Tobias POV:
By lunch, I am no longer focused on school, but rather on Tris. I try to sit by her in the cafeteria, but she just takes an apple from her backpack and sits next to Christina. So I try to think about what she asked me during algebra. "Smile for once. Why don't you pay attention to the pretty girls over there? Why me?" Because you're striking Tris. You don't care about what others see in you. You just want to be yourself. You don't give a crap about your appearance. I like that. You're cute the way you are and that's-
Zeke interrupts my thoughts. "Four? Are you listening? Football tryouts are tomorrow afterschool."
"Already?"
"Yeah, don't look so confused. Amar, the coach likes to start real early."
"Okay," then I start eating my sandwich.
"Four, are you looking at Tris?"
I look away, "No. Why would you think that?"
"This summer you seemed interested in her. Plus you stood up to Peter. Hey, you should ask her to Homecoming!"
"Isn't it a little early to think about that?"
"It's now or never bro. Senior year is your last chance."
"It's also my first chance here."
"Your one and only. Go on. Although Tris has never had a boyfriend before."
"And I've never had a girlfriend."
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah."
"Why not? A guy like you would get tons of girls."
I shrug, "I don't know. During math, Tris asked me why I don't pay any attention to the pretty girls that were practically throwing themselves at me."
"So you're just waiting for the right girl?"
"I guess so. Hey, why don't you ask Shauna?"
Zeke blushes deeply.
Tris POV:
After lunch, I have public speaking.
"Hey Tris, what's your next class?"
"Public speaking."
"Mine too! And Will's!"
Four walks up to me. "Did you say that you have public speaking next?"
I nod, unsure of what to say.
"So do I." He smiles, then speed walks down the hallway.
"Oh my god! What did he say to you?!"
"Gosh, Christina, he just asked what my next class is. He has the same one as us."
"Oh my god! This is the perfect time to make an impression on him. All you need to do is write a good speech and present it in front of the class. He'll love it!"
"What if that's not what this class is about?"
"Do you have a better idea? It's public speaking. What else could it be about?"
I shrug and we walk down the hall, Will trailing us.
"Okay, class! Listen up! My name is Eric and I will be your teacher this year."
"You're still a damn student, Eric!" a kid shouts out.
"Yes, I am. A senior. And this is my senior project, so guys will be doing what I say, when I say it. You will refer to me as 'god'. Now, since this is public speaking, and there are only 14 of you, everyone will need to move up to the front few rows. You will each get a notecard where you will put your name, homeroom teacher, your favorite movie, and favorite club that you are in. If you do not have one, put a favorite activity. Then you will hand the notecard to the person on your left. Each person will then try to act out the person on his/her card's traits by doing a two-minute skit. We will be presenting next week. Try to sit by someone that you don't know..."
"Pst! Christina! Is this really happening to us?" I whisper.
"Yeah, the Eric is our teacher."
'God' is the quarterback of the varsity football team, who is a favorite of Dr. Matthews. Eric won't be happy when he finds out that Four is trying out for the quarterback position too. Eric has zero social skills, but he used to date Cara, the cheerleader captain and head of the Erudite Club. She dumped him, and Eric was so mad. No one will go out with him. He has about 20 piercings on his face, and everyone else but him thinks they're so ugly. But Eric always gets his way, especially when he goes to Dr. Matthews who raves on and on about him. He probably didn't even have to convince her to let him do this.
I sigh. This cannot be happening to me. Peter and Eric are best friends. If word gets out that Four beat up Peter, Eric will beat me up 'in honor of Peter.'
Public speaking drags on for 45 minutes. I stare at the clock for most of it, until Eric tells me to get off my lazy ass and start writing.
I have P.E. afterwards, along with Uriah and Christina. We do 10 pushups, before we start running.
"Who's our teacher this year?" I ask when we get there.
"Coach Amar," Uriah responds.
"Again?"
"Yup. I heard that he wants to scout out players for different teams."
I nod, "So are you playing football again?"
"Yeah. I want the outside linebacker. Zeke wants the wide receiver."
I nod, trying to hide my lack of football intelligence.
"Will's also doing football," Christina tells me.
"You three! Since you think that you need not listen, why don't you show the class how to do pushups correctly?" Coach Amar says, walking over to us. He points at Uriah, who gets down. "See class? This guy knows how to do them right! His knees bend perfectly so his body is like a plank!" Uriah grunts. Dear coach Amar, must you yell always?!
Then he points at me, "Miss Prior, why don't you sit on his back?" So I get down and sit on Uriah's back. He grunts and wheezes.
"You okay?" I whisper.
"Asthma." He responds.
I literally jump off his back. Uriah collapses.
"Miss Prior, you get back on this instant!" Coach Amar tells me.
"But coach, Uriah has asthma!"
He looks at Uriah, who is rolling on the ground and coughing.
"Christina, take him to the nurse's office. Everyone else start running!"
We all run, and by the time Christina is back, class is nearly over.
"What took you so long?"
"Uriah had to go slow. I feel bad for him. He really wants to get into varsity football, but he has bad asthma."
"So? He can be a replacement. Uriah always finds a way around things."
"Is that all you're gonna say?!"
"It's true. Uriah is dauntless. He won't let a petty thing like this take him over."
She shrugs, "I guess you're right."