“Lynn smacks Uriah hard in the back of the head, Christina says, “Hey Tris!” and Uriah cries, “Ow! How on earth do you make a pillow hurt, Lynn?”“My exceptional strength,” she says.”

“Before I leave the bathroom, I pinch my cheeks hard to bring blood to the surface of my skin. It’s stupid, but I don’t want to look weak and exhausted in front of everyone.When I walk back into Tobias’s room, Uriah is sprawled across the bed facedown; Christina is holding the blue sculpture above Tobias’s desk, examining it; and Lynn is poised above Uriah with a pillow, a wicked grin creeping across her face.Lynn smacks Uriah hard in the back of the head, Christina says, “Hey Tris!” and Uriah cries, “Ow! How on earth do you make a pillow hurt, Lynn?”“My exceptional strength,” she says. “Did you get smacked, Tris? One of your cheeks is bright red.”I must not have pinched the other one hard enough. “No, it’s just … my morning glow.”

“Ready,Stiff?" Zeke smirks down at me. "I have to say,I'm impressed that you aren't screaming and crying right now.""I told you," Uriah says. "She's Dauntless through and through. Now get on with it.""Careful,brother,or I might not tighten your straps enough," Zeke says. He smacks his knee. "And then,splat!""Yeah,yeah," Uriah says. "And then our mother would boil you alive.”

“So, the thing we’re all not talking about,” he says. He gestures to me. “You almost died, a sadistic pansycake saved you, and now we’re all waging some serious war with the factionless as allies.”“Pansycake?” says Christina.“Dauntless slang.” Lynn smirks. “Supposed to be a huge insult, only no one uses it anymore.”“Because it’s so offensive,” says Uriah, nodding.“No. Because it’s so stupid no Dauntless with any sense would speak it, let alone think it. Pansycake. What are you, twelve?”“And a half,” he says.”

“Do the elevators work?" I ask Uriah, as quietly as I can. "Sure they do." says Zeke, rolling his eyes, "You think I'm stupid enough not to come here early and turn on the emergency generator?""Yeah," says Uriah. "I kinda do.”

“I think it would be easier to fight in a dress,” says Marlene, tapping her chin. “It would give your legs freer movement. And who really cares if you flash people your underwear, as long as you’re kicking the crap out of them?”Lynn goes silent, like she recognizes that as a spark of brilliance but can’t bring herself to admit it.“What’s this about flashing underwear?” says Uriah, sidestepping a bunk. “Whatever it is, I’m in.”