Shell With No Soul
Check out my other story, 'I Try' if you like this one :)
Tris P.O.V.
I almost feel bad for the kids at my new school. Almost. For having to deal with me, and all. Hopefully they aren't preppy. Then they'll really hate me. But who cares? I certainly don't. I gave up on the thought of people actually liking me. But with my past, they won't want to get involved with a criminal. After all, I did spend my sophomore year of high school in juvenile detention. Also known as "young people prison." But that's not important. As of now, I'm riding on my motorcycle to Shedd High School, and it's my first day of my senior year, as well as everyone else's. I moved here around mid-July. My mom works for social services, traveling for what purposes, I don't know, so she's hardly ever home. As for my father… Let's not talk about that. So, the reasoning for getting in trouble, I have no one watching over me. Nope, not even my brother, he's off at Stanford University studying to be a doctor. I bet you can guess who the golden child is. I don't get in trouble for the attention, no. I do it for the thrill in my veins, and adrenaline coursing through me. I can barely even process what I'm doing. But as for what I did to get into juvy… That was different.
As I walk through the parking lot of bickering teens and gossiping girls, Lies of Beautiful People by Sixx A.M. comes on 99.7, the local rock station. I turn it up louder than life, literally. If I didn't have my eyes open I wouldn't be aware of anything around me. I am aware of the intense stares I'm getting, but I keep walking along. It's probably because I'm wearing all black and my music is being heard all the way in Indiana.
I already told myself I wasn't making any friends. I only have one, and that's Lynn from juvy. She was awesome. She got out a month before me, and moved somewhere here in Chicago. But making friends is too risky, so I decided that I'm not. Simple as that.
I turn my music down as I approach the front desk. "Beatrice Prior." I wince at my real name, it truly is awful.
"…Here we go." She hands me my schedule. As my eyes scan over it, she says, "Would you like for me to call someone the show you around? Maybe make a few friends?" She grabs the phone.
"No." I walk away. My locker is number 486, all the way on the other end of the school.
As I get my locker situated, I hear a girly voice say, "Are you new?"
"Yes." I don't bother looking up from my bookbag.
"Do you need help finding your way around?"
"Nope," I say, popping the p.
"Well…" she says awkwardly. I finally look up, annoyed, and see a pretty girl with mocha skin, good complexion, short black hair, and crooked bottom teeth and straight top ones. "Um, let me know if you need anything. My name is Christina."
"Okay." I walk away, towards Earth Science. The girl, Christina, catches up with me. I discreetly roll my eyes.
"Where you headed?"
"Earth Science," I say, jaded.
"Me too. Can I see your schedule?" she asks elatedly.
"Maybe another time," I dismiss her as I walk inside. I sit in the very back, farthest away from the teacher's desk and almost everyone else.
Christina plops down next to me. I internally groan. "So, what's your name?"
"Tris," I say, disinterested.
"Well, Tris, tell me about yourself."
This girl is insistent isn't she? "I like music," I say blandly.
"You're a very closed-off person aren't you?" she suspiciously eyes me.
"Sure am." I cross my arms and give her a sideways glance.
"What'd you do that was so bad?" she narrows her eyes.
"Do you really want to know the answer to that question?" I ask.
"Yeah. I do."
I raise my eyebrows. "Good luck with that," I deride.
"What's your last name?" she suddenly asks.
"Why, so you can look me up on the internet later?"
"Maybe," she shrugs. "Or I could possibly be an undercover spy wanting to know your real name," she chuckles but I keep a straight face.
Then three idiots come in the room arguing about the FIFA. "No! Argentina should have won. I will always be on their side," a guy with dark-blue eyes says.
"Ignore them. They always talk about," she dramatically pauses. "Sports."
Then I decide to say to the boys, "Actually, yes, Argentina should have given more. Lionel Messi had a great game. I really felt bad for Brazil though because Neymar. Well, that and they lost 7-1 against Germany in their home country. How much would that suck? And can you believe Pepe's red card against Thomas Muller though? Pepe always has a temper. He's such a douche," I finish and they all gape.
"But… you're a girl," a handsome boy with bronze skin says. The other one is most likely his brother. "You're a girl and you know all of that. This is illogical!" he grins.
"Could you be any more sexist? That's such a dick-ish move. What are you going to say next, that I throw like a girl? 'Cause I'll prove you wrong about that too," I say and then roll my eyes at him.
I face forward and Christina says, "Uriah, you're such an idiot. That's Zeke, Uriah's brother, and Four, Tris."
I don't look towards them. I just say, "Wonderful."
"Is Tris a nickname?" I think Four asks, you can by his voice.
"Is Four a nickname?" I shoot back.
"Touché."
"Where the hell is the teacher already?" I mumble, but apparently Zeke hears me.
"She's always like ten minutes late. And they bell hasn't rung yet, so we still have about fifteen minutes left."
I don't respond, I just take my phone out of my pocket and turn on my music. I take out my notebook and sketch. I feel someone take the right earbud out of my ear, it's Chris. I just snatch it back and turn it up. I hear someone shout something in my ear.
"What do you want?" I ask angrily.
"You listen to Metallica?" Uriah asks enthusiastically.
"Yeah?" I shrug and continue drawing with my music on.
"Tris!" someone yells.
I take my earbuds out and say, "What?"
"Teacher's coming," Zeke warns. I wrap up my earbuds around my phone in the middle of Master of Puppets by Metallica.
"What's your favorite song by them?" Uriah asks.
"Master of Puppets."
"Mine is Harvest of Sorrow."
"Magnificent," I say sarcastically.
"So—" Four begins, but is soon cut off.
"Class!" A woman with watery grey eyes says, "My name is Mrs. Matthews, and we have a new student this year, her name is B—"
"Tris," I interrupt.
"Well, Tris, tell us about yourself."
"I like music," I repeat what I said to Christina.
"Anything else?" she says, motioning for me to go on.
"I like rock music."
"Okay then. What bands?"
She doesn't know when to stop, does she? "Metallica, Apocalyptica, Seether."
"Okay. On with the lesson…" she begins rambling on about the Earth, trees, water conservation, etc. It goes on and on and on.
Finally it's time for orchestra, it'll probably be the one and only part of school I enjoy. I brought my bass yesterday to school so I didn't have to haul it here this morning. I have my mom's bass at home, too, so I can keep that one here. I take it out of its bag. It is a shiny black, unlike the others, whose are wooden colored. We get a few songs, pretty easy looking, if you ask me. I've played it my whole life, even though it's about twice my size. Sometimes I feel like a bass myself. I have a shell on the outside, but I'm hollow on the inside. I have become a shell with no soul.
I'm currently waiting in the lunch line for a PB&J. I carry my phone with me at all times, so I unravel my earbuds and put on my Seether playlist I illegally downloaded. I finally get my sandwich and sit in the corner of the cafeteria alone. When I finish my sandwich and lean back in my chair. I close my eyes momentarily and feel the table shaking. I open my eyes to see Christina.
"Want to sit with us?" she points over to a table with a few people.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because."
"Fine." She gets up, still smiling, but this time evilly.
I put my earbuds back in and start reading on my phone. I feel a shakier movement from when Christina sat down. I look up to see Four grinning. I roll my eyes quite visibly, hoping he gets the message. I go back to reading and feel him get up. Thank god. And then he sits next to me. Glorious. I slide over to the next chair. He scoots with me. I scoot. He scoots. I run out of room to move.
"What the hell do you want?" I ask with venom.
"Want to sit with us?"
"No! Go away!" I wave him off.
"I'm okay," he annoyingly shrugs. He takes my left earbud across my body. He nods. "Nirvana. I like them." I don't bother responding. I just snatch my earbud back from his ear and walk to the other end of the table.
"Follow me and see what happens." Boy, if looks could kill…
"What're you going to do? Slap me?" he smirks arrogantly.
I get up from my new spot and walk to my old, but I don't stand up. "Fine. I'll go with you." I roll my eyes. He stands up. I punch him in the stomach then grab his wrist and flip him.
"What the hell?" he asks once he catches his breath.
"Leave," I glare.
He coughs. "Fine." I just now realize the entire cafeteria is staring at us and our little exchange. Except one thing. They're laughing. At Four. Probably for getting flipped by a tiny girl like me. Whoever thinks I'm weak is very very wrong, obviously. Looks can be deceiving.
Suddenly I feel a large rumble at my table. I look up and see Christina, Four, Uriah, Zeke, two guys who I don't recognize, and two girls I don't recognize. I angrily roll my eyes and keep reading. I don't even care anymore.
Then I hear a "Tris, Metallica sucks!" from Zeke.
Now this gets my attention. I rip out my earbuds. "You son of a motherf—"
"Kidding! I just needed to get your attention. This is Al—"
"I don't want to be friends with any of you!"
"Not even me?" I voice says behind me.
I whip around and see Lynn. "Oh my god!" I hug her. "It's been so long."
"I know. So how you been?" she sits down, pushing Four out of his seat.
"Eh. I got these idiots bugging me."
"You realize we aren't going to stop." I look up and see Four saying that, smirking.
"You guys can try, and try, and try, but you do not want to be friends with me. You don't know my background, or my history with the law, so trust me. I will get you into trouble, that's guaranteed. You want to know my background? My full name is Beatrice Prior. Look it up, you'll find out what I've done. And you'll sure as hell change your mind." I get up and walk out. I have break fifth period, so I walk out to the football stadium bleachers without Lynn or anybody else. I try to clear my head of my thoughts, but it doesn't work. They will most likely leave me alone after they find out about me.
But one can only hope.
Four P.O.V.
(A/N I hardly ever do the same situation with different P.O.V's so bare with me, here.)
I wake up to the sound of a blaring alarm. The first day of school. Great. I love my friends and all, but god are people annoying. Girls don't necessarily throw themselves at me, just lightly—or heavily—hit on me.
I get up and take a shower. I throw on a black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. I lace up my Jordans and head out the door with my backpack hanging on my shoulders. I open the door to see Zeke and Uriah's truck waiting in my driveway. Zeke and Uriah are twins—fraternal ones. Therefore, being in the same year. I get in the back seat.
"Dude, we need to continue the discussion from last night. Germany is way better than Argentina," Zeke says.
"Woah, woah, woah. Try again Zeke. Argentina is way better than them. They got lucky."
We continue bickering all the way to school, even when we get to Earth Science.
"No! Argentina should have won. I will always be on their side," I argue.
"Actually," a pretty girl with grey-blue eyes says, "Yes, Argentina should have given more. Lionel Messi had a great game. I really felt bad for Brazil though because Neymar. Well, that and they lost 7-1 against Germany in their home country. How much would that suck? And can you believe Pepe's red card against Thomas Muller though? Pepe always has a temper. He's such a douche," she finishes and we all gape. I have never met a girl who even knows who Messi is.
"But… you're a girl," Uriah says unbelievingly. "You're a girl and you know all of that. This is illogical!" he grins.
"Could you be any more sexist? That's such a dick-ish move. What are you going to say next, that I throw like a girl? 'Cause I'll prove you wrong about that too," she says sharply then rolls her eyes.
Chris says, "Uriah, you're such an idiot. That's Zeke, Uriah's brother, and Four, Tris."
"Wonderful," apparently Tris says.
"Is Tris a nickname?" I ask.
"Is Four a nickname?" she fires back without even looking at me.
"Touché."
"Where the hell is the teacher already?" she mumbles.
"She's always like ten minutes late. And they bell hasn't rung yet, so we still have about fifteen minutes left," Zeke informs.
She doesn't respond, just takes her phone out of her jeans' pocket and turns on some music. She starts drawing. Chris then snatches her earbud. Not smart, Chris. Tris just swipes it back.
"Tris, you like Metallica?" Uriah asks in awe. She doesn't seem to hear him, so he shouts.
"What do you want?"
"You listen to Metallica?" Uriah asks enthusiastically.
"Yeah?" she shrugs.
"Tris!" Zeke yells.
"What?" she asks, more than annoyed.
"Teacher's coming," Zeke warns.
"What's your favorite song by them?" Uriah asks once she puts her stuff away.
"Master of Puppets."
"Mine is Harvest of Sorrow."
"Magnificent," she says bitingly.
"So—" I begin to ask her where she's from, but I'm interrupted.
"Class! My name is Ms. Matthews, and we have a new student this year, her name is B—"
"Tris," she interrupts.
"Well, Tris, tell us about yourself," Ms. Matthews urges on.
"I like music."
"Anything else?"
"I like rock music."
"Okay then. What bands?"
"Metallica, Apocalyptica, Seether."
"Okay. On with the lesson…" She begins, but my mind travels somewhere that's not here.
What's up this Tris girl? She seems jaded. I couldn't really see us being friends, even though we both are closed off from the rest of the world. I don't really know what she is… she seems interesting, but too… how do you put it… abstract. I want to evaluate her without digging too deep. I try to figure out ways in all my classes, but before I even come up with one, it's lunch. I wonder if she'll be sitting with us… It'd give me—I mean, uh, us—a chance to figure her out.
I sit down with my lunch next to Zeke.
"Now that everyone's here," Chris says, "What are we going to do to get Tris to sit with us?"
"Why don't we just leave her alone?" I ask.
"Because. I feel bad for her. She has no friends and a bad past."
"She seems like she likes that way." I shrug.
"Four," Chris glares. "Just go along with the plan. I'm going to go over there and ask her. If that doesn't work, Four will go over and—"
"Why me?" I interrupt.
"Because you're hot, and you're single. No lonely girl can resist you."
I grumble but shut up. Chris goes over there. As I observe from afar, I can already tell Tris is bitter. Chris gets up and walks back over.
"Your turn, Four."
I roll my eyes, even though I am kind of interested. I stand up, hiking over there.
I sit down across from her, grinning. She rolls her eyes and goes back to her phone.
I get up and sit next to her. If she thinks I'm going away, she's mistaken. I'm a very stubborn person.
"What the hell do you want?" she spits out.
"Want to sit with us?"
"No! Go away!" she waves.
"I'm okay," I shrug. I take her left earbud across her body. My hand faintly touches her cheek. I nod. "Nirvana. I like them." She doesn't respond, just swipes her earbud back from my ear and walks to the other end of the table.
"Follow me and see what happens."
She looks like she wants to kill me. I have to withhold a laugh. "What're you going to do? Slap me?" I smirk.
She walks over to me, not bothering to sit down. "Fine. I'll go with you." She rolls her eyes. I start to stand up, but she punches me in the stomach then grabs my wrist then flips me. Goddamn!
"What the hell?" I ask, short of breath.
"Leave." She glares daggers at me.
I cough, still winded. The force to the ground knocked my breath out of me. "Fine."
I just now notice everyone in here is laughing at me. Why don't you take a beating from her?! I want to shout, but I prohibit myself.
I hobble back to my table, all of them are smirking.
"Guess you're not as tough as you thought you were," Zeke breaks the silence.
"I was caught off guard. Now show shut up and eat your cake."
Everyone eats without a sound.
"You guys!" Chrissy squeals, "If she won't come to us, we need to come to her." She grins wickedly.
"Great idea," Al says.
"Lez go!" Uriah says. We all walk over there and have a seat.
She looks up angrily rolls her eyes and keeps doing whatever she's doing on her phone.
"Tris, Metallica sucks!" Zeke says to get her assiduity.
This gets her attention, for sure. She rips her earbuds and says, "You son of a motherf—"
"Kidding! I just needed to get your attention. This is Al—" he starts introducing us.
"I don't want to be friends with any of you!" she throws her hands up in the air.
"Not even me?" a girl, Lynn, says. She's the scariest person in school, so she doesn't have any friends. Even I'm somewhat scared of her.
"Oh my god!" she hugs her. "It's been so long."
"I know. So how you been?" she sits down, me off my seat, literally. I fall down on the ground.
"Eh. I got these idiots bugging me."
"You realize we aren't going to stop." I say, smirking.
"You guys can try, and try, and try, but you do not want to be friends with me. You don't know my background, or my history with the law, so trust me. I will get you into trouble, that's guaranteed. You want to know my background? My full name is Beatrice Prior. Look it up, you'll find out what I've done. And you'll sure as hell change your mind." She gets up and walks out, leaving Lynn with us.
"What's her deal, Lynn?" Chris asks.
"Why do you guys even care?" she brutally spits out.
"Because she's lonely. It sucks not having friends," Al says and shrugs. "I was her when I came to this school."
"You—or any one of you, for that matter—aren't anything like her. You don't know what she's been through. Go ahead and look up what she's done; you'll change your mind. Let's just say we met in juvenile detention," she finishes and walks elsewhere, back to her table, all by her lonesome.
"She was in juvy?" Will asks incredulously.
"So was Lynn, she's not that bad." I shrug.
"Yeah, but Lynn was open about what she did. Tris isn't, so that means it's something bad," Uriah says seriously.
"Since when are you thoughtful, Uriah?" Marlene asks.
He just shrugs.
"Why doesn't everyone come over to my house after school so we can look her up?" Zeke suggests.
"Should we really be prying in her background?" I ask, betwixt.
"Why, you don't?" Shauna asks.
"Well… I mean, I know what it's like when everyone wants to know everything about you, but you don't want them to perceive."
"Yeah, the mysterious Four would be perfect for the mysterious Tris. They can go on adventures together, but slowly along the way the learn more about each other and fall in love!" Uriah says. "I can see it now." His hands go up in the air. "'The Mysterious Tris and Four.' No! 'The Adventures of Fourtris.' Yes! Who's with me?" He chants, but everyone is silent, especially me.
"You are mad. Idiotic. Asinine. Demented. Shall I go on?" I say.
"No, I hear much more from Zeke every day," he whines.
The bell rings not five seconds later. I go out to the bleachers on the football field like I usually do for break. I see a girl. Tris. For now, I'll just avoid her. Our last confrontation wasn't the best. While she sits at the bottom left, I head to the top right, far as possible. Unfortunately, she feels my feet rumble through the metal of the bleachers when I'm only two stands up from her.
"W-What are you d-doing here?" She stands up nervously, almost in a defensive stance.
"I always come here for break, take it easy."
"I'll… I'll just go to the other side of the stadium." She stands up.
"Tris, hey, wait." I jog up to her and she flinches away. "You know, I wasn't really on board with the idea of looking you up on the internet. You evidently don't want us to know about it, so I respect that. I know how it feels."
"Thank you," she whispers as she looks at her shoes. "It's just really hard to trust people."
"Yeah, it's okay, I understand. But sometimes making friends is a risk you have to take." I shrug.
"Yeah… but… It's like I'm asking for drama, like I'm asking for tears. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, actually, I do. But I wouldn't trade anything in the world for what I have now. They're the ones that have got me waking up every morning. Tris, it's worth it. Trust me." She walks over to the railing above the track and rests her elbows on it, her hands holding her chin.
She shakes her head. I look into her grey-blue eyes and see that they are teary.
"Just relax—" I touch her shoulder.
"No! Don't ever say that again, and never touch me again." She races into the school.
"Was it something I said?" I say to myself sarcastically.
"Guys! C'mon!" Zeke yells from his living room.
We all come into the room through the swinging door that connects to the kitchen.
"Okay. No interruptions as I read. Okay?"
We all nod.
"Beatrice Prior, 16, convicted of shooting her father, Andrew Prior, in self-defense. She has gotten nine months in juvenile detention in Detroit, Michigan. She claims her father has been abusing her since she was about 14. Her mother, Natalie Prior, was currently at work when this happened, and her brother, Caleb Prior, beginning his first year of college at Stanford. She says that her father was trying to rape her. That was the first time he has tried to do that, she says. She also claims that he would act perfectly fine, nice, even, to Caleb and Natalie. Beatrice divulges that he'd repeatedly throw cruel words her, saying she was worthless and was never supposed to be alive. Natalie confirmed, in fact, that she was adopted. At the time, Beatrice hadn't known that she was. But it certainly reveals the reason why he had done the things he did. Beatrice was put in juvenile detention for other various reasons, like vandalism, public fighting, and shoplifting. Beatrice will be forever scarred because of the constant reminder of her father: The scars on her back of being repeatedly whipped. However, you can't help but wonder why on Earth Andrew Prior would commit such a horrendous crime."
"Oh my god," Christina whispers.
I almost have tears in my eyes myself. I wish I could stand up to Marcus like Tris had to Andrew. I don't feel pity, no. I feel admiration. I've only known her a day and she's the bravest person I have met.
"That's why," I whisper.
"Why what?" Zeke asks.
"I was talking to Tris at the bleachers fifth period. She started tearing up because she didn't know what to do. I said 'Just relax' and she freaked out. I think Andrew probably said it to while he was…" I refuse to say it.
"Genius! Why would you say that?" Chris smacks my head.
"How was I supposed to know?" I defend myself.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry. I just can't believe… and her father…" she shakes her head.
"So we definitely need to be careful around her, okay?" I say.
"Yeah. She actually thought we'd lay off." Chris chuckles.
I smirk. "It's going to be a lot harder than that."