So not to brag (but I'm going to, yeah...) but I really, really like this chapter. Dramadramadrama.
As always, I own nothing. If I did, Uriah wouldn't die.
Shoutout to all my lovely reviewers. Keep it up, folks. Cyber-chocolate from me to you.
Her mother had dropped her mug, and it now lay in shards of blue porcelain on the tiled ground, coffee oozing out like brownish blood.
Her face was ice white, her eyes very large and very dark in the midst of all the paleness. Her lips were tightened into a thin line, and her hands shook.
"This cannot be happening."
"Mom?" Tris clenched her shaking hands. Her heart was pounding, her thoughts twirling in dizzying spirals. "What's going on?"
Her mother didn't reply. She just stood there, her face chalky, lips pursed.
"Mom-" Tris reached out and gently touched her mothers arm, trying to remain as calm as possible.
"What? Oh, yes-" Edith shook her head quickly, as if trying to clear away unwanted thoughts, and then inhaled deeply, pressing her palms together above her heart and closing her eyes like a yogi or something. After a moment, she relaxed her arms back to her sides, and opened her eyes. "So silly of me to drop the mug…" She glanced at the clock, and it was almost like nothing had happened. Almost. "But you need to get to school. Why don't I drive you, and then I'll just pop back and clean up before work."
"Uh… okay," said Tris, blinking slowly. She was completely confused- what had happened that had made her mom flip out? And why wasn't she saying anything?
Giving the shattered mug once last glance, Tris followed her mother out of the kitchen, and into the battered gray Subaru Legacy they had driven from their last town… and the town before that… and that… and that….
It was one of the few things that remained consistent. The (faint, thankfully) smell of Dorito chips and the smooth texture of the black leather seats remained the same, no matter where the Prior's where living. Tris slid into the shotgun seat, her mother lowering herself into the drivers seat.
They backed out of the driveway, onto the quiet cul-de-sac. Instead of her normal Q&A routine- "What's happening today?", "Who are you're new friends?"…- Edith was unusually quiet. She jabbed a button on the Subaru's dash with a shaking finger and jangly type of jazz music that Tris hated began blaring.
Tris stared out the window, lost in thought. What was going on? Since they moved in, things had been incredibly weird. She was beginning to feel the heroine of some cheesy YA novel. Every so often, she would glance at her mom. When Edith knew Tris was looking at her, she pasted on a smile, but the cloudy, distant look in her eyes was still there, and when she thought Tris wasn't looking, her face became every bit as tense as it had been in the kitchen.
Finally (Yes, for the first time in… forever, really, Tris was happy, relieved, even, to get to school) they pulled up in front of the cinderblock school building.
"Well, bye now," said Edith, smiling in a way that looked somewhere between a grimace and a sob.
"Uh, see ya," Tris managed, yanking her bag out of the car and leaping down onto the pavement.
The front of school was, as always, the melting pot for the cliques, but of course, it wasn't exactly a melting pot, because nothing actually melted together. The various cliques just sort of stood around together, close but never coming together.
There was Caleb, (Tris swallowed around the sour taste that invaded her mouth at the thought of her brother.) surrounded, as always, by a pack of other smart, "chic", "European", "sophisticated" people. Including Janine, who was clad, today, in a black blazer that didn't exactly downplay her tiny waistline and curvy figure, and gray leggings tucked into sleek black boots. She looked like a high-class stripper. Like, a really, really high-class stripper. Like, a so-high-class-she-runs-the-joint-along-with-fifty-other-fine –establishments-and-has-a-higher-income-than-you, stripper.
Then there were a group of kids wearing stark blacks and whites, waving papers and laughing and shouting in firm voices. Tris spotted her seatmate from the day before, Christina, in the thick of the pack.
Finally, her gaze landed on the group of people she had been hanging with yesterday. They were sitting on the fence, raven-like as they perched in their black clothes talking and laughing loudly into the morning wind. If they had looked dramatic the day before in the lot with the afternoon's gray light and the wind on the concrete, they looked downright magical now: Fierce blots of black ink spilling off the clean lines, at once unyielding and ethereal as their black clothes fluttered and their bright hair and accessories gleamed.
"Yo, Tris, you made it!" Uriah nodded at her, his dark eyes sparkling.
Tris only nodded in response, trying to shake the heavy weight of the morning's weirdness away.
"You ok?" Liv untangled herself from sleepy-looking Jasper, and surveyed Tris from head to toe with a sort of appraising glance. She was clad, today, in a short black tutu-like skirt edged with silvery lace and a black leather jacket. Her feet were, once again, planted in the muddy Dr. Marten's. And of course, instead of looking like a try-hard rocker, or some clichéd Halloween costume (which was how Tris knew she would look if she dressed that way) she looked fierce and adorable and badass in the extreme.
Was she ok? Tris considered that for a moment. Her various limbs were all intact, she looked ok, she'd had enough to eat and a good night's sleep. Except for her weird morning, she was not just ok but actually kind of good.
"Yeah, I guess." She shrugged, and then corrected herself. "Weird morning, though."
"I feel you. This morning Uriah thought it would be a good idea to make toast, expect that our toaster is pretty damn broken so he tried to use the oven. " Zeke leaned over, raising an eyebrow and smirking. "I always knew my little bro wasn't cut out to be a chef, but right about time when the fire trucks pulled up I realized I should keep on handling breakfast."
"Shut up," said Uriah, punching him in the arm. "It would've been some fine-ass toast, had I gotten it right."
Liv, Zeke, Lynn, and Bette laughed, and even Tris managed to muster up a giggle.
"Hey," said Lynn, crossing her black-sweatshirt-clad arms, "I think I have the winner of all weird-morning stories. Today I found my younger brother writing love poetry on the wall of his bedroom. The step-woman is going to fuh-lip, but I guess that's the idea."
"The step-woman is what she calls her step-mom," whispered Four in Tris's ear, somehow managing to seemingly appear without Tris sensing his approach. "If you ask her why, she'll launch into the evils of forcing emotional connections on people."
"Got it, " muttered Tris, trying not to think about the why Four's hot breathe made her skin tingle with… anticipation, it seemed, and how the musky, sweet smell of his body made her feel faint, in the best possible way.
"I hate to break up this fascinating conversation, but bell's about to ring and I don't need another tardy." Jasper arched an eyebrow, pointing toward his battered black digital watch.
Tris was starting to notice a theme- all that dramatic eyebrow raising.
The day oozed onwards toward lunch in the alarming way that school day's tend to, all droning lessons and irritated teachers overworked and underpaid and hopped up on caffeine to drill Latin conjugations or quadratic equations or literary techniques through their students heads.
But finally, finally, the last bell before lunch rung, and Tris let herself get lost in the crowd of students surging down the hall toward the cafeteria. On her own, she wasn't sure she'd be able to find it on her own, but the magic of mobs kicked in and the flow of students carried her along with it.
The cafeteria was just like every other cafeteria in every other school she'd gone to; a crowded, echoing room that smelled like disinfectant and pizza and was humming with the chatter of at least a couple hundred teenagers. It was also the hub of the social hierarchy. Janine and Caleb and their posse occupied a round table at the center of the room, preening and strutting and otherwise showing off their glamour and "sophistication" and all of that nonsense that made them the popular crowd.
After a few moments searching, Tris found the table at the back of the room where her friends were sitting. Much to her disappointment-although of course she wouldn't phrase it that way- Four wasn't seated at the table, but Lynn, Liv and Jasper were.
"Hey," she said, sliding into a seat beside Lynn.
"Yo," said Jasper by way of greeting.
Liv nodded in acknowledgment, and Lynn smiled around the carton of chocolate milk she was drinking.
"Hey," said Lynn, putting down her milk carton, "you have a brother?"
Tris sighed. It always came up, no matter how little she mentioned Caleb. "Yeah," she said, scowling. "Unfortunately."
Liv nodded sympathetically. "We all have siblings we wish we didn't. I have two older brothers and a sister. I know where you're at."
"Nah, I'm sure your siblings aren't horrible, egotistical brats that everyone is obsessed with for some reason," Tris retorted.
"Well…. " Liv trailed off. "I'm sure there's something you like about your brother?"
Tris merely shrugged.
"His name is Caleb, right?" asked Jasper, before taking a sip of something (Tris assumed it was water) from a banged-up metal bottle. "Caleb Prior?"
"Yeah," said Tris. "Wait, how do you know his name?"
Jasper swigged some more of the mysterious substance. "I take Trig with Jeanine Matthews and her crew of despicable show offs, Blaire DuPont and Caroline Pietmon. They were all giggling about some hot guy named Caleb, who had apparently just switched in. Then Jeanine brought up how he had a little sister who was a skanky little whore flinging herself at Four…" He trailed off, raising his eyebrows.
He didn't need to elaborate. Tris got the gist of it, all right. Her cheeks burned red. How incredibly, shockingly, horrifyingly, embarrassing. Jasper and Liv and the whole group probably thought she was some pathetic poser obsessing over Four. Not to mention what Four probably thought…. She groaned, and buried her head in her hands.
"Hey, Tris, don't sweat it." Lynn lay a comforting hand on Tris's shoulder. "Jeanine Matthews is a class-A bitch. She's sore 'cause Four dumped her, and she's the most power-hungry little shitbag on earth. " She lowered her voice to a whisper. "A guy who dumped her in freshman year- she started spreading a rumor that he had raped some girl at a party. He was kicked off the basket ball team, removed from the honor roll… the whole enchilada. His family moved away."
"Jeez," breathed Tris. Jeanine was definetly a psychopath. "But, doesn't she get in trouble? I mean, if it's that obvious?"
Liv shook her head sadly. "That's the thing. She won't ever get in trouble around here, or anywhere else, for that matter."
"Why? I don't get it." Tris at stabbed her Mac'n'Cheese (fluorescent yellow and completely unnatural looking… Oh, the magic of lunch ladies…) with the fury of a righteous soul seeking justice.
"Have you ever heard of Erudite, LLC?" Jasper leaned forward, keeping his voice low.
Erudite, LLC… Tris scoured her brain. The name sounded familiar, from… the newspaper, maybe? "I don't know," she said finally.
"Ok, well, it's this giant company, and they specialize in bioengineering- like, I think their thing is hallucinogens and visual neuron tracking – taking fMRI's to the next level."
"Wait, hallucino-whats? fMRI's?" Tris felt like she was taking a test, and failing.
Jasper shook his head impatiently.
"Ignore him," Lynn whispered to Tris. "He totally geeks out sometimes. Don't take it personally if he gets annoyed."
Jasper cleared his throat. "Basically, Erudite makes these 'serums', I guess, that stimulate different parts of the brain. They use that information for drugs, psychology- pretty much everything."
Tris nodded slowly. She understood at least 60% of what Jasper was saying, so, hey- better than nothing, right?
Only one question remained on her mind.
"So, how exactly does this relate to Jeanine and her punishment-evasion strategies?"
Jasper sighed, and looked at her as if she was either very stupid, a young child, or mentally challenged. "Her mother is the founder, and the head researcher. Her father is the CEO. The only reason they don't live in some fancy city is because the Erudite compound is right outside of town, not because they don't have the money. Although… I think that the main office is in a city somewhere, but… " He trailed off, deep in thought.
Tris coughed pointedly, jerking Jasper out of his thoughts. "So… You're saying that Jeanine's parent's just buy her out of any issues she might have?"
"Yes, on occasion." Jasper smiled at her, and seemed to decide that maybe she wasn't quite so dumb after all. "But in general, the prestige is generally enough to stop anyone from laying a finger on her, the little scumbag."
Tris nodded slowly, rage coursing through her. It was just so unfair, she thought bitterly, digging into her unnaturally colored lunch. People like Jeanine got to run around ruining people's lives, and just because their families were rich they never got in trouble with her.
The bell signaling the end of the lunch period jangled obnoxiously through the room, jerking Tris out of her fuming. She tossed the remains of her lunch in the trash and stalked out of the room, the proverbial storm clouds still hanging over her head.
The rest of the day was uneventful enough, and Tris found her bitter mood being swept away by a list of Latin vocab words to learn, a new lab in Chem, and a page of seemingly impossible problems to do for Mr. Quetz, the most boring math teacher on the planet, if not the entire universe. Instead, her mood was replaced by the tingling pricks of curiosity.
By the time she got home, the tingles had blossomed into full-blown itches, itches of questions that just demanded to be answered.
When Tris let herself into the house, there was no one else there- both her parents were still at work, and Caleb was… off doing whatever it was he did. Tris's lip curled in disdain. Probably sleeping with too-rich-for-you Jeanine and rolling in hundred-dollar-bills. Or something.
Tris helped herself to a chocolate-chip cookie and a glass of cold milk from the kitchen, and then bounded up to her bedroom. She tossed her backpack down next to her bed, homework forgotten for the moment.
She moved the boxes off the simple wooden desk pushed into the corner of the room, and dug around in a box until she located her battered MacBook. Praying to the gods of Apple that it would be charged, she turned it on, sighing in relief when the familiar wake-up tune blasted out.
As soon as the homepage loaded, Tris opened up Google Chrome. The search bar blinked at her, egging on her curiosity. "Erudite, LLC", she typed,(well, she actually only had to type "Eru-" before Google supplied her with the phrase she was looking for.) and then pressed "enter".
A second later, a list of results popped up, the first being what claimed to be the official homepage of Erudite, Limited Liability Company. Tris's heart raced with anticipation, although she wasn't sure why. This now went beyond annoyance at some mean girl- Tris was now legitimately intrigued about the company, although she couldn't put her finger on the exact reason why.
She clicked the link.
The page loaded quickly, opening up to a sleek black and white interface more suited to a couture fashion site than a science research company. "Erudite: Having great knowledge or learning," read the tagline in a sleek serif font. Just below it, an address was listed in similarly sleek font, albeit far smaller.
Tris stared at the address. Something about it was familiar… Where had she seen it before? It was an address in Chicago…
A thought it her like a bolt of lightening. Tris leapt to her feet. She dashed down the stairs and sprinted into the kitchen. As she had expected, the mysterious letter addressed to Natalie Prior was lying on the kitchen counter, undisturbed from where Edith had left it in the morning.
As Tris hurried back to her room, she couldn't shake a deep feeling of guilt, although once again, she couldn't figure out why. There was nothing inherently wrong with looking at the address- the return address, no less- but somehow, Tris felt like it was wrong, an invasion of privacy, almost.
No. The itches of curiosity had already blossomed into metaphorical poison ivy. She had to continue. Shaking her head to rid herself of the worries, Tris glanced down at the address, and then up at the web page.
They were identical.
Duhn-Duhn-Duuuuuuhn! *dramatic music*
If you want me to update fast, leave a review.
If you liked it, leave a review.
If you hated it, leave a review.
No matter what, just leave a review.
Thanksss ;)