Cold Hearts | Tobias Eaton

°10°

I TRAIN MY eyes on the floor and stand behind the Dauntless-born initiates who chose to return to their own faction. I try to find Beatrice but if feels like she's running away from me. The dauntless are all taller than I am, so even when I lift my head, I see only black-clothed shoulders. When the last girl makes her choice-Amity-it's time to leave. The Dauntless exit first. I walk past the gray-clothed men and women who were my faction, staring determinedly at the back of someone's head.

But I have to see my parents one more time. I look over my shoulder at the last second before I pass them. My father's eyes are looking at something behind me with a look of accusation. Beside him, my mother is smiling. They're probably looking at Beatrice. They're real daughter.

The people behind me press me forward, away from my family, who will be the last ones to leave. They may even stay to stack the chairs and clean the bowls. I twist my head around to find Caleb in the crowd of Erudite behind me. He stands among the other initiates, shaking hands with a faction transfer, a boy who was Candor. The smile he gives him is a sign that he'll be happy. And that's probably the only good thing that happens today.

I glance at the boy to my left, who was Erudite and now looks as pale and nervous as I should feel. I spent all my time worrying about which faction I would choose and never even considered choosing Dauntless. What waits for me at Dauntless headquarters? Why would I do that? There was a promise between my brother, sister and I, that was about not leaving someone vulnerable behind.

The crowd of Dauntless leading us go to the stairs instead of the elevators. I thought only the Abnegation used the stairs.

Then everyone starts running. I hear whoops and shouts and laughter all around me, and dozens of thundering feet moving at different rhythms. It is not a selfless act for the Dauntless to take the stairs; it is a wild act.

"What the hell is going on?" the boy next to me shouts.

I just shake my head and keep running. I'm no by any means a runner, but this is the best feeling I ever had. Free in the wind, not caring about anything. Outside, the air is crisp and cold and the sky is orange from the setting sun. It reflects off the black glass of the Hub.

The Dauntless sprawl across the street, blocking the path of a bus, and I suddenly see Beatrice sprint to catch up to the back of the crowd. I have not run anywhere in a long time. Abnegation discourages anything done strictly for my own enjoyment. I follow the Dauntless down the street and around the corner and hear a familiar sound: the train horn.

"Oh no," mumbles the Erudite boy. "Are we supposed to hop on that thing?"

"I don't know," I say, truthfully. I never really cared about their transportation unlike Beatrice. Maybe this was one of the sign she would transfer.

The crowd spreads out in a long line. The train glides toward us on steel rails, its light flashing, its horn blaring. The door of each car is open, waiting for the Dauntless to pile in, and they do, group by group, until only the new initiates are left. The Dauntless-born initiates are used to doing this by now, so in a second it's just faction transfers left.

I step forward with a few others and start jogging. We run with the car for a few steps and then throw ourselves sideways. I pull myself into the car, where currently is only me and one Amity girl.

I hear a shout and look over my shoulder. Beatrice is being pulled by girl that just jumped in. Some candor boys also arrived. A short Erudite boy with red hair pumps his arms as he tries to catch up to the train. An Erudite girl by the door reaches out to grab the boy's hand, straining, but he is too far behind. He falls to his knees next to the tracks as we sail away, and puts his head in his hands.

I feel uneasy. He just failed Dauntless initiation. He is factionless now. It could happen at any moment.

"So Abnegation and Amity? I bet it doesn't happen so often in dauntless" the Amity girl says. She is shorter than me, with pale skin and long dark hair.

"Miracles don't happen so often." I say.

"I'm Jacqueline," she says, offering me her hand, "It's a really bad name. But I was adopted so it makes sense."

I haven't shaken a hand in a long time either. The Abnegation greeted one another by bowing heads, a sign of respect. I take her hand, uncertainly, and shake it twice, hoping I didn't squeeze too hard or not hard enough.

"Kazuha," I say "also don't worry about that name. They did the same to me."

"Do you know where we're going?" She has to shout over the wind, which blows harder through the open doors by the second. The train is picking up speed. I sit down. It will be easier to keep my balance if I'm low to the ground. She raises an eyebrow at me.

"A fast train means wind," I say. "Wind means falling out. Get down."

Jacqueline sits next to me, inching back to lean against the wall. My eyes focus on Beatrice who looks away. Candor sound better and better.

"I guess we're going to Dauntless headquarters," I say, "but I don't know where that is."

"Does anyone?" She shakes her head, grinning. "It's like they just popped out of a hole in the ground or something."

"Sounds about right." We laugh.

Then the wind rushes through the car, and the other faction transfers, hit with bursts of air, fall on top of one another.

Over my left shoulder, orange light from the setting sun reflects off the glass buildings, and I can faintly see the rows of gray houses that used to be my home.

It's Caleb's turn to make dinner tonight. Who will take his place-my mother or my father? And when they clear out his room, what will they discover? I imagine books jammed between the dresser and the wall, books under his mattress. The Erudite thirst for knowledge filling all the hidden places in his room. Did he always know that he would choose Erudite? And if he did, how did I not notice?

What a good actor he was.
And when they'll go to my room, they'll see my book. The law. And maybe they're going to wonder why I chose dauntless, if I wanted to be in Candor. The thought makes me sick to my stomach, and even though Beatrice left them too, at least she was no good at pretending. At least they all knew that she wasn't selfless. They'll know she always said that. And they'll love her after this.

And then when they'll remember me, they'll think how selfish I was. The child they took care of, even if it wasn't theirs, left the moment it could. Without saing "Goodbye" nor "Thank you."