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Today in training the initiates finally get to do something new. A row of targets stand at one side of the room, and next to the door is a table with knives strewn across it. I stand next to Eric in the middle of the room.

"Tomorrow will be the last day of stage one," Eric says. "You will resume fighting then. Today, you'll be learning how to aim. Everyone picks up three knives." His voice is deeper than usual, it's his tone of voice reserved for when he is grumpy. Today he is still mad about the loss last night, four years in a row.

"And pay attention while Four demonstrates the correct technique for throwing them," I add. At first no one moves. "Now!" I yell.

The initiates scramble for daggers. I stand off to the side by Tris and her friends. For some reason I am drawn to Tris, like a motherly instinct almost. I know it sounds crazy, I'm only a year older than her, but I feel the need to make sure she succeeds.

"He's in a bad mood today," Christina mumbles.

"Is he ever in a good mood?" Tris murmurs back.

I laugh a little, and try to cover it with my hand, but fail. Tris and Christina look at me and smile. "You guys should have seen him last year," I whisper, "he was way worse believe it or not."

They both look at me like that was not physically possible.

"Luna," I hear my name called from behind me. I turn around to see Eric, a few steps from me. Everyone else in the room has stopped moving. "Would you like to stop distracting the initiates, so we can continue on with training."

"Sorry, Dad," I whisper just loud enough for him to hear.

He stares daggers at me but I just smirk back. Four goes back to demonstrating how to throw knives. He hits the target each time, exhaling as he releases the knife.

Eric orders, "Line up!"

I watch the transfers as they start practicing. I walk behind Peter, once again his stance is not right.

"Your feet aren't far enough apart," I say as I kick his right foot forward a little.

"Thanks. One day I'll get my stance right," he jokes.

"I think the Stiff's taken too many hits to the head!" Molly remarks, from the other side of Peter. "Hey, Stiff! Remember what a knife is?"

"Hey, it wasn't me this time." Peter laughs.

"I know, thank you for that. People are starting to like you better, and I know Tris appreciates it. Now if only you could get Molly to knock it off." I smile at him and he smiles back.

I turn and watch as Tris throws her first knife. It spins end over end, slamming into the board. The blade doesn't stick, but she is the first person to hit the target. I can see her smirk at Molly.

"Hey, Molly," Tris says. "Remember what a target is?"

I hear Christina snort, and her next knife hits the target.

"So you're gonna let the Stiff trash talk, but not anyone else," Peter nags.

"Yeah I am. No one ever said life was fair, now go back to practicing so you can hit the target eventually," I tease.

He laughs and turns back to the target.

A half hour later, Al is the only initiate who hasn't hit the target yet. His knives clatter to the floor, or bounce off the wall. While the rest of the initiates approach the board to collect their weapons, he hunts the floor for his. The next time he tries and misses.

Eric marches toward him and demands, "How slow are you, Candor? Do you need glasses? Should I move the target closer to you?"

Al's face turns red. He throws another knife, and this one sails a few feet to the right of the target. It spins and hits the wall.

near north side//peter hayesWhere stories live. Discover now