel like she smacked me with something.

Then she adds, “Don’t mess it up.”