Remade

Chapter 1

I can't believe it's been 4 years since I got away from that hell hole. I was 13, in a mundane world with sociopaths so ignorant they weren't even aware of the world around them. And whenever I tried to talk about the rest of the planet or asked questions, they'd shut me up.

The thing is, I'm a curious person and extremely opinionated. Add that with being a tad stubborn (Mason says I'm the most hardheaded girl he's ever met) and you get a Candidate.

At least that's how I'm described here at the Institute. "Bridget Walls: 17 years, female, 5'6, brunette, brown eyes. Personality: rough, strong, opinionated. Potential: HIGH."

That's the description I've had, along with other things of course, since I was evaluated after my first 3 months at the I. I'm thought to be some kind of wild card.

Makes sense. Most of the Fortes at the Institute didn't come from the streets of God knows where. They were tracked down in their fancy schools that Mommy and Daddy paid for after they took their potentiality exams.

I was discovered.

Geez, who knows where I'd be or what I'd be doing if Rosa hadn't found me.

"Come on Alice, time to leave Wonderland, we're going to be late," Mason teases.

"Huh? Oh right, yeah ok." I had spent too much time overthinking my past and if I didn't blow this off quickly, Mason would start prying and there are very little things that I like less than talking about my past, something we have in common. "Alright let's go then, rotten egg," I say smirking and I take off running with Mason right on my heels. We'd been doing this since I had arrived at the I. At the time I was a jumpy 13 year old candidate and Mason was a 17 year old Forte. He and I became quick partners, training and working together and somewhere along the way we became best friends. He kept me company and working hard and I made it my purpose to make him smile and laugh with his head tilted back instead of his usual cool expression with a story of its own.

Mason grew up with his father after his mother died and attended Jade Academy, one of "the highest schools on the Prestigious Academies list" (I call them douche factories) while his father was all over the map exploring the nooks and crannies of the globe and giving financial aid to low funded charities. He is absolutely brilliant in mathematics and sciences and excels in practically everything. I still can't believe he came from the background that he did because he is the sweetest guy you'll ever meet, as opposed to every other pretentious former scholar (even if he can be a bit cocky and proud.) That's why after he took his exams, the Institute wanted him immediately. But he declined, he planned to graduate and travel the world with his father. But things changed.  A week before they were supposed to set off, his father disappeared. He spent months searching and attempting contact until he just stopped. He went numb with anger and abandonment and then dove into his first year of training. He had already started a year late but that's the funny thing about anger.

It's fuel for the fire.

He blew through his training and preparation, especially the militaresque physical part ("Top marks Mr. Darrow, top marks," he would later mock to me with a British accent), forcing himself to do 15 more tire runs and 100 pull ups after every session, therefore giving his tall frame more muscle and making his dark blond hair and hazel eyes even more intense. He became a Forte at 16, the standard age, but he was in the program for only two years.

3 months later, he met me.

"Wait, we shouldn't be running!" he calls out laughing.

"What?" I stop. "Giving up already?"

"No, it's just we're going to your party after all..."

That was right, that's why I was wearing a sleeveless blouse and nice flats instead of my raggedy wannabe Toms and Mason a dark green button down. Our friends Alison, James, and Joanne were throwing me a celebration remembering the day I arrived at the I. They did so every year in place of my birthday, which was a mystery to all. Every year it was different, surfing and burgers at my favorite place at the beach, a hiking trip up in the mountains with a slightly squished cupcake when we got to the top of the falls, an ambush and surprise party on the roof at midnight for stargazing and s'mores. All small, intimate, always the five of us. But this year they decided on this barbeque thing on the Institute's grounds and had invited a ton of people. This year had to be "different" they said, because I was turning 17. Joanne, being the nerd that she was, giggled, "Just think about it, you're practically coming of age."

"Oh get over it Weasely," I'd tease and pull a strand of her curly red hair that she was so proud of.

"What kind of weirdo doesn't know their birthday anyway?" Mason smirks, like he does every year.

And in my head, I respond, like I do every year; the kind that's doesn't remember their mother. Or had a real birthday with any family.

"You're lucky my evaluation was even able to tell my age. Or else who knows, maybe your best friend would be a 13 year old parading around as a 16 year old," I retaliate.

"Fair enough," Mason says, giving me his signature knowing half smile.

A/N: Hey guys! This is my first work and I cannot believe how much I have enjoyed working on it! My friends and best friend have been absolutely amazing, giving me inspiration and ideas as well as other amazing authors. Any similarity to existing people is purely coincidental and all rights are reserved so enjoy!