divergent-excerpt

Visiting Day, they will barely recognize me—if they come
at all. It doesn’t matter that I ache at even a split-second
memory of their faces. Even Caleb’s, despite how much
his secrets hurt me. I match my inhales to the inhales
of the other initiates, and my exhales to their exhales. It
doesn’t matter.
A strangled sound interrupts the breathing, followed
by a heavy sob. Bed springs squeal as a heavy body turns,
and a pillow muffles the sobs, but not enough. They come
from the bunk next to mine—they belong to a Candor boy,
Al, the largest and broadest of all the initiates. He is the
last person I expected to break down.
His feet are just inches from my head. I should comfort
him—I should want to comfort him, because I was raised
that way. Instead I feel disgust. Someone who looks so
strong shouldn’t act so weak. Why can’t he just keep his
crying quiet like the rest of us
I swallow hard.
If my mother knew what I was thinking, I know what
look she would give me. The corners of her mouth turned
down. Her eyebrows set low over her eyes—not scowling,
almost tired. I drag the heel of my hand over my cheeks.
Al sobs again. I almost feel the sound grate in my own
throat. He is just inches away from me—I should touch him.
No. I put my hand down and roll onto my side, facing
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