Four: A Divergent Collection (Divergent Series Story)

by Veronica Roth

“My name is Four,” I say. “Call me ‘Stiff’ again and you and I will have a problem.”

I have a new name, which means I can be a new person. Someone who doesn’t put up with cutting comments from Erudite know-it-alls. Someone who can cut back. Someone who’s finally ready to fight. Four.

Dead people can be our heroes because they can’t disappoint us later; they only improve over time, as we forget more and more about them.

“Fear doesn’t shut you down,” I say. “It wakes you up. I’ve seen it. It’s fascinating.” Her eyes in every fear simulation, ice and steel and blue flame. The short, slight girl with the wire-taut arms. A walking contradiction. My hand slips over her jaw, touches her neck. “Sometimes I just want to see it again. Want to see you awake.”