A Tale Of Two Halves

Chapter 1

Walking down the bustling school corridor, I keep my head low as usual and grip the small pile of books closer to my chest. The noise of chatter, lockers slamming and a gaggle of Riches taunting a cowering Poor rings through my ears and I resist the urge to break into a run. "Oi 304!" a voice calls and I wince at the sound of my number. 'Just let me get to class, pleaseeee,' I beg in my head. My pace quickens. It's easy to believe I haven't heard them in the noise of the corridor but I still dread to think what would happen if whoever it was found out I'd ignored their call.

I hear the voice call again, rougher this time and I prepare myself to spin around and face the noise when...crash! My books spill from my hands as I collide with a tall figure. Shit shit shit. I crouch low to gather up my books, hands shaking and praying that I haven't just barged right into a Rich. The figure crouches down to my level and I breathe a sigh of relief and feel myself physically relax slightly. It must be a Poor - no Rich would ever lower themselves to our level. "I'm so sorry, I totally bulldozed you there!" the figure says with a chuckle whilst scooping up a few of the dropped books. Grabbing the rest, I stand and look at him.

What the fuck? It doesn't make sense. He is dressed from head to toe in black: black skinny jeans hug his thin but muscular legs, and a black short-sleeved t-shirt clings to his chest. The sure sign of a Rich. "I'm...I'm so sorry," I stutter as a lump rises into my throat.
"No sweat,' he says casually. "I'm Hardin."
It isn't making any sense and every fibre of my being is telling me to run. Even just speaking to him has been a mistake that could come with consequences. My head spins with confusion and my heart pounds in my chest as I run through the rules that have been drilled into me since the day I arrived here.

1. Don't speak unless you are spoken to.
2. Always ask permission (this one I always find particularly and unhelpfully vague).
3. Do as a Rich tells you without question.
4. Remember, with everything you think and do, a Rich is above you.

Well, I suppose he has spoken to me?
"Please may I go to class?" I whisper.
His brow furrows and a flicker of confusion fills his sapphire-blue eyes. Even in my fearful state, I still appreciate how beautiful those eyes were. Come on, I'm still a woman after all.
"Erm, sure," he says, confusion also clear in his voice. "You-"

I don't wait around for him to finish. I had asked for permission and he had given it. I slide past him and make the final steps towards my English classroom. The door is open and I hear a bubble of voices coming from inside. Walking through the doorway, I spot Elsie sitting in her normal seat in the back row, my empty chair next to her. She smiles and I make my way towards her through the aisles of desks.

Nearly made it. Nearly. But not quite. A large hand reaches across the aisle, blocking my path. "Hey, 304. Looking forward to seeing you later. Real huge party at my house last night. Place is a mess. Hope you're ready," Jared sneers. A vile chunk of a man, if you could even call him that, Jared seemed to have taken it upon himself to make my life even more miserable than it already is since his arrival from a different zone 3 months ago.
"Yes sir," I answer, trying to keep the venom out of my voice. My disdain for him only seemed to spur him on, and so I made an effort these days to be sickly sweet to him.
"Right answer. See you soon Poor," he spits the last word out obnoxiously and lifts his hand for me to pass. I move forwards and just when I think I'm out of his reach, I feel his hand smack me on the bum. Hard. I wince and suck in my breath, forcing myself not to turn around and punch him square in his face. No Tessa, no. My eyes find Elsie's, who looks terrified that I was about to lamp the idiot. Damn she knows me too well. And I bloody love her for it.

I reach my seat and sit down. "God I hate him," I seethe.
Elsie giggles. "I know you do. We all hate him." She's suddenly serious. "But you must remember to keep it together Tess. You can't afford to let him get to you."
"I know. But my god I'd love to see his face if I whacked the smile off it. Just once," I say, smiling at the thought.
Elsie laughs again. "Really Tess? You're tiny, for one. He'd barely even feel it, even if you gave it your best shot!"
"Alright Mike Tyson," I laugh back, "I'd like to see you try!"
"You know I wouldn't dare. What's your schedule today?"
"I'm at work straight after this. It's a late one too," I sigh, exaggerating rolling my eyes in annoyance. "What about you?"
"Just the lunch shift for me today. Give me your homework at the end of the lesson and I'll get it done for you tonight."
"Thanks," I smile and squeeze her hand. God, what would I do without her? Since arriving here, the family that we Poor's have created is the only good thing that has happened to me. We knew how shit this situation was, and so we tried our best to help each other out when we could.
"I'm just hoping it's easy - you know I suck at Engl-who on earth is that?"

I follow the path of her eyes to find my corridor collider standing in the doorway. His eyes scan the room and settle on me. I swallow. As he makes a beeline for me, Elsie squeezes my hand back and says fearfully, "Tessa. Why is he coming over here? What did you do?" But I can't speak. Why is he making his way towards the Poor rows? Doesn't he know that Riches sit at the front?

"You left before I could give you your books back," he says, laying the books on the desk infront of me. "Sorry again, I hope I didn't hurt you?" he asks with genuine concern in his voice. Who is this guy? And why won't my voice work? The rules Tessa, the rules! He's spoken to you woman!

"Tessa," Elsie whispers, nudging my hand and trying to snap me out of my shock.
"Tessa," he repeats, smiling as my name comes from his lips. Damn he's got nice lips.
Sensing that I wasn't going to speak, he turns to Elsie. "Hi, I'm Hardin," he says.
"Hello, sir," Elsie says, and her face reflects the confused image that mine must be showing.
"Sir? I'm afraid I nearly killed your friend earlier. Seems she might have a slight concussion," he laughs, looking at my stupidly frozen face.
"Hardin!" a voice calls from the front of the classroom. "What are you doing with them? Get over here man!"
Hardin smiles, says, "Well, I'm sorry again," and strides towards the front of the room. A group of Riches take turns clapping him on the back and shaking his hand before pulling him down into a seat on the second row.

"What the fuck was that?" Elsie whispers, shaking my shoulders to knock me out of my trance. "Who is that sexy man and why was he just talking to us?!"
"I have no idea," I reply, finally managing to speak. "I ran straight into him in the corridor earlier, but I have no idea what that was."
"I've never seen him before. He must be a transfer," Elsie replies. "It doesn't make sense though. He's clearly a Rich, why did he just speak to us like we we're actual human beings and not something he's stepped in?"
"Not a clue," I reply, dazed as the teacher begins the lesson. The next hour whizzes by and as the bell rings at the end of the lesson, I realise I haven't heard a single word the teacher has said and have instead spent the entire hour staring at the back of Hardin's head.