Author's Note: The feedback I'm getting is absolutely awesome! Thanks for your support guys! We're back to Tris' POV for a few chapters now, but if there is a particular chapter you want in Four's POV, just let me know! Hope you enjoy!:')

Oh just so you know, I'm British and this is set in America. I don't know much about America so if I get some things wrong or some of the dialogue sounds rather British, I'm awfully sorry!

THERE MAY BE SOME SWEARING IN THIS CHAPTER OOOOOH.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Divergent.

Tris' POV.

I compose myself quickly and head down the corridor to my Chemistry class, keeping my head down.

'I won't always be around to get you out of these situations.'

Four's words echo in my head. What the hell is that even supposed to mean? Bursting into the lab, my teacher glares at me.

"You're late Tris." Mrs Thompson states.

Shuffling to my seat, I mumble an almost inaudible apology. I drop my bag to the floor and pull out my notebook after slumping into my seat. I scrawl down notes on fractional distillation and crude oil, the occasional yawn escaping from my lips.

Half way through class, I hear the desk behind me creak slightly.

"Four won't always be around to save you, not like he'd want to again anyway; the shit he got from Peter for doing so has probably put him off talking to you forever." I feel someone's hot breath beside my ear.

I spin around and see Eric glaring at me. I shuffle uncomfortably in my seat and turn back to the front. When class ends, I gather my stuff together as quickly as possible, hoping to avoid another confrontation. I spot Christina giggling loudly; I crane my head to see who she's with. Will, of course. I smile to myself and shake my head slightly, deciding she'd prefer it if I left them to themselves. I wandered to French class, walking through the already ajar door.

Before I realise what's happening, I hit the floor. I hear loud cackling and turn my head slightly; realising Four just tripped me up. He's grinning smugly as his friends compliment him. I feel my cheeks flush a bright red.

"You might want to watch where you're going next time Stiff." He spits at me, kicking my messenger bag towards where I lie crumpled on the floor.

"Fuck you Four." I mumble, seizing my bag and walking right to the back corner of the classroom next to Uriah, who's looking sympathetically at me. I give him a look that says 'don't bother' and sit in my chair, burying my head in my hands in frustration.

I hate him. I hate him so fucking much.

After two torturous hours of French, consisting of Four finding new ways to annoy me every five minutes, Uriah and I walk out of class and make our way to the cafeteria. We weave ourselves through the array of tables, chairs and people, trying not to bump into anyone. The tables are peppered with people.

The cafeteria is a place you could really see the clicks of high school. The nerds, my brother included, sit by the door, clearly so they can escape to class with ease, the band geeks sit by the bins and the popular kids sit in the centre of it all. My friends however, we all sit at a small table in the corner, next to a window, a simple way to avoid the chaos of everyone clambering around.

"Hey guys." I mumble, perching on a stool in between Marlene and Christina. They launch into conversation about football try-outs coming up, rowdily laughing and making bets who will get on the team. I tune out, football doesn't interest me in the slightest. I begin to fiddle with my hair, searching for split ends when all of a sudden, I'm covered in pasta.

Gasps echo around the cafeteria before everyone goes silent. I slowly stand up and turn around to see Four standing there, laughing at me as I stand here wearing his lunch.

"Oops." He smirks.

My breathing increases rapidly, my fists clench at my sides. My face is burning due to humiliation. Before I can process what I'm doing, I lift my hand back and punch him straight on the nose. More gasps erupt around the room as Four staggers backwards and falls onto a table behind him, clutching his nose as scarlet tears of blood flow out of it.

"What the fuck Stiff?!" He yells.

"Stay away from me you fucking twat!" I yell, running my now very sore hand through my hair, pasta falling out of it. I take one glance around at the entire student body staring at me before angrily storming out of the cafeteria.

I hears cheers echoing as I pick up my pace and run to the girls bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, covered in pasta. I bite my lip.

Don't cry Tris. Don't.

I continuously warn myself not to cry as I slowly pull the pasta out of my blonde locks, discarding it into the sink in front of me. A sniffle pathetically as I rummage in my bag for my brush. I begin to stroke my hair with the brush harshly when I hear the door creak open.

I spin around quickly and my eyes are met with cold, angry ones.

Lauren.

Author's Note: Is this a cliffhanger? Hm idk. ANYWAY. I hope you like it, not sure how I feel about this chapter, it took me an hour to write guys ah I wrote and re-wrote it like four times. I'd be so appreciative if you reviewed! PLUS! If I get enough reviews, I may put another chapter up tonight! (GMT Time), but that's only if I get enough reviews. But yeah, thanks for all the favourites, follows and current reviews, you guys make me smile yayyy! THANKS FOR READING THOUGH AWWWWWWWH.