Standing on the Edge (That Goat Will Probably Eat You)

As Is The Father, So Is His Daughter

"Faraday, wake up!"

Not this again. I pull the cover over my head, as if by pretending they don't exist, they'll go away.

"Faraday, are you dressed?" That's Ella. She won't care anyway, so I don't respond. Someone hammers loudly on my door, shortly before it flies open. Expecting it to be Ella again, I curl up in a ball.

"Come on, Faraday, you're being childish. You can't just close your eyes and pretend things aren't happening."

It's Fish. That stings.

"What time is it?" I grumble. He prods me. "Time you should be up. Get moving."

"Ella can go down without me," I insist, "Nobody expects us to stick together!"

"Good point," Fish says, tugging the blanket from my face, "Ella, you can go." I hear Ella leaving, Thalia chattering behind her. I lift my head; Fish is sat on the bed, his head bobbing up and down like he's listening to music. Music with a very random beat. He's wearing the same suit as yesterday, except with a patch on his arm. It's like mine, the Five seal, except his has 'Michael Fisher, mentor' stitched under it. I'd forgotten that he even had a first name. "Right, Ella's gone," he says, "What's the problem?"

"There isn't one," I insist. Creepily, someone has laid out new training kit for me on the dresser; someone has been in while I'm sleeping. They still haven't removed the nightwear, though. Perhaps I should crease it and leave it on the floor and then they'll take it away. "Someone's been in here," I mutter, freaked out.

"Just an Avox," he mutters, wriggling his foot. Can't he sit still? He makes me nervous already.

"Oh, well that's okay then," I snap. He glares at me briefly and I shrivel; his eyes - in that moment that they're properly focused - are piercing.

I still have no idea how he ended up as a mentor.

"Get up," he insists.

Ella knows what she's doing today. She's going to stick to the pair from Eight, no matter how much Verona ignores her and Mars stares at his feet. She gets the feeling that the pair of them don't want to stick together but they're having to because nobody else will take them. Verona still hasn't said a word to her.

They're not in the training room yet; very few people are. The pair from Three, who were the last yesterday, are here already, as are the Careers, of course. She chuckles when she sees them; if Faraday thinks he's got a chance of getting in with that lot, he needs to think again. She almost feels sorry for him.

She doesn't feel awkward even though she's got nobody to sit with. She'd rather not make friends with any of them, not when she has to kill them. She guesses that it's probably the reason why she feels safe with Verona and Mars, because she knows she won't get attached to them. Verona is too stiff and strong, a natural survivor but not naturally sociable, and Mars is too young and too quiet. She keeps forgetting he's there. He answers her questions politely, but as if he's scared of her analysing him for anything that could be treacherous. Verona can keep them alive, Mars can keep them out of the way.

"Uh, hello," says a hesitant male voice at her shoulder. It's the guy from Three, the one who was forced into volunteering by his father. She feels sorry for him, of course, but she doesn't want to talk to him. He's a nice guy; if this was at home she'd be fond of him. The girl is behind him, smiling slightly. She's got your typical District Three look like Ella saw off the train; pale blonde, almost platinum hair, bright blue eyes, quite thin. Not in the way that Verona is, but skinny rather than strong. Despite her mass of carefully styled hair, Ella can tell she's a bit of a tomboy, mostly because she's stood with a slouch and her hands are thrust deep into her pockets, marks of someone who doesn't care what they look like.