A/N Sorry for the long wait! But yay! We broke 100 for reviews, and 150 for follows! Thanks, guys :D
Disclaimer: I do not own Insurgent, sadly.
Tris POV:
After Four and I get over the initial shock of seeing our principal at a carnival on a Thursday morning, we are hauled away by Mrs. Matthews.
"Where are you taking us?" I ask, sounding more weak than intended.
"You'll see," is her only response. Her hands are positioned neatly behind her back, and even though her body language reads calm, I know she's not very happy. She is walking alone in front of us, and though we could take off running, Four and I know better.
Mrs. Matthews does not look back, and I know she can sense her power. She exits the carnival, and Four and I follow suit. She gets in a car, and we get in the back seats. We fasten our seat belts and a driver takes us away.
Not once does Mrs. Matthews look at us. She just stares ahead at the road, thinking to herself. Then she turns to us, with a smirk creeping onto her face.
Four and I glance at each other. We are trapped.
A few minutes later, the driver stops. He pulls into a parking lot, and soon we are walking through the back entrance to the school.
"Thank you Nile," Mrs. Matthews says, and a minute later she is leading us through a series of halls, and opens a door to what can only be her office. It's tidy, but her desk is covered with notes, and designs. Designs that look as if they are for the city's town center. She swiftly scoops them up, and puts them in a filing cabinet behind her desk.
"Sit down," Mrs. Matthews commands.
Four and I immediately sit down in the two seats in front of her desk.
Mrs. Matthews takes out some heavily-filled files from the same cabinet and puts them on her desk, before sitting down in front of us.
"What on earth were you two thinking?"
Four shrugs and stares ahead.
I clear my throat then begin, "We couldn't stop thinking about Al. We had to get away."
Mrs. Matthews looks intrigued, but keeps her scowl on her face. "Away from what?"
This time Four talks for both of us. "Away from the drama. A was a great guy, but he hurt Tris, and we just couldn't see why people didn't see his suicide coming."
Mrs. Matthews nods, as if she was expecting this. Then she pauses for a minute to adjust her hair. For the first time, I realize how similar we look. The same long blonde hair and curious eyes. In a way, she reminds me of my dad. How they both yearn for knowledge. But he's more selfless. More giving than most people in the city. Then Mrs. Matthews looks back to us. "Alright. I will just give you each a detention, since I have more pressing matters to take care of." She glances back to us, "Okay?"
We nod, not daring to argue. And besides, one detention is not terrible. Mr. Max is bound to understand.
"Alright," she says. Then she takes out a felt-tipped pen, pushes her glasses up, and starts writing notes down in what I assume are our permanent records. "I'll be back in a minute. Stay here."
We nod, and she puts down the files and pen and walks out of the room.
"How long do you think she'll be gone?" I whisper to Four.
He shrugs. "Five, ten minutes maybe. Why are you whispering?"
"This room could be bugged."
He nods in understandment, and gets up.
"What are you doing?"
He ignores me for a minute and cracks open the door, peaking into the hallway. He closes it a minute later, smiling.
"Four! What are you doing?" I repeat. Although I hate being the center of attention, I also hate being ignored.
"Looking for something."
I nod, and get up to help him.
"What are we looking for?"
"The flash drive." He says, without pausing his hands. They rummage through drawers like nothing.
"Ah ha!" he exclaims, holding the flash drive up after a minute.
"What if it's not the right one? That drawer is full of those."
He looks at me, but not down to me. "Mrs. Matthews clearly marked it with the Erudite's club symbol: a blue eye."
"Yeah, but tons of those are in there."
He holds the flash drive up. "This flash drive has the same letters as it did before."
"Y-you've seen it before?"
He nods. "I've been researching the topic. I snuck in after everyone left."
Then we hear footsteps down the hall.
"Someone's coming." I whisper.
Four nods, and pushes the drawer in. Then he sits down and we pretend to look bored.
"Ah, good." Mrs. Matthews says, as she walks in. "You two are still here. Well, it seems as if we are done with you two for now, so you may leave."
We nod and walk out.
"There goes that idea," Four says.
I nod, and stare ahead, not wanting to go back to class. Then I think about what Mrs. Matthews said. It seems as if we are done with you two for now, makes it seem as if she's not done with us. As if she's going to use us. And why did she use 'we', and not 'I'?
Four looks to me, and takes my hand, squeezing it gently.
"See you in detention."
"Yeah." Then I walk to English class.
"Mr. Max?" I knock on his classroom door. Then I huff and push it open slightly. Mr. Max is rapidly typing on his laptop. All his attention is drawn into it. I clear my throat. "Mr. Max?"
"Oh," he looks up from the screen, but his fingers don't stop typing. "Hello Tris."
"Hi. Um, I won't be able to be tutored today. I have, uh, detention."
"Ah, yes. Jea-Mrs. Matthews told me about that. Good day."
I nod and walk back out into the hall. When I look back, I see him concentrated on the screen again.
As I walk to class A56, I think about my conversation with Mr. Max. He seemed eager to get back to what he was doing, yet nervous. Like someone who's not supposed to know about it is gonna rip down the door and look at what he was doing. Like it's something secretive. Like what he was talking to Peter and Eric about. Something that they were doing for Mrs. Matthews.
I connect the dots and soon realize what Mr. Max must've been doing. It was so simple all along. Eric and Peter were taking a file out of Marcus' computer. They must have given it to Mrs. Matthews to use against Marcus in the upcoming election.
But if they were doing that to Marcus, where they doing it to the whole city council as well? Were they doing it to my father? They must've, because the current city council does not think highly of Mr. Matthews.
I rub my eyes, and push A56's door open.
"Why hello!" A cheery voice says.
"Hi," I start awkwardly, not expecting the cheeriness in detention.
"I'm Mrs. Reyes, but you can call me Johanna. If you don't know me, I teach art and cheer, and am the Peace and Justice Club adviser." The voice's cheery owner says. I vaguely remember seeing Johanna at an assembly. But whether you've seen her one time or a thousand, it is hard to forget. A scar stretches in a thick line from just above her right eyebrow to her lip, rendering her blind in one eye and giving her a lisp when she talks. I have only heard her speak once, but I remember. She would have been a beautiful woman if not for that scar.
I nod, taking it all in. The room is covered with splattered paint, a mural of a farm on one wall, and tons of supplies, most of which are scattered on random desks.
Johanna leads me to a set of desks, all of which are arranged in a circle. "Meet the misfits," she tells me, a smile trying to creep into her face. But not a demented one, more of a friendly one. Like she's happy to be here.
A few people look like regulars to detention, happy to be here, in a room full of people that they'll try to cheer up. Others look like this is the last place they want to be. But they don't look mad. Or even regretful of their actions. Like they came here in a bad mood, and found it to be a nice place. And still, others look uncomfortable. The smarties. Cara, and Fernando, I recognize. But there's a whole group of them, like they all did one thing wrong and got sent here.
Someone knocks on the door, and Johanna gets up to answer it.
"Welcome," she says. "I thought you'd never make it. And you know how strict Mrs. Matthews is."
She puts her arms up to their shoulders, one kid at a time, and smiles. "Let me take care of you."
Strange choice of words from a teacher who's leading detention.
A minute later, Peter and Four walk in scowling; their hair messed up, and their clothes ruffled, like they got in a fight. Four sits down next to me, and slips the flash drive in my hand.
"Hey!" Peter whispers. Then he sits down on my other side. "Why does she get it? It's not like she's mentally stable, with her father crazy and all."
"What are you talking about?!" I whisper back.
"Mrs. Matthews wrote another report, about you skipping school and being a druggie. It attacked your father. She wrote 'em about everyone on the city council."
I roll my eyes. Mrs. Matthews is a b*tch. Who else would know how to get to my father through his children?
Four rubs my shoulder. He can sense my tense-ness.
Peter clears his throat quietly. "Anyways...why do you get the hard-drive? You're obviously not stable."
I laugh. "Neither are you. Why would you believe that stupid article?"
Peter shrugs. Then he takes the flash drive out of my pocket.
"Hey!" I shout.
Johanna is talking to Four, and I can't get his attention without getting the teacher's.
"Give it back!"
"No."
Then I lung at him.