Tris's Point of View
The alarm goes off on my phone which is conveniently across the room. My hand stumbles around me for something to throw at it. I come across a black flat and chuck it at the phone. It doesn't shut up. I roll off my bed and get up. I turn the alarm off and go downstairs to eat breakfast. I rummage through the cabinets and find a box of cheerios. Not my favorite, but it will have to suffice. As I pour the milk into the bowl of cereal, I hear my brother come down the stairs.
"Look at you all prim and proper." I tease.
"Shut up." He glares.
He is wearing a plaid button down shirt tucked into kakai pants. It's our first day here in Chicago since we moved from Tennessee during the summer of our sophomore year. My parents said we needed 'change', and that was the day I thought they turned into Obama. Nether the less, we moved. When I'm done with my breakfast, I walk back upstairs to get changed. First day, first impression -at least that's what my parents say. I decide to wear blue jeans, black vans, a red beanie, a white t-shirt, silver stud earrings, and a long silver Eiffel tower necklace. I then brush my teeth and put on a little makeup with a darker red lipstick.
In some ways, I am glad we moved here because my room is beautiful. It's a huge room with its own bathroom and walk-in closet connected onto it. The walls were painted a light lavender color with white furnishings and a huge balcony looking at a gigantic oak tree and lights wrapped around the railing. Then, a desk area is offset from the rest of the room, containing glass walls and glass roof. The only reason that I got everything I wanted was because my parents are rich. My mom is a brain surgeon and my dad is the CEO of a car company.
"Love you!" I yell to the house.
"Love you too!" My parents respond.
I walk outside to my 2015 black convertable corvette. The cold hits me like a wall of bricks, so I put my black leather jacket on. I then get into my car and drive off to school. When I get out of my car, everyone stares at me. I awkwardly lock my car and fast walk inside. My mom earlier took me here as a tour to get used to the place, because let me tell you: it is huge. The school is exactly like a stereotypical high school. I walk towards the administrative office to get my school schedule and find a plump lady sitting in her chair looking at the computer.
"Ahem." I cough. She doesn't look up.
"Excuse me?" I ask louder.
She looks up with a bored look. "May I help you?" She asks.
"I'm here for my schedule." I reply.
She turns in her chair and goes through a stack of papers. She then shoves me the paper and turns back to her computer. I turn away looking at the schedule. Then, someone bumps into me. I fall back while the figure only staggers. I get back up but everyone is looking and smirking. Some are even looking shocked and frightened. I look up. There stands a guy with black sunglasses, black slightly cut jeans, black vans, a grey t-shirt, and a black jacket. He also has short mohawk hair that is a dark brown with bits of gold.
"Watch where you're going newbie." He threatens with a little bit of
I'm going to kill you in his voice. His voice is deep and crisp.
I stare at him for a moment, a thoughtful stare. He looks like the joking type so I reply with something sarcastic.
"Calm your tits man. It was an accident."
He stares at me for a moment, then scowls, then stalks off. All of a sudden, the hallway goes back to its normal chattering and a tall, mocha skin colored girl walks up to me.
"How did you do that?! If anybody else walked up to him and said that, he would've chewed them up, spit them out, killed them, thrown them into a fire, and burned the remains!" She exclaims. We both start laughing. "I'm Christina, by the way. You can call me Chris."
"Chris...I like it. I'm Tris. I just moved here." I explain.
"Ah. Let me show you my friends." She says as she motions to the pavillion.
We walk over to a picnic table full of girls. "Hey, guys. This is Tris. She's new here. Tris, this is Marlene, Shauna, Lynn, Alex, and Catrina." Chris explains. They all wave and exchange hellos and hi's.
*bell rings*
"What class do you have?" I ask Chris real quick.
"History with Mrs. Thompson, you?" She asks.
I smirk. "Same thing." We then walk together to class.
Let the fun begin...
YOU ARE READING
Divergent High
FanfictionEvery writer had that one cliché about their OTP. This story will be about Tris and Four, along with their friends, in high school. Four is the bad boy who has been abused by his father ever since he was little. Tris is a newbie who has two loving p...
