Ambivalence [p.h.] - EDITING

chapter 8 || jax is brutal and could hand our butts to us any day

I toyed with her by taking a step forward. Tris immediately crawled back, eventually stepping out of the circle.  I dropped my guard and let her come back.  Decent reflexes.  Once she's in, I waste no time faking for her head. Tris fell for it. I smirked. Once she flung her arms above her head, I grabbed her wrists with one of my hands and jabbed her in the gut with the other.  She huffs and grunts with each hit and stumbles a bit to try and get out of my grasp.  It's no fun when it's too easy.  Tris managed to free one hand when I loosened my grip, using it to punch my cheekbone.  If you can even call it a punch, that is; it would probably leave a worse bruise on her than it would on me.  I couldn't hold back a laugh. Without missing a beat, I used the wrist still in my grasp to hoist her over my hip and throw her to the ground.  She slammed against the wood with a weak thud.  As she gasps for air, I jump on top of her and pin her to the ground.  I didn't particularly fancy the idea of getting her blood on my hands, but Eric's gaze on my back and my fists flying.  As much as I resented her, I did my best not to mess up here face to much. It's not fair to go full out when she doesn't know how to fight.  Once I felt she was bloody (but not really hurt) enough for Eric's liking, I ended the match with a clean hit to the jaw. Tris went limp under me.  From behind me I heard Peter and Molly whoop in victory while Christina let out a bewildered gasp.  I rolled my eyes. The most she'd wake up with were a few bruises, the small cuts that take two seconds to patch up, and a split lip.  I kept her pinned down for three seconds, when Eric cleared his throats.

"Jax wins."  Christina bolted over to carry Tris' meagre form to the infirmary.  Of course, she doesn't forget to shoot me the dirtiest glare I had ever seen.   I shot Christina the sourest look I could muster in response.  Eric, in the other hand, must have had a field day.

The instructor was the only one I could pay attention to, even though Peter and Molly were swaddling me with praise. It had to be the crazed look in his eyes. It was offsetting. "Jax," he called. Peter and Molly came to an abrupt halt. "Looks like Rowan's lessons pair off.  I'll see you around."  He and Four took off, leaving the three of us alone.

"We should check on Drew," Molly thought aloud, doing her best to break the awkward silence. 

"Yeah," I said fervently. "That's a great idea!"  The girl left to close and lock the door, while Peter held me back.

I eyed his hand around my wrist. "What is it?"

"Who's Rowan?"

"He was my hand-to-hand instructor back at Erudite. He was a Dauntless transfer. Though I'm not sure how Eric knew that."

"Maybe he knew Rowan while he was still Dauntless?"

I shook my head. "He couldn't have. Rowan is a lot older than us. Maybe he talked to Eddie, or maybe..."

"Maybe, what?"

"Maybe he was in Erudite too."

• • •

Dinner was fairly uneventful.  The table was silent even though we were only missing two people, though that could likely have been attributed to all the tension.  With Myra gone, I had the opportunity to sit with my best friend for a change, who was exchanging daggers with Peter from across the table.

"So," I said, trying and failing to get the boys' attention. I tapped my fingers on the table restlessly as the gears in my mind revolved at a hundred miles a minute.  I tried looking to Molly for help, who only sent me a panicked shrug in return.  None of my friends have so much as touched their food and I couldn't tolerate it any longer. 

"Guys!" I blurted.  "Why don't we get tattoos?"  Peter drew his eyes towards me and studied my expression.

"Yeah, okay."  Next, I looked to Eddie with wide, hopeful eyes.