Page 52 of The Sixth Fraction

I’m still not good at most of the things the factionless want me to learn, but at least now I know how to time my burst of speed. I grab the handle and pull myself in.

The recruit is already on the train. I knew he would be, but somehow I was unprepared for . . . this.

For him.

He’s standing in moonlight, and that’s how I see his eyes. Blue, but not bright like morning—dark, like dreaming, sleeping, waiting.

He’s the sentry who helped me at the Choosing Ceremony.

I stare at him, suddenly tongue-tied, and the train turns, shuddering on its rails as it switches to the elevated track. I lose my balance, and he reaches out to steady me. His fingers wrap around my pale forearm. His knuckles are calloused.

I get my feet under me and clear my throat.

“Thanks,” I say.

Just as he did at the Choosing Ceremony, he looks at me with a focus so absolute I’m not convinced he ever gets distracted by anything at all. It makes my skin prickle.

There’s no recognition in his eyes, though. He must not remember me, and really, can I blame him? When he helped me to my feet at the Choosing Ceremony, I was just an Abnegation girl, identical to every other Abnegation girl. Just some Stiff.

And now . . . I don’t know what I am, exactly.

He’s wearing all black, but I don’t see any piercings, any tattoos, any signs of the ostentatious Dauntlessness that I’m expecting. There’s black ink on the back of his neck, creeping over the collar of his jacket, but just a hint of it.

“I thought Evelyn was the one who requested this meeting,” he says, his voice low and clear.

“She was. But she asked me to come instead.”

“Oh, really?” His tone is sour. “And who the hell are you?”

“Beatrice—” I say at first, out of habit. “Tris.”

The recruit—Four—is already shaking his head.

“No. Absolutely not.” He paces away from me. “She sent you here to talk me into something, and I’m not interested.”

“She didn’t send me. I sent myself.”

“I’m sure you did,” he says. “And I’m equally sure it was her idea, and she made you think it was yours.”

I open my mouth to object, but I remember the way she looked at me when I suggested I go in her place. Like she was expecting it. He gives me a knowing look.

“Like I said, she sent you. And I know exactly why, and—”

“Why?”

He snorts. “Because she—” He cuts himself off. “No. I’m not doing that, either.”

“Doing what?”

“This . . . thing where you play innocent to catch me off guard. Trust me, my guard is firmly in place.”

I laugh a little. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“There’s nothing you can say to me that she hasn’t already said,” he says. “So why don’t we just . . . not?”

We’re between stations right now, but I bet if we weren’t he would throw himself off this train and I’d have to chase him down the street. Or maybe I wouldn’t bother. I don’t really care if some Dauntless sentry joins the factionless, do I? I’m just here to do Evelyn a favor, to earn her trust.

Which means I have to at least try.