I do not own anything!
Chapter 5
TRIS
I make my way to music, and almost everyone from the lunch table has music, too. Zeke and Uriah hold each other in head locks as they drag each other down the hall with Four trailing behind them. Christina and Marlene are behind them and ahead of me, talking about clothes or shoes or jewelry. Shauna comes up behind me and bumps my elbow.
"Hey, we are heading to one of the best class this place has to offer, and you look like you're walking to your execution."
This class is so popular, and I'm in here for a technicality.
"Don't mind me, nothing against music, but I'd rather be in art." I tell her.
She nods, "Well, you're in here for the semester, might as well try to enjoy it." And with that, we walk into the classroom. It has a high ceiling with pieces of fabric at top. Every wall except for one is covered with mirrors. There are bright posters all over the non-mirror wall.
"Okay class," our teacher, Ms. Reyes says as the bell rings, "take a seat." There aren't any desks, but three rows of long tables along one side. This leaves a huge space where there are numerous different instruments. I find myself sitting on the end with Christina to my right.
"Welcome to Music, we have a lot planned to do this year. I want to start by letting you know about the classroom rules, tell you all a little about myself, and introduce your quarterly project called Talent Tuesday." She continues with her introductions as I doodle in my notebook. I begin to pay attention again when she announces the project.
"Now, about that project. Each one of you will be required to do some kind of performance once a quarter. Your names will be put into a drawing and whoever gets chosen will perform; and you will all perform. And it's called Talent Tuesday because each performance will happen every Tuesday.
"You can do anything from singing a solo to a group. You can just play an instrument, or you can form some kind of band. Just make sure you do something before the end of the month. I will give you the rest of class today to sort out details, but you won't get class time like this again. Now get working."
As the class erupts in talking and forming groups, I make my way to the boxes of music. I know it was a long time ago, but my mom and I would mess around on the piano when I was younger. I am sure if I find something easy enough, I can just do that. I dig around and I find a few doable pieces.
It's been a pretty uneventful week, which I am thankful for. Every day is the same, go through the motions in each class. I've built a lunch routine; I walk with Christina, acknowledging her with whatever she is talking about, and sit down with the same people. I haven't said more than 200 words to them, but I'm not really one to make friends. Or be social. Why get close to anyone when there's the chance of getting hurt? I spend most of the time drawing and listening to my music.
I usually wait in the open space/courtyard after school drawing. When I get home it is homework, eat, draw. Tori hasn't been pushing me much to do anything, but she did say she wanted me to start working at 21U next week. Fun.
Friday rolls around and all everyone can talk about is the football game tonight. It is the first game of the regular season, and people here are really into going to games. I sit in English, the last period of the day, and no one can sit still.
Our teacher gives up on trying to teach, "All right class, I am going to introduce a project for the quarter. Each one of you took a survey on the first day of what kind of student you are. Well, I have graded them and divided you up into five different groups. Each group will get assigned a book to read; the book will depend on the group you're in. For the end of the quarter. But you must complete an analysis of the book; because it is the beginning of the year, you can work in groups, with a partner, or by yourself. Whatever you prefer. Now, I've posted the different groups on the wall and the book you will be assigned."
Everyone makes a bee line to the five separate papers on the wall. There is a white paper, a gray paper, a blue paper, a red paper, and a black paper. I find my name on the black paper with the word DAUNTLESS written big on top. The book I have to read is The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. I don't bother looking at the other names on the list; I won't be working with anyone else. I will do this project just like I do everything else.
Alone.
I make my way to the teacher's desk to get my assigned book, but I am stopped a few times by some guys who want to work with me. I don't pay attention long enough to even hear their names, I just nod and politely tell them I'd prefer to be alone. I don't know why they'd want to partner with me, anyway. I guess I'm sort of smart, but I'm sure there are tons of other people in the group that they'd actually know to work with.
I grab my book from my teacher and make my way to my desk. I've already read this book last year in New York, but I still feel the need to skim it. I get a few pages in when I can't concentrate. I look over and there sits Four, with a couple of other girls standing around him. By the looks of things, they are trying to partner, or group up with him. They all look ridiculous; this is school, high school. He looks obviously uninterested, but they push on. They even try to bring up tonight's game with him. Why would he care? I guess he would since he goes to this school, or maybe he's on the team.
After a few minutes of their banter, I can't take it. Normally I would walk away or ignore them, but I don't back down from others anymore. And I can tell Four looks miserable, probably because he just wants to get his work done. He seems like and independent person, well I mean I don't really here him talk at lunch. But I don't talk either. Then one of them bumps into my desk and I'm done.
"Hey, some of us are trying to get our work done here. And didn't you think that some people just want to work alone? Obviously he is one of those people." I say, and I am so surprised I actually said it. I haven't said anything like that in years, but right when I begin to regret saying it, Four clears his throat.
"Yeah, with football and training, it's best that I work alone on this one. Now can you all GO AWAY." he says in such a stern voice it even scares me.
The girls get little sad faces and give me evil glares as they go back to their seats. I am about to dive back into the book when Four taps my arm.
"Thanks, for what you just did. I don't know if I could have gotten rid of them without your help."
"It was nothing really, they were acting ridiculous anyway. And you look like someone who just wants to get their work done. Let me guess, coach makes you stay after longer than anyone else to watch tapes. And half of them are irrelevant. And on top of daily practices, you train on your own." I spit out, it is like how Caleb was, I guess he still is that way at college. I cringe to myself for bringing it up, but it is such a large piece of my life, it is almost second nature.
"How did you know that?" he asks with a look of confusion and wonder in his eyes. His eyes. I am getting a real look at them now, and I am lost, but come right back. However not wholly.
"It isn't that hard to guess. I just assumed you were on the team and you have little bags under your eyes. Not to mention the fact that you don't want to work with a pretty girl, well, you must not have much time on your hands."
"Those girls don't interest me at all."
"Well that's nice to know; I would consider my idea of you drastically."
He thinks for a second before continuing, "How could you know so much. We've been eating lunch at the same table all week, and you haven't even looked at me let alone talked to me."
"Any decent person with half a brain could see that. Or maybe I don't just look at what's at the surface. I know more than anyone else that there is more to a person than what is on the surface." I say, "And I know someone who goes through all this football craziness. But if you asked me if I think it's worth it, then I would say-"
And I am cut off by the bell ringing. I got through my first week, well it's not over quite yet, but it is a good effort. I wave Four goodbye and dash out. I grab my stuff to leave and make the 10 minute walk back home. I plop down on the couch and begin to sketch the school mascot, perfecting every little detail.
Author's Note
I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I've started the next chapter and I am really excited about the next one, too. (FourTris!) Also, because I'm nice, I have a sneak peak of the next chapter!
Be brave, everyone!
SNEAK PEEK: I ponder his question for a second. I feel a line blurring in front of me. I promised myself I would not open up at all. I am about to shrug the question off until I look into his eyes, and I feel safe... but I'm never safe. I'm always going to be haunted, even if the threat is hundreds of miles away; the nightmares are always holding on with a tight grip. He must see me zone out, because he takes a step closer and puts a hand on my arm. I can't help but like the closeness. I feel like I really can trust him with a little piece of who I am. And if I am bland enough, it won't count.
