Uppdddddaaattttteeeeee tttiiimmmmmeee! Sorry for the delay, too busy stalking people in Abercrombie with my friends for no good reason.
Disclaimer: Me no own Divergent, unfortunately.
TRIS POV
My first class, English, was completely uneventful. My teacher, Mr. Bud, is pretty awesome, so that's good. At least I won't completely hate English. Christina is dragging me to French, and I'm not really looking forward to it. We round a corner onto the French hallway, but we accidentally bump into a dark-skinned tall boy. He's handsome, but he doesn't seem like my type. Now that I think about it actually, I don't know what my type even is. Someone that's not like Caleb, I can tell you that.
"Sorry," the boy apologizes, his eyes unfocused. I wonder briefly if he's high, then his eyes refocus, and he holds out his hand. "Are you new here? I haven't seen you around before, and I know everyone," He says, winking. I roll my eyes, and shake his hand.
"Tris. I am new here, and you're excused." He smirks, and responds,
"Uriah. Nice to meet you, Tris. See you around," He says, winking again. I blink, and Christina tugs me along. I learn, however, that she's perfectly capable of talking and walking at the same time.
"Did you see him winking? Did you hear his tone of voice? He totally likes you! Do you like him back?" She asks all in one breath, and when she does breathe, I'm about to respond, but she just keeps going. She manages to keep this up until we get to French, doing so right before the bell rings. A boy at the back snickers at our near tardiness, and I narrow my eyes to find the rude boy from earlier, Peter. Christina glares at him, and I find myself glaring with her.
Her eyes widen, as she realizes the last two seats are at a table with a blond boy with a crease in between his eyebrows, and a tall dark haired one with dark blue one.(yes, I made Four the same age as Tris for this story. But they're already in high school, might as well make it even more AU, right?) She holds her breath, and she grabs my arm and marches us toward the table. She plops herself into the seat next to the blond one, and promptly says,
"Will. I'm sorry; I don't know you're friend here." She says, nodding at the dark haired boy. I sense some nervousness in her voice, and I realize she must like this Will person.
"Four," the dark haired one says, and I faintly wonder, why is his name a number? Christina voices my thoughts before I can, however, and Four scowls at her.
"It is the way it is, alright?" He snaps. I scowl and glare at Four. There's no need to be rude. We just met you, and your name is a number. Of course we're going to question it. Christina nudges me under the table, and I turn to face her, and I see a smile on her face, though it seems a little forced. It seems to be more about Will than Four though, and I smile back at her. We all face the teacher, and we don't speak for the rest of French class.
We don't learn much, just that the teacher wants us to call her Tori, and that Four is still completely rude. I don't like him very much, and I try to make that as obvious as possible. Later in the class, we are told we will be assigned a project next class, and we will pick our partners then. The bell rings, and I gratefully get up, heading for the door.
I'm just about to leave when I hear someone call,
"Blondie! Yo, Blondie! Girl who sat with me at her table!" I slowly turn around, and see Four walking towards me. I scowl, and turn away, fully prepared to walk away from him and this conversation. I proceed to walk through the door, and he soon falls into step beside me, and I notice he has to slow down a bit to match my short strides. This causes me to scowl even more, and I walk faster, forcing him to walk normally.
"What? Do you want to apologize for being a complete jerk earlier?" I say, a sarcastic smile on my face. He frowns, and grabs my arm, turning me towards him, stopping us both in the middle of the hallway.
"Look," He says sighing, running a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but me. I tap my foot impatiently. "I just don't like people questioning my name. Wouldn't you hate it if everyone commented on your name?"
"I didn't comment." I say, smirking. He catches on, and smirks right back.
"I never learned your name, you know. I know Christina, but definitely not you. Are you new here?" He asks cautiously.
"I'm Tris, and I just moved here. Chicago is really different from Miami, trust me," I say, laughing a little. He gives a small smile, and I notice that he hasn't smiled since I've met him.
Sorry, can't find no inspiration for this chapter. "That's a double negative." "That's a lot of negatives." Sorry, can't stop quoting Pitch Perfect! If you haven't seen it, watch it!
~Natacha
