The Iron Soldier: A FourTris Divergent Story

Chapter 14

AN: I just wanted to take a quick moment to thank everyone out there who has read, favorited, is following or written a review of my story so far. It means so much to me.  I can't wait till the day I can announce that my first book is being published.

Monday mornings are the worst. Especially when you are awake till 3am the night before. My brain won't shut down. It's stuck in a loop between what to do about my article and how to find out who my mystery kisser is. I have never been very interested in dating or romance, but after being kissed at the charity event on Saturday, I can't get it out of my mind.

I haven't been in a relationship since senior year in high school. My heart was broken so bad, I haven't had any interest to try it again. Peter was his name. We dated exclusively for nine months when he started pressuring me to move to the next step in our relationship. Even though I wasn't mentally ready, I gave in. We rented a hotel room on prom night. Less than a week later, he broke up with me.

I thought I was in love with him. But even during the best part of our relationship, kissing him never felt like the kiss I received in the privacy of that tent. As much as I wanted to believe Peter loved me, everything about our relationship was about pleasing him. It wasn't until I was talking to Christina about Will that I realized what love was supposed to be like. As much as I wanted to feel the same thing, I never thought it would happen for me. I am nothing special to look at. My body closer resembles a fourteen year old boy, than the curves a woman my age should have, and my personality has a tendency to scare men away before they have a chance to get to know me.

This is why I can't get that kiss out of my mind. I spent nine months thinking I was in love, but never really felt wanted when we kissed, and yet, a complete stranger kisses me and I suddenly feel like the most desirable woman on the planet. How did he make me feel that way? Will I ever feel that again if I can't discover his identity?

The study lounge is quiet. The antique grandfather clock on the lower level chimes, alerting me I only have fifteen more minutes until my journalism class. "I'm supposed to have a general idea of what my article will be about. I still can't think of a single thing that might be good enough to land me the internship.

I growl as I drum my fingers on the table in front of me. Focus Tris! I stare at my hands, and then follow the still healing scratches up my arm before it finally hits me. The robbery at Carlos's store, one of the few real news stories we've had in town recently, and I was right there through the whole thing, a key witness. That's it!

I start to write like a mad woman for the next ten minutes until I hear the bell for the end of the period. We will be meeting with Mrs. Mathews individually in class to discuss our ideas for our article. I'm able to walk into class, finally optimistic about my article.

I am sitting in Mrs. Mathews office after class. She's been silent longer than I'd expect. Surely she can't still be reading my pitch. I've been here before. It wasn't unusual for her to ask me to stay after class to go over an assignment, but she's usually smiling or showing some sign of liking my idea. This time she's quiet.

After what feels like an eternity, she places my paper down on the desk, before pulling her reading glasses off to hang from the chain around her neck.

"Well Beatrice. I'm not too sure what to say to this. It's not your best work." Her head tilts slightly. "You are one of the best writers in this class. I had high hopes for you winning this internship. But to tell you the truth, this isn't going to get you there. I realize not a lot happens in this town, but you are the fourth to present this idea as the premise for the final assignment. Being that you were actually involved with the hold up, is a definite plus, but it's just not enough."

"Not enough?" I'm taken aback. "I had a gun aimed at my head and a friend of mine ended up in the hospital with a gunshot wound."

"I'm aware of that. You included both points in your summary. But this isn't going to catch the eye of the chief editor from the largest paper in New York City." Her eyes stare into mine. "Anyone can write down a bunch of facts about a robbery and make it news. But if you want to win this internship, you need to stand out. Turn something that isn't big news into an interesting story. Bring something to the table that is not common knowledge. Turn an ordinary event into a news story. That is what will catch the editor's attention."

My breath escapes my lips in a frustrated sigh. "You're right."

"The other students who presented this story for their idea, I gave them my approval. Because frankly, they are not New York Beat worthy reporters. Some day they may end up writing for a small town paper or a low circulation magazine, but they don't have the talent or the drive that you do. You have huge potential as an investigative reporter. I would be doing you an injustice if I let you submit this as your final grade." Her face changes from disapproval to concern. "I'm actually very surprised to be saying this to you. You've never had a problem coming up with amazing story ideas in the past. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything is fine. I guess I just let myself get distracted over the weekend."

"That's understandable." She smiles genuinely. "How is your friend doing, the shop owner?"

"He should make a full recovery. He was very lucky. The bullet missed all vital organs."

"I'm very pleased to hear that." Her glance falls down to her hands briefly, then back to meet mine. "I know it must feel unfair for me to push you like this, especially with what you've been through recently, but I know how hard you've worked the last four years, and I won't let you throw that away over some emotional trauma. I want a new pitch on my desk by Friday."

I can do nothing but nod. Everything she's said is true and I'm grateful she is standing behind me. Not too many people believe in me the way she does. "Okay. I'll get on it right away."

She smiles one more time before dismissing me.

What do I do now? I told my professor I'd been distracted, which was the truth. Although what I was distracted with was not what she thought and it made me question myself. I hadn't thought about Carlos since I had visited him on Saturday morning. I'd been too preoccupied with other things that suddenly seemed unimportant. How could I be so selfish? This isn't me at all. I needed to get back on track.

The fact that I was there at an attempted robbery, with a gun pointed at me, still felt like a great place to find my story. I just needed to present it differently to make it more than an everyday convenience store hold up. I needed a new angle. I decided the best place to start might be to look up what the local paper had written up.

The home town paper, The Courier, only comes out once a week, on Wednesday. That would explain why no one had asked me about the incident yet. I don't really have time to wait two days, but I'm willing to bet the story is on their website already. I have about an hour before my next class. That should give me plenty of time to look up the article and still give me some time to grab a quick lunch. I glance at my watch quickly before heading for the campus library.