A/N: I would love to continue with the Four POV, but I suppose I should push the plot forward, too. You guys are lucky this weekend- I am quite sick and very tired. You can expect several chapters by Monday morning.
Chapter 19
Tris
The day drags by. I can do little more than keep myself contained and avoid Christina's prying, concerned questions. I don't really feel like putting up with it right now. Ms. Matthews is standing up in the front lecturing us on something that I'll never have to know. It's not like I'm going to get a good grade anyways. I'd almost forgotten about my little project, I had been so focused on Four. Now that there's not anything to focus on between us, my mind has room for this task, even if it is a little bitter right now.
While the rest of the class scribbles down notes, I scan the classroom. I doubt she's stupid enough to keep any evidence in here, I mean, she's supposed to be the smartest woman on Earth, but it's worth a shot. On the walls, there's nothing but motivational posters, the cheesy kind that kids have a good time defacing, and the shelves are filled with just normal equipment; vials, beakers, scales, and other scientific tools. There's nothing out of the ordinary. Even on her desk, there's just an apple, a desktop computer, her cell phone, and some pencils.
Now, if I had some technological skills, I could maybe find a way to see what's in her computer without having to take the entire thing, but unfortunately, I don't. Will might have the skills to do that, but I don't think I can trust him, like that. We're not as good...friends... as Four and I are, and I can't even tell him.
I wonder about her phone, though. Maybe I could create some sort of distraction, and then nab it? Ha, like I'd be brave enough to steal my principal's phone. The absurdity almost sends me into hysterics. I manage to turn it into a single snort. Still, the whole class turns to look at me. Ms. Matthews turns her icy glare at me. It cuts into me, a steel knife shredding my brief laughter into pieces.
"Is something funny about my teachings?" She snaps.
"No, I actually find you the opposite of funny" I reply coolly. I'm surprised by my own confidence. I think it's spurred on by my anger, or maybe my nervousness.
"Would you mind staying after class again, Beatrice?" She says my name like it's a weapon. She knows that I go by Tris, but she wants to see me hurt. I scoff. I know my own friggin' name, she can't hurt me with it.
"Sure, Ms. M." I agree. A small smile plays on my lips. I'm sure everyone else thinks I'm crazy. They can think what they want.
The rest of the class crawls by, just like the rest of my day had. At the end, I stroll up to Ms. Matthew's desk. I give Christina a small nod on the way up. I don't want her to wait up for me. She recognizes the gesture with a small, worried nod of her own.
"Beatrice, I'm a little worried about you," She smiles sweetly, but her teeth glisten like knives.
"Why would that be?" I ask gruffly.
"First of all, you happen to be failing this class," I don't comment on that. "And second of all, I've heard that your family life is a bit tough."
Now I'm actually interested. "What do you mean?" I shoot.
"Well, there are some rumors spreading that your father has a hard time dealing with the stress of his job, and tends to take it out on his wife and children... physically."
Anger bubbles under the surface of my skin. I want to reach across and slap her.
"There has been no evidence of his mistreatment of his children yet, but they got a tip from someone, and they have been looking into it. And not just into your father, but into a series of other politicians as well." She assures me.
"I wonder who started such a rumor." I mutter under my breath.
At that moment, her phone buzzed. A text message pops up on the screen. I reach for it, instinctively. Realizing the opportunity that I had, I grazed over the screen as I handed the phone to her.
Tomorrow during lunch hour behind the field? The message read.
The contact didn't have a name. It was just a number, too long to have memorized in my brief glance.
Ms. Matthews reads the message, then returns her focus to me. "You may go," Her chilly voice rings through the silent room with a bleak finality. I gather my bag and storm out.
Nothing in my future is certain. I don't know what will happen to my dad. He has made a formidable enemy in Jeanine Matthews. I don't know what will happen between me and Four. I don't know if anything will happen. And most of all, I don't know what will happen to me. I don't know if I'll make it into Dauntless, or if I'll stop Jeanine or if I'll even make it out of this year alive.
I do know one thing, though. I've got a date tomorrow at lunch hour behind the fields.