In the Shadows - DIVERGENT HIGH

Chapter 7

I grin at Susan as I come out of the room and spring over to her. "What did you get?" I ask her.
"Well we aren't supposed to tell but everyone does anyway. What did you get?"
"Dauntless!"
"Cool. I knew you would. I got Abnegation but I wish I could go with my friends."
"Susan you can. The test isn't supposed to limit you, it's meant to help you. You don't have to chose Abnegation if you don't want to. Sorry my brother lectured me this morning on the whole system. It was really dull but he has the kind of voice that, no matter how hard you try, you can't block it out. It's ok Susan. Don't be upset. You chose."
I finish and walk away because as a new virtual dauntless, I can't be seen cradling a distressed "stiff".

"Beatrice Prior. See me in my office at break." I whip round to see Ms Matthews marble-hard eyes staring into my soul. So I muster a smile and close my heart to her examination. Then I meet her stare and say: I'll be there.

I walk away, my mind distressed and distraught, and distracted from the task on hand. What has the head teacher got to ask me about, is it my test? Did I put up a good enough show? What if I haven't: what can I do to prove myself. People stream past me like the strong current of a congested canal and I can't help but notice everyone else's radiant expressions. It's as though they each have their own miniature weather forecast projected, to themselves, in their brains. Their suns are shining bright but mine, mine is whipping up a storm.

All through Re and Spanish I blank out. My brain fizzes, like a bath bomb, when it eventually finds that it has used up all of it's energy, the bell rings and I march to my awaited doom.

"Come in. Oh Beatrice do sit down." She simpers. I am as good as dead. But I sit down all the same. If this is a game, I am going to play until I have no more cards.

"Now Beatrice. As you know it is in your best interest that we know if you are divergent." My heart skips a beat. She knows.
"You hesitated before chosing the knife. Why?" She can hear my heart. Think Tris, think!
"My parents never allowed me to handle a weapon so I didn't know how it would feel in my hand." Don't elaborate or it'll sneak out. She already knows.
"I see. And how did your background creep into your conscience?"
She's trying to catch me out. But I won't let her. I won't.
"I thought I heard my mother's voice asking me to chose. Whose voice was it really?"
"It was programmed to sound like someone authoritative but familiar. In your case, your mum because I understand you don't see your dad anymore. All the other children, besides you and Caleb, had me."
I breathe a sigh of relief (internally)

"You may leave now Proir." She mumbles, clearly disappointed that her latest catch has wringled away from her grasp.

Slowly but confidently, I scrape the chair back from her mahogany desk, rise from it, turn to face Ms Mathews and stare into her eyes. She flinches a little at first, before realising her defeat, then her face turns to steel and I push in my chair, grab my bag and saunter out.

A wave of tropical air hits me when I take 3 steps away from Ms. Matthews' office and it is only then that I notice how bitterly cold it was in there. Wait, was I supposed to show it was cold? Have I actually failed? My chest rises and falls slowly, attempting to inhale and echale a steady flow of air. It's over now Tris. You've done all you can. Now go to lessons like nothing ever happened. I breathe deeply once more and when my eyes focus, I see that I am waiting outside the appropriate door so I place my hand in the centre of the firm, wooden door and put on pressure in my palm.
"So sorry I am late Mr Wu."
"Alright I'll forgive you. Go and sit next to Four."
Without a murmur of emotion crossing my face, I sit down next to him unpack my history book, pencil case and my planner. All I can tell is that I won't be able to do any work this lesson unless I ignore number-boy next to me. Which shaln't be easy.

"... Turn to page 64 in your textbooks."
I flick the page open and it lands exactly on the correct page.
"So what are we doing stiff?" Four drawls in a lazy tone.
"Don't count on it that I'll always tell you, you need to listen, but for now I will. We are learning about the civil war."
"Cheers."
"You're welcome but like I said, don't count on it."
"Don't worry," he says, voice smooth as melted chocolate, as he lifts my chin with his fingers, forcing my weak blue eyes to gaze into his strong ones, "I won't."

Distracted, I stare down at my own work but suddenly find that I am unable to focus on it. Why did he do that? Maybe he wanted to strongly show how greatful he was. But I did barely a thing. I instruct myself not to dwell on it, instead to move on: it meant nothing.

A/N done! Hope you enjoyed it. The chapter took me a surprisingly long time to write but never mind

Bye.... x
Lolakitten123 xxxxxxxxxx