Divergent Read Online Free Page A

Maybe I don’t have to leave my family. Maybe if I fight to make Abnegation work, my act will turn into reality.
    “Beatrice!” Caleb says. “What happened? Are you all right?”
    “I’m fine.” He is with Susan and her brother, Robert, and Susan is giving me a strange look, like I am a different person than the one she knew this morning. I shrug. “When the test was over, I got sick. Must have been that liquid they gave us. I feel better now, though.”
    I try to smile convincingly. I seem to have persuaded Susan and Robert, who no longer look concerned for my mental stability, but Caleb narrows his eyes at me, the way he does when he suspects someone of duplicity.
    “Did you two take the bus today?” I ask. I don’t care how Susan and Robert got home from school, but I need to change the subject.
    “Our father had to work late,” Susan says, “and he told us we should spend some time thinking before the ceremony tomorrow.”
    My heart pounds at the mention of the ceremony.
    “You’re welcome to come over later, if you’d like,” Caleb says politely.
    “Thank you.” Susan smiles at Caleb.
    Robert raises an eyebrow at me. He and I have been exchanging looks for the past year as Susan and Caleb flirt in the tentative way known only to the Abnegation. Caleb’s eyes follow Susan down the walk. I have to grab his arm to startle him from his daze. I lead him into the house and close the door behind us.
    He turns to me. His dark, straight eyebrows draw together so that a crease appears between them. When he frowns, he looks more like my mother than my father. In an instant I can see him living the same kind of life my father did: staying in Abnegation, learning a trade, marrying Susan, and having a family. It will be wonderful.
    I may not see it.
    “Are you going to tell me the truth now?” he asks softly.
    “The truth is,” I say, “I’m not supposed to discuss it. And you’re not supposed to ask.”
    “All those rules you bend, and you can’t bend this one? Not even for something this important?” His eyebrows tug together, and he bites the corner of his lip. Though his words are accusatory, it sounds like he is probing me for information—like he actually wants my answer.
    I narrow my eyes. “Will you? What happened in your test, Caleb?”
    Our eyes meet. I hear a train horn, so faint it could easily be wind whistling through an alleyway. But I know it when I hear it. It sounds like the Dauntless, calling me to them.
    “Just…don’t tell our parents what happened, okay?” I say.
    His eyes stay on mine for a few seconds, and then he nods.
    I want to go upstairs and lie down. The test, the walk, and my encounter with the factionless man exhausted me. But my brother made breakfast this morning, and my mother prepared our lunches, and my father made dinner last night, so it’s my turn to cook. I breathe deeply and walk into the kitchen to start cooking.
    A minute later, Caleb joins me. I grit my teeth. He helps with everything. What irritates me most about him is his natural goodness, his inborn selflessness.
    Caleb and I work together without speaking. I cook peas on the stove. He defrosts four pieces of chicken. Most of what we eat is frozen or canned, because farms these days are far away. My mother told me once that, a long time ago, there were people who wouldn’t buy genetically engineered produce because they viewed it as unnatural. Now we have no other option.
    By the time my parents get home, dinner is ready and the table is set. My father drops his bag at the door and kisses my head. Other people see him as an opinionated man—too opinionated, maybe—but he’s also loving. I try to see only the good in him; I try.
    “How did the test go?” he asks me. I pour the peas into a serving bowl.
    “Fine,” I say. I couldn’t be Candor. I lie too easily.
    “I heard there was some kind of upset with one of the tests,” my mother says. Like my father, she works for the government, but