Divergent Chapter 13 - Knife-Throwing

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A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I always love reviews. :-) Thank you also to my fantastic beta reader, Rosalie!

Several people made good arguments for writing this chapter from Tobias' perspective, even though Veronica Roth already did that and my "Divergent" fanfics are consistent with that particular short story of hers. So, I went ahead with his POV. I tried to stay true to the short story while also making the chapter flow with my story so far; plus, I tried not to just copy all of Roth's copyrighted material. Hopefully, my efforts paid off, and this chapter works without being too much like the original. If not, you can always re-read the short story...

By the way, for those who wanted this chapter to be written from Al's POV, I'll post that as a separate fic at some point.

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"Divergent" Chapter 13 – Knife-Throwing

"Congratulations," Max says with a wide smile as he joins me at breakfast. He doesn't do this often, but there's a certain status associated with winning capture the flag.

"It was the initiates who won," I tell him plainly. "I try not to interfere."

He chuckles. "Coming from you, I believe that." I know what he means. I can't imagine Eric following that rule.

"How are the initiates doing overall?" he asks before taking a bite of his muffin.

"They're surviving." Despite Eric's efforts. "Some of them are doing better than others, of course."

"Which ones are best?" It's not a surprising question, coming from Max.

"Edward," I answer without hesitation. "He has a lot of skill." Max nods, and I debate stopping there, since it's harder to decide what to say about the others. They're less likely to end up factionless if they have his support, but I don't want him watching them too closely either.

"And Tris," I finally add. "You know, the first jumper. She climbed the Ferris wheel last night and used the height to locate Eric's team."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "Well, that's bold," he comments. I just nod, yawning as if I'm too tired to pay much attention to the conversation. I don't want him to think I'm biased.

"Peter's probably next," I add. "In terms of skills anyway. But his attitude is a problem. He's cocky and a bit of a coward."

Max grunts, taking another bite of his breakfast. "I guess we'll see how he does in the simulations, then."

"Yeah, I suppose so." I eat some of my oatmeal before adding, "Most of the rest are okay, but not exceptional so far."

Max nods, finishing his muffin with a last, large bite. "Well, I'm sure you'll turn some of them into good members," he comments through his full mouth. He rises, thumping me on the shoulder. "Congratulations, again."

As he walks away, I notice Eric behind him, sitting at the table next to mine. He's frowning as he glares at his bran muffin, and it's obvious he heard everything we said. That's not good, since I didn't want him to know that Tris is the one who beat him. But still, maybe it's just as well he heard Max's reaction. He's less likely to try to kick her out if he thinks Max is on her side.

I just hope it doesn't make him pay more attention to her.

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The training room smells of metal and dust and sweat, as it usually does, and I breathe it in deeply. This room is the first place I ever felt strong, and the scent always reminds me of that feeling. Maybe it will help me deal with Eric today.

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