Hey there, everyone!
Another chapter! YAY!
A HUGE, HUGE, HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed or PM'd. I tried to respond to all of them, but if I forgot, I am eternally sorry. Every single thing that anyone has written to me has a profound impact on me, and just makes my day so much brighter. To the guest reviews, thank you so much! I wish I could PM you but just know that you have truly made a difference in my happiness for the better. (Does that even make sense? Idek. I'm so insanely jetlagged right now... agsajdshajdgshaj.)
And keep reviewing, ya hear me?! :)
In this chapter, there is another reference to another fandom- if you can guess it, props to you! I'm thinking of including a fandom reference in every chapter from here on out, and then writing a custom shipping fic or really anything else as a present for whoever can guess the most refs! Thoughts? I know the gift-fic thing is done a lot more on Archive of Our Own, but I think it's a really nice idea and I would lovelovelove to write one. Yeah, actually, if you want a fic, PM me the details.
Anywhoooo, here's the chappie!
As always, I own nothing but my chocolate and my insomnia.
Tris and Caleb stepped outside.
Sure enough, Jeanine's sleek little sexed-up-James-Bond-mobile was sitting out front like a poisonous, shiny, flower.
"Hey, Jan," Called Caleb, running a hand through his euro-chic-bedhead, making it look even more artsy and effortless than before, if that was even possible.
There was an audible hissing, and then the driver's-side door of the car swung open, a long, golden leg ending in a pair of sleek, light brown booties extended out. A second equally long, golden leg followed it, and then thighs clad in a tiny white skirt and a torso that seemed to be more skin than fabric. Two long, bangle-clad arms snaked out, and then with a swoosh of wavy light brown hair, Jeanine Matthews emerged from the car.
"Hi there, Caleb," she said, her voice sounding both sultry and sweet.
"My little sister, Beatrice, needs a ride…." He trailed off, his eyes flickering from Tris to Jeanine and back.
Jeanine's plush pink lips parted for a second, plumped to their finest in a perfect cupid's bow shape. "Say no more," she said with a smile that spoke of slow torture and fancy perfume. "Beatrice-" And was it Tris's imagination or did she hiss a little? "-and I are….well acquainted. Let's go."
Caleb breathed a quiet sigh of relief, before swinging his bag off of his back and sliding into the passenger seat.
"Well, Beatrice? There's nothing to be afraid of, here." Jeanine smiled an icy smile, and then arched an eyebrow invitingly.
Fighting of the chills, Tris slid into the backseat of the car.
It was as sleek and techy as she had remembered it- the same soft music was even playing.
"I like your shoes… they new?" Caleb asked brightly, glancing down at Jeanine's feet.
"Um-Hmm," said Jeanine smugly enough that it made Tris somewhat nauseous. "Mommy's having a really good patch at work, so… that means more presents for me."
Mommy's having a really good path at work.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Tris saw the mysterious letter in her mother's hand; saw her face paling and her coffee mug shattering on the floor of the kitchen. This was her chance to find out more, if only a fragment, about the complicated web of intrigue she was suddenly finding her self in the midst of.
"So, ah, Jeanine," she started, praying to a god she had never believed in that her voice sounded less nervous and unsure than she though it did.
Jeanine and Caleb both turned slightly to face her, Caleb's face a readable mix of astonishment that she was talking, annoyance that she was, and embarrassment. Jeanine's carefully arranged expression was harder to decodes, but Tris thought she saw some surprise in the delicate arch of the other girl's eyebrow.
"Ah, so what is it that your mom does, anyway?" Tris continues, attempting to feign nonchalance.
Jeanine's light gray eyes meet Tris's in the rear view mirror. She blinks slowly, her thickly lashed eyes shutting softly and then opening again. It feels like Morse code, somehow. I know what you're doing, Jeanine seems to be saying. I see you.
No. That's absurd, Tris told herself, shaking away the cold grips of anxiety.
"My mom is the head researcher and the president of a company that manufactures neural implants. It's called Erudite."
"Oh," said Tris, struggling to think of a convincing question that would still further her search. "That must get pretty controversial, right?"
Jeanine narrowed her eyes slightly. "Maybe. There's some group in Chicago or New York or something that's always protesting, but…" she sighed delicately, but her eyes never left Tris's. "Haters always exist. What Erudite is doing is advancing intellectual society."
A chill ran down Tris's back. There was something about the way she said "intellectual society" that was downright terrifying, despite the innocuous nature of the words.
Thankfully, the school was approaching. Never had Tris felt so relieved to pull up to the blocky, bunker-like building complex.
She pushed open the door and stepped out, slamming the door behind her with her foot, secretly hoping that the sleek door got smudged or scratched in some way.
"Hey, Tris! What're you so angry about?"
Tris glanced through the crowds of students milling around before first bell, spotting the familiar voice's source immediately. Liv was seated on a bench under a huge oak tree, her purple streaks vibrant against a white leather jacket, a black miniskirt, and fire-truck red high-tops. She was like the most badass retro-Barbie ever… and she was holding a Latin textbook.
"Hi," Tris said when she managed to fight through the hordes of students surrounding Liv.
Liv flashed her a toothy smile, and then said, "You happen to speak Latin? I gotta translate 'Dura Lex, Sed Lex' for class."
"Someone say Latin?"
Both girls turned to see Jasper, his hair damp and dark against his black sweatshirt, leaning against the wall behind them.
"And hello to you too," quipped Liv. "Gosh, though, you scared me!"
"Sorry," said Jasper, smiling bashfully. "The Latin, though, it means 'Law is hard, but it is law'."
Liv sighed with relief. "Oh, thank god you're a genius, Jas. I have Latin next and I was really stuck on that for some reason."
"Welcome," Jasper mumbled, fiddling with the strap of his bag as he flushed as red as his hair. Tris had noticed that being complimented made him surprisingly uncomfortable.
But before she could begin to reflect on his character, the bell rung, a canned piano riff that probably was meant to sound upbeat and interesting, but had the air of an outdated infomercial- somewhat bad in it's time, but now just sad and pathetic. Tris did some quick thinking. She had English Lit with Ms. Ackerman first period, all the way down at the back of the main building. Cursing silently, Tris began to elbow her way through the masses of students, mumbling apologies as she went. It was like fighting through caramel, but living caramel that kicked and elbowed back when you kicked and elbowed it.
But finally, the somewhat-familiar doorway to Ms. Ackerman's classroom came into view. Breathing a reverent sigh of relief, Tris quietly stepped through the still-open door, and settled into her seat next to Christina.
While she knew she must look flushed and sweaty from her punctuality ordeal, not to mention ragged and messy from her late morning, seeing Christina made her realize exactly how bad she looked, at least compared to the blonde girl.
It wasn't quite that Christina was fancy- she wasn't like Jeanine and her posse, with their fancy clothes and sleek, polished glow. She wasn't feigning anything, or showing anything off. She was just there, at face value, in black leggings and a white T-shirt and white converse, her face open and her eyes shining. Nothing held back, nothing filtered out.
"You look pretty nasty," she said cheerfully, smiling brightly.
"Thanks," said Tris, trying- and failing- to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She wasn't angry, exactly- it was true; Christina was just being honest, but still. There was something about that breed of honesty so early on such a miserable morning…
"Aw, I'm sorry," said Christina, hearing everything Tris hadn't said, in her voice. "I'm a really honest person. My parents always told me that being polite was like lying but wrapped up all pretty." Her face fell slightly. "But I guess they never went to High School."
Tris opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment, Ms. Ackerman walked into the classroom. Today, her curly, red-blonde hair was tied back and braided with a simple dark blue ribbon, and instead of some sort of silky dress or skirt, she wore black pants and a fitted button-down shirt.
"Good morning, class. I'm very pleased to say that we have a surprise visitor today!"
"What?" Tris looked over to Christina. "It wasn't scheduled. Plus, how could it be that made her dress all… professional?"
Christina shrugged. "Sometimes rich visitors that the board really wants just pop in whenever. Must be some conservative rich guy coming to talk about his business or something because the school is desperate to be able to qualify for 'special events' funding."
Nodding, Tris turned back to her own desk, although she was still puzzled. Deciding that maybe paying attention would yield the answer she was looking for, Tris turned her attention back to Ms. Ackerman.
"I am honored to introduce Petra Matthews. Please welcome her to our classroom."
Matthews, Matthews…. Why did that sound so familiar? Tris shrugged. It was, after all, a common name.
But as soon as the woman walked in, Tris knew exactly why the name sounded familiar. Because it was Jeanine's mother.
The woman- Petra- had the same wavy light brown hair, only hers was cut at a sever angle that traced her jawbone, arcing gracefully from earlobe-length to chin-length around the sides of her face, and the same wide, light gray eyes. However, unlike her daughter, Petra Matthews did not seem to put much stock in fashion- she wore black pants and an angular black jacket over a deep blue shirt.
"Good morning, students," she began, in a soft-but-firm voice. "As you already know, my name is Petra Matthews, and I am the Head Researcher and President of Erudite, am international company dedicated to neuroengineering research and product design, focusing on mapping and utilizing specific areas of the brain. You may address me as President Matthews or Ma'am."
President Matthews was not particularly charismatic, nor was she a figure that commanded extraordinary thought, but there as something about the intensity in her silvery eyes as she spoke, slowly, enunciating ev-er-ey wo-rd so cl-ea-r-ly, that seemed almost magnetic. Like you couldn't help but be transfixed by what she was saying, to hang on to her every word.
"Now, I know that our time today is severely limited, but I am here to invite you to participate in the first ever visual-transmission psychological-fear-assessment at the Erudite compound just a few miles away from this school."
A low hum of conversation sprung up, whispering wildfires racing around the room. The words had no meaning- after all, they were teenagers and not neuroscientists, but there was something about the way that Matthews said them that made them seem like the most exciting thing ever.
Matthews raised one slim, pale finger, and the room quieted. "I know that many of you are not sure what this would entail for you, so using what remains of our time, I'd like to explain to you. Your brain is composed of many different parts, each with a different purpose. We have been studying the part of the brain that tracks fear, and thanks to serum we have recently discovered, it will now be able to undergo a simulation experience designed to examine your deeply-ingrained fears, which will be transmitted through an electromagnetic transmission serum to a screen where an Erudite researcher will be able to view and monitor the simulation as you are having it in your mind."
Jeanine paused, and this time, the class remained in complete silence.
Suddenly, there was a crackle of static over the intercom, and then the distorted voice of Principal Oblivern boomed out. "Sorry to interrupt, but Beatrice Prior, please come to my office immediately. That's Beatrice Prior to my office."
Me? Tris looked around in shock. What could she be called there for? Certainly not for some infraction- she couldn't even remember breaking the rules…
"Beatrice, you better go," said Ms. Ackerman. She had been so silent while Matthews was speaking that Tris was not alone in jumping slightly when they heard her soft voice.
"Uh, okay," Tris said, gathering up her bag and slipping out of the classroom. She could still feel Matthews' silver eyes burning white-hot long after she had left the classroom and began the eerily silent walk down the empty corridors.
By the time that she reached the office, a cold sweat had broken out on Tris's skin. What could she possibly have done that would result in her being so urgently needed in the middle of class?
"Straight in, dear," said Miss Gigi. And was it her imagination, or did she avoid Tris's eyes?
With her sense of impending dread strengthening by the second, Tris made her way into Oblivern's office.
"Hello, Beatrice," said Oblivern, although her face was drawn and taut. "Please, take a seat."
Tris felt the weight of terror descending on her. She was in trouble, she was going to be expelled…
In reality, however, it was so, so much worse.
"This morning, there was an accident while your parents were driving to work. Your mother is in critical condition at the hospital, but your father… he… he didn't make it."
Woahhh. Cliffhanger, much?
Stay tuned to know what happens! Did you get the reference?
Reviewreviewreviewreviewreview.
Review.
Please.
Thank you.
Yes, perfect.
DO review.