This is supposed to be a lighthearted session of symbolic document destruction, not a political debate.

I glance at Tris. She grins at me, then leans in to whisper something to Christina.
"Are you here to help or what, Stiff?" I say.

What did you do, memorize a map of the city for fun?” says Christina.
“Yes,” says Will, looking puzzled. “Didn’t you?

Looks like someone had a mood swing.” She rolls her eyes. “Like you don’t want to
know what his fears are. He acts so tough that he’s probably afraid of marshmallows
and really bright sunrises or something.

What is it with you today?” says Christina on the way to breakfast. Her eyes are still
swollen from sleep and her tangled hair forms a fuzzy halo around her face.
“Oh, you know,” I say. “Sun shining. Birds chirping.”
She raises an eyebrow at me, as if reminding me that we are in an underground
tunnel.

Sorry, am I being rude?" she asks.
"I'm used to saying whatever is on my mind. Mom used to say that politeness is deception in pretty packaging