I'm Divergent. And I can't be controlled.

Even though I am still injured, I had to fight again today.Luckily this time,I was paired against Myra,who couldn't throw a good punch if someone was controlling her arm for her.

It must be because you're so approachable", I say flatly. "You know, like a bed of nails." He stares at me, and I don't look away. He isn't a dog but the same rules apply. Looking away is submissive. Looking him in the eye is a challenge. It's my choice. Heat rushes into my cheeks. What will happen when this tension breaks? But he just says, "Careful, Tris.

And is it selfish of me to crave victory, or is it brave?

Yes," she says, her eyes bright with tears. "My dear child, you've done so well.

Too bad you didn't just take Max up on his offer, Four. Well, too bad for you, anyway," says Eric quietly as he clicks the bullet into its chamber. My lungs burn; I haven't breathed in almost a minute. I see Tobias's hand twitch in the corner of my eye, but my hand is already on my gun. I press the barrel to Eric's forehead. His eyes widen, and his face goes slack, and for a second he looks like another sleeping Dauntless soldier. My index finger hovers over the trigger. "Get your gun away from his head," I say. "You won't shoot me," Eric replies. "Interesting theory. " I say.

Dead people can be our heroes because they can't disappoint us later; they only improve over time, as we forget more and more about them.