A/N- Hi guys! (I know, I need to get you guys a name... suggestions, anyone?) So this is my first fanfiction, and I am just trying it out to see if I want to pursue writing. It takes place in Chicago still, but in our world. Like, right now. This chapter is really short, I know, but take it easy on me, okay? I'm just starting out on this.

Don't forget to comment on anything you would like me to change, or just comment to give your thoughts. That would be extremely appreciated. I'll try to do comment responses at the beginning of the next chapter. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Beatrice's POV

"Beatrice, wake up!"

I groaned, flipped onto my stomach, and covered my head with my pillow, attempting to block out the familiar voice. Why can't he just leave me alone? It's a Sunday, I thought as someone shook me. Peeking out from underneath my pillow, I got a quick view of my older brother, Caleb, standing with a smirk on his face, victorious. I was now awake, and he knew it.

"Caleb, get out. I am obviously trying to sleep here." I huffed, greatly displeased by my brother's enduring smirk. "Leave me alone," I added, in case he didn't get the memo.

I waited for him to leave, until he started tickling, me, yelling, "Aww, does poor, baby Beatwice not want to go to high school? Scawed to weave middle school, are we?" in his best baby voice.

I shot up, nearly taking off Caleb's nose with my head as I rushed to the other side of my room to look at my calendar. Damn it, it really is Monday, isn't it, I thought as I leaned all my weight against my brother, trying to shove him through the door. When he was finally out, I shut the door, and heard a satisfying click as the lock shifted into place.

I ignored Caleb's request for a thank you for 'saving my skinny little butt', as he put it, as I made my way towards the mirror I had set up in my room. Holy hell, I look like a tornado put into a blender, I observed, frowning at my impossible bedhead and the bags under my too wide blue eyes. I almost didn't see the new, huge pimple on my hairline. I'll really have to haul butt to get myself ready in time for the first day of high school.

I shuffled through my closet, trying to pick out something to wear. Nothing too bright, but nothing too dark, either… I thought, as I pulled out a gray tank that advertised my favorite band, Fall Out Boy, and a pair of light skinny jeans. I set them out on my nightstand before stepping into a cold shower.


I wrapped a towel around my hair after I pulled on my clothes. I decided to put on a little makeup, just some mascara, eyeliner, and blush, then did my best to cover up that nasty pimple. I proceeded to take the towel off my head, letting my long, blonde hair tumble down my back. After the shower, it didn't look even half as bad as it did when I woke up, so I just pulled a brush through it and twisted it up into my signature bun. There, I thought, now I look halfway decent.

I trudged down the stairs to find my whole family already eating breakfast. My father looked up from the paper and said, "Beatrice, honey, you better get moving or you'll be late. You were in the shower for a really long time."

"Sorry. I must have dozed off in the shower. I'll try to hurry," I responded, glancing at the clock in the kitchen. I tried to do mental math, on a Monday morning, while getting breakfast. It took me a while to get it but... wait, can that be right? I really have to leave in… six minutes? Crap! I thought, as Caleb sent me a wicked smile, taunting me. I still had to pack my bag, eat, brush my teeth, and be out the door by eight. I, as Caleb knew, was doomed.

"You know what? I think I'll just eat this on my way… I really need to go…" I said, to no one in particular.

"That's fine, sweetheart," my loving mother said, "Just don't forget to bring the food to the shelter on your way. They really need our help, now that their President moved. Shame, she was a nice lady, too,"

I visibly blanched. I had completely forgotten about that! That cut my time to leave in half! I sprinted up the stairs, tripping over the top step as I rushed into my room. I frantically shoved my binder and my books into my old, worn, messenger bag. It was sad, really. The strap was frayed, since it was a hand-me-down from Caleb, and what was once a nice, deep, blue was faded into a dull blue. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. It still smelled like Caleb's cleats for soccer. On second thought, I shoved in a stick of deodorant and my gym shoes, since I would be wearing my gladiator-style sandals.

I practically ran into the bathroom, not even stopping as I whipped my toothbrush out of it's holder and slathered on the paste, hastily shoving it into my mouth. I'm gonna be so late! I thought, still brushing my teeth as I retrieved my iPhone from under my bed. I shoved it into my back pocket, not even stopping to unlock the screen. I grabbed my earbuds from my nightstand, placing them in the pocket of my bag along with my phone charger. I went through a mental checklist, making sure I had everything while I rinsed out my mouth. No time to floss, oh well.

I grabbed my bag, running down the stairs, snagging the bag of food for the homeless shelter as I sprinted out the door, straight into a pedestrian. I swear, my clumsiness gets worse by the second, I thought as I fell painfully on my butt in the middle of the sidewalk. My bag ripped open, my books spilling everywhere along with the canned food. My face fell. Now I would definitely be late. At least my phone didn't break, I thought, trying to see the bright side.

"Need some help?' a deep voice rumbled as I tried to scoop my books back into my bag. I looked up, and found myself staring at what I could only describe as the hottest guy I had ever seen. His hair was dark, almost black, and he had beautiful, deep set, dark blue eyes. His chiseled muscles stood out on his tanned skin, showing through his tight shirt. My eyes drifted back to his face, noting the scar on his chin (I wonder where he got that?) and the frown on his face. Holy crap, he has a book bag, does he go to my school? What grade is he in? Do we have any classes together? Dear Lord, I hope not, after this, I thought as he bent down to pick up the cans from the sidewalk.

"―know you? You look familiar, what grade are you in?" he asked. My eyes widened as I realized he was talking to me.

"Oh, um, I'm a freshman," I mumbled, my cheeks turning bright red as I scrambled to my feet. When a look of confusion crossed his face, I repeated myself, only louder.

"I know, I heard you, it's just that I'm almost certain I know you from somewhere. Oh, I'm a junior, by the way. What's your name?"

"Beatrice," I said, but then quickly added, "but my friends call me Tris. What's your name?"

"Four," he said softly, so soft I almost missed it.

In my head, I was thinking, Four? What kind of a name is that? I wonder what his real name is, but I forced myself to nod and pull my bag over my shoulder. If there was anything my parents taught me, it was to be kind to others, no matter who they were. Even if I was an introvert that didn't like talking to hot guys I just embarrassed myself in front of on the street.

"So, do you go to Chicago High?" he asked, receiving only a nod from me as a sign that I did. We started toward the high school. It was only half a mile away, easy walking distance. "What classes do you have?"

I supposed I couldn't get out of this one, so I responded with a quick answer. "AP Math III, Self-Defense, Honors English II, and Honors Chemistry. In that order."

His face lit up, showing dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. "Hey! We have all our classes together!" he paused, frowning. "Wait, no, I'm not smart enough to be in your math class. But we have three classes together!"

When I didn't respond, he got the message, and backed off. He didn't speak again until I turned to walk up the stairs to the door of the homeless shelter to drop off my food. He, in an annoyingly cute way, followed me up the steps when he realized I wasn't beside him anymore.

"Now I know why you have canned beans and tuna in your school bag. Makes sense," he commented as he darted in front of me to open the door. When I gave him a questioning look, he simply said that most people wouldn't take the time to do something that generous.

"Yeah, my parents sort of beat it into me to be selfless as a child," I said, looking at my feet, as that pulled out memories of me having to share my treats with the kids in Pre-K. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him flinch when I said the word 'beat'. I didn't think much of it, though, and continued to the front desk.

"Tris! You're back!" shouted the voice of one of my favorite people. I looked up to see Tori doddering towards me, a wide smile plastered on her face. The sight of her melted my heart. I had known Tori for as long as I could remember. I was practically raised by her. "We haven't seen you for a week! What's up? Oh, Tris, is this your boyfriend?"

(A/N, yeah I know she isn't that old, I just needed someone here, and it is a fanfiction, so I can do what I want :))

I laughed at her attempt to be cool and told her about the busy week I had getting ready for school. I made sure to mention that I had just met him, and was not, in fact, dating him. I handed her the bag of food and filled out a form, saying what I donated and how much. A couple of the regulars that used the shelter came out and said hi to me. It was so humbling to be around them.

I had forgotten Four was there until he tugged at my elbow, insisting we would be late if I took another minute. As soon as his warm, calloused hand brushed my arm, I felt like I had been electrocuted. I froze up, stuck in shock.

"Tris?" he said, frowning. "You home?"

My face turned bright red as my muscles unlocked. I quickly turned away, not wanting him to see my face when it was that red. I quickly said my goodbyes and we made our way out.

We walked in silence for a couple blocks, and I dropped a couple steps behind him. Part of a tattoo peeked out from the back of his black shirt, but I couldn't tell what it was supposed to be. I admired the curve of his back, along with the defined muscles that bulged against his shirt. He was wearing loose-fitting black army pants, tucked into combat boots, paired with a tight black shirt. He didn't look like he belonged in high school. He looked like a soldier with his close-cropped hair.

Almost as if he could see me looking, he turned around with a smirk on his face. "Like what you see?" he taunted. I stopped dead. I could feel the hot blood rushing to my face, but I forced it away.

"No, you wish though, don't you?" was the only thing I could think of at the moment. I expected him to laugh at the second-grade level retort, but instead, his eyes wandered over my face. He muttered something, but I couldn't quite hear it. He turned away, defeated. It was odd, but I didn't care.

I trotted to catch up with him. "Hey! I thought about it, and I think I know how you recognized me. Maybe you know my father. Andrew Prior? He's on the state Board. I've been told we look alike, though I'm not so sure."

Four shrugged. "Maybe." His face darkened. "My father is on the Board as well. Marcus Eaton?"

"Eaton? Yeah, I know him. My dad talks about him all the time. I swear he's in love or something." I made a face, then did my best 'dad' voice. "'Kids, have you met Mr. Eaton? You should aspire to be like him. Excellent role model, he is. I was talking to him the other day. He was telling me about his plans for the state. Genius, that man. So selfless, you know.' Ugh, no offense, but I don't think anyone can be that great. Is he?" I asked Four.

This was the first time I had looked him in the face since I started to mock my father. His face looked pained, like just listening to me was hard for him. He turned away, fists clenched. "He's not." His response was short and closed off. I got the message and dropped the subject. Dad said something about him having a son… What was his name again? It's probably Four, but I want to know his real name…I wonder why Four doesn't use his real name...I wonder who he got his stunning looks from, because I know it sure as hell wasn't his dad...

Over the hill, the roof of the school was visible. Chicago High wasn't anything special, just bricks and windows, like any other school. We had a statue out front of our founder, Jeanine Matthews, but most people didn't like her. A bunch of seniors marred it so badly with shovels it had to be taken down.

Craning my neck, I tried to get a view of the front lawn so I could find Christina. We had been texting about this day for weeks! I never got the chance to see her, apart from school, and she was my best friend. She is the sweetest, bubbliest person you'll ever meet.

As we got to the peak of the hill, I spotted her. She was talking to Will, the guy she had started dating over the summer. She was obsessed with him. She sent me selfies of her and Will at parties, the park, and even some from her dates. She was moving her hands through the air wildly as she presumably told him an exaggerated tale of some sort.

I waved frantically at her to get her attention, with a smile on my face that probably made me look slow. She saw me over Will's shoulder and started to smile, but then her face changed to one of panic. Her mouth dropped open, and when Will turned around to see what she was gaping at, his face was a perfect imitation of hers.

I frowned. What's wrong with them? I thought, turning to Four to ask him if I looked okay. It would be embarrassing if I showed up on the first day of school, looking like a clown. But when I turned to look at him, he had the same expression on his face as when I had brought up his father. Deciding not to say anything because of how stressed he looked, I turned and started walking down the hill to meet Christina and Will.

I was halfway down when I realized Four wasn't following me. In fact, I couldn't see him anywhere. It was like he had vaporized into thin air. He hadn't told me goodbye, and I hadn't even heard him leave. Strange, I thought, but he probably has other friends here that he wants to see. But somehow I knew that wasn't right. He hadn't called out to anyone or made any sign of knowing anyone here. It was like Chris and Will scared him away. Oh well. He can take care of himself.