Ring! Ring! Ring!
A groan emits from the girls lips as she reaches over reluctantly to whack her alarm clock. Her dull blue eyes open slightly and she takes in her surroundings. Even though she has been in her new flat for over a month it still shocks her when she wakes up every morning thinking she is in her old bedroom and she is waking up to the smell of waffles and bacon wafting through the door and the promise of a new, familiar day. It's not that this girl is depressed in her new life, she just doesn't like such a dramatic change. A wave of nostalgia washes over her as she remembers her old life. She misses everything about it. The safety, the certainty and the love that was always guaranteed.
This life is definitely different. It's hard, but Tris is always up for a challenge.
She swings her legs over the side of her bed and stretches her limbs. She scans her untidy room.
There are boxes scattered all over the wooden floor.
It's a tidy mess, she thinks to herself reassuringly. Even though there are countless boxes thrown across the floor they're all labeled neatly and placed in the correct places.
Tris strolls over to her pile of clothes and grabs a pair of jeans and her plain, old, gray school jumper.
She brings the soft, cotton fabric to her nose and breathes in the scent. It still has the smell of home. Fresh air mixed and lemons. It wasn't the most pleasant smell but it made her feel safe.
Tris glances at herself in the mirror. Usually her eyes would drift away, almost ashamed. But now Tris let herself stare. In her hometown, an isolated village called Abnegation, the villagers scowled upon vanity. It was a wholesome place. Everyone was always giving. They made sure each and every person was happy. You always had to think of others before yourself. But sometimes it got too much. Sometimes she felt she was lying. She felt she wasn't the perfect person she was brought up to be. Being perfect all the time, it wasn't her.
Tris studied herself. Her almost white blond hair falls limply to her shoulders. Her thin lips almost pressed in a frown, not that she was angry or unhappy it was just how her lips placed themselves, unfortunately. She scowled as she looked at her elongated nose that didn't compliment her small blue eyes. Then she looked wearily at her figure. Nothing astonishing there either. She was nearly flat chested and no curves in sight. She looked birdlike. Like a child.
Tris wasn't pretty. Tris wasn't striking. She was just an ordinary girl who was going to lead an ordinary life. Get her degree, earn a fair living, maybe find someone that suited her nicely and be part of her own family. It wouldn't be love, it would be convenient. She knew that her life wasn't going to be a memorable one, she was just your average girl.
She sighed and slipped into her dull clothes. She completed all her mundane tasks to make her look presentable enough and with another sigh she walked out the door.
Meanwhile, a boy, a man really, scowled as a trickle of sweat fell from his brow. His arms ached as he lifted the weight above him.
Enough, he decided. The boy placed the weight on it's stand and pushed his hair from his damp forehead.
"112 this time. I'm impressed." The beautiful girl from the reception speaks from behind him.
This girl, Rosie Parker, always observes this boy. Every morning he comes and she tries to sneak into his heart with her alluring smile and those glistening deep brown eyes. He is her new project. But he isn't fooled. He knows what happens when you get involved with girls like her.
She sweeps her lushious red hair behind her shoulder and smiles sweetly.
He smiles back politely.
"I got this for you," Rosie says seductively as she walks up and hands him a glass of water.
As he feels the cool water being pressed into his hand he realises just how thirsty he really is.
"Thanks," he says sincerely before gulping down the refreshing water.
Rosie is staring at him again and he begins to feel a bit uneasy.
She places her perfectly pedicured hand onto his firm forearm.
"All better?" she purrs.
"Erm… yeah," he mutters as he casually shrugs her hand off. "I better be going thanks for the water."
"Your welcome! See you tomorrow Four!" she calls after him as he pushes the door open into the changing rooms.
He glances at his wristwatch and swears under his breath.
He has fifteen minutes to get to his lecture.
Four begins to peel off his shirt and groans when he realises he's going to need a shower.
I can't go to a public place smelling like this.
He races to the showers and curses yet again.
This is going to be third time he's been late and his professor is disliking him more and more by the day.
He pulls on his jeans and his old, navy sweatshirt and runs out the door. Swinging his bag over his shoulder he waves at Rosie and rushes to his jeep. Maybe if he's lucky he might make the last half hour.
Tris yawns and puts her head in her hands as she listens to Professor Green drone on about percentages. She knows she's meant to be listening but his monotonous tone makes it very difficult. Instead she focuses on the flickering light above his head.
Business is her back-up plan. She never really liked it but her parents approve and Tris was brought up to please people even if it is her life choices. She hates how friendly she was made to be, it doesn't suit her but old habits die hard.
Her attention is brought away from the light when she hears the slam of the door.
Walking in is the infamous Three, or Four. Shes not certain.
What a peculiar name. Why would someone be called after a number?
"Look who it is, ladies and gentleman." Professor Green states turning to face the boy. "Master Eaton. And why, may I ask, are you late for the third time?"
He scratches the back of his head, staring at the floor.
"I got held up," he mumbles. "Won't happen again."
"Ah yes, that's what you said the time before and the time before that." He says staring at the boy before him who now has a stern expression on is chiseled features and is looking at him firmly, straight in the eye.
"It won't happen again," he says more slowly.
"Okay, well next time you're late I'm afraid you are going to have to find another business lecturer because you are constantly disrupting my class. Now take a seat." He says sternly.
Four mutters something under his breath and stomps over to the seats.
Tris watches him closely. He looks around for an empty space, each seat is filled with a person.
She glances at the seat beside her. Her bag and coat has taken it.
Tris groans inwardly as she make the decision to move her things. She doesn't want him to sit beside her. He seems intimidating with those deep blue eyes and unreliable behaviour.
Four's eyes lock on the seat then on Tris. He lets out a sigh of relief and approaches the chair.
As Four sits down Tris can see the redness on his cheeks. He dumps his bag at his feet.
"Thanks," he whispers.
She glances at him, seeing that he is looking at her, maybe waiting for a reply but Tris has decided not to talk to him. She doesn't like talking to boys like him.
Professor Green drones on and on and Four realises that he is beginning to be more conscious at the presence sitting beside him.
He begins to tap his foot impatiently. He doesn't understand why he's nervous.
He looks over at the girl's desk. There is a piece of paper and printed on the front is "Business Studies." And underneath. "Beatrice Prior."
Beatrice. So that's her name.
"Was I meant to get one of those?" he whispers towards the girl's direction, pointing to the paper.
She looks at him and nods. He finally gets to look at her properly.
She isn't pretty, but something about her makes Four want to look at her more. It's refreshing looking at her.
Suddenly her eyes flick over to him. He holds her gaze as she raises her eyebrow.
"Go on," she whispers.
Four cocks his head about to ask what she is talking about when he is snapped out of his trance.
"Eaton!" Professor Green calls.
His attention is pulled away from Beatrice to his professor who is looking as impatient as ever.
Four looks at him expectantly.
"Would you stop talking and come up here for the millionth time!" he shrieks, throwing his hands in the air.
Confused, Four jumps from his seat and goes down to his desk.
"You have to start listening," he spits as he shoves the paper Beatrice had into his hand.
Four stomps back up to his seat, slightly flushed.
Today is not my day, he thinks to himself.
Four slumps down in his seat and lets out a long sigh as he looks at his sheet.
Business Studies.
Tobias Eaton.
He curses under his breath again.
How many times to I have to tell them my name is Four, he thinks as he grabs a pen and scribbles out Tobias and scrawls in his messy handwriting the name he prefers.
"I thought your name was Four." Tris whispers in a hoarse voice. She clears her throat and looks at him from the corner of her eye.
"It is," he replies, dismissing the question and pretending he is listening to the lecture. He finds he doesn't want to talk to this girl if she makes him feel uncomfortable.
"Why did it say Tobias then?" she persists, looking at him straight on.
Four feels taken a back for a second with her full attention on him.
"Maybe they got mixed up," he says, still trying to focus on what's going on with the lecture.
Tris tried to block Four out but she simply couldn't. She can see his figure in the corner of her eye and she can just make out his profile. He has unruly dark brown hair, deep blue eyes and a straight nose that suited his features perfectly. She hated to admit it but he was extremely handsome.
"Right ladies and gentleman," Green grunted, obviously fed up with the day already. "I have an assignment for you all. I want you to create a product and try to sell it to me. It sounds straight forward enough but let me assure you, it's not. Everything is explained in the leaflet. You will be partnered up with the person you are sitting next to, to save the hassle of me partnering you up and since I'm feeling generous there will be a prize, no idea what it is yet. Now scram, class is over."
Tris sits for a minute to let everything process and then she groans inwardly when it forms in her mind.
"Oh! I forgot. It's due in next month." Green calls over his shoulder as he prances out the door.
Tris refrains from putting her head in her hands and just lets out a loud sigh. She turns to face Four and smiles, but it was more like a grimace.
"I guess we're partnered up then," she says as she begins to pack up her stuff.
"I guess so," he replies.
He's not very talkative, or very pleasant either.
"I suppose we need some means of contact then," Tris says.
Four nods and Tris tries not to roll her eyes. She grabs a pen and tears a corner off a sheet of paper. She scribbles down her number and shoves it in his hand.
She is surprised to find that his hand is warm, she wants to keep her hand there and cherish the warmth but of course she yanks it away before he notices anything.
Four stands up quickly and stretches out his hand. The feeling of her small, delicate fingers on his calloused hand felt strange and he didn't know if he liked it or not.
Tris stands up as well and Four observes the height difference, she is nearly a head smaller than him and he can't help noticing how perfectly she would fit into his arms.
He shakes the thought out of his head and he could feel his cheeks heating up.
Tris takes her bag in her hand and flings I over her shoulder.
"I'm Tris," she says, forcing herself to smile.
"I thought it was Beatrice," Four says, immediately regretting it the moment it passed his lips.
"Yeah, it is," she says with a puzzled look. "But I prefer to be called Tris."
"That's… em… great." He says before wincing at his awful reply.
"Yeah," she says with a hint of laughter. "We can get a drink tomorrow and talk about how the hell we're going to get this done, bye Tobias." she says as she squeezes past him, avoiding awkwardly touching him.
"It's Four," he calls after her as she makes her way down the steps.
Tris doesn't reply and smiles to herself but quickly wipes it away before anyone could see.
Four watches her closely as she makes her way out the door. He watches the way her long blond hair swings back and forth and the way her slightly too big shoes slip off her feet and the way she walks, like a bird about to take flight.
He sighs and pushes his brown hair from his forehead.
He wasn't sure if this month was going to be the worst or the best month of his life.