White Walls [DIVERGENT]

9. Secrets

"Put your open lips on mine then slowly let them shut. For they're designed to be together, oh."

Tris:

The weight of my camera in the backpack is making my shoulders ache, the textbooks inside adding to the tension. With only a few months left in school, I've applied to several universities in the state as well as some in other states, rather close to Chicago. Most of the schools I've applied for have some sort of photography course within the semesters, but I do plan on becoming a major in psychology.

So far, my record is actually pretty clean. The last thing I need is getting in so much trouble that it would jeopardize whether or not I get into any of the universities.

Which means that I won't be allowed to take any pictures on school grounds, being that the principal has prohibited me from using my camera. I know I won't be able to control myself if a moment comes up where I really want to make it into a photograph. If that time does come around, I hope it's not during school hours.

The hallway is merely empty, just a couple of people wandering--either ditching or having a free period. I do have a free period, which means that I can go home now being that I don't have any classes after this.

Opening up my rusted locker, I'm immediately greeted by the smell of metal, an eerie stench that makes my nostrils burn. I cringe, digging my hand deep into the locker, aiming to retrieve the document that arrived this morning.

To: Beatrice Prior
969 Mainee Crescent
Chicago, Illinois

From: Maypole Studios
8203 Collingwood Road
Chicago, Illinois

It arrived last night. Mom forced me to go do some errands, which included checking the mail. So, while scavenging the tiny mailbox for any letters or flyers, I came across this letter from a photography studio.

I still don't know why they've contacted me; I never applied for the studio. Hell, I don't even have a photography portfolio. Yet, here I am, standing alone in the hallway with a letter from the most well-known wedding studio in Illinois.

For whatever reason, I have the slightest suspicion that Tobias knows something I don't. Chances are that he met up with someone who works at Maypole and showed him some of the stuff I've given him; which is basically a lot of pictures I've taken.

Which is the main reason why I'm waiting for him.

So that I can ask him about Maypole.

And maybe because I just want to spend time with him.

Ever since our date, it's been almost impossible to not think about him. For instance, today I had an exam on European Geography and during a vast majority of time, Tobias managed to sneak into my thoughts. Every time I completed a question, somehow the next one would correlate to our relationship.

Looking down at the document again, my fingers tremble. Why are they sending me a letter? They don't have any scholarships—it's not even a school. All you do there is find a wedding planner who needs a photographer, then take pictures at the couple's wedding. You do, however, get paid a lot of money for it.

The chance of them asking me to work at Maypole is ridiculously small, especially because I'm only seventeen. Also being I have no professional background of photography yet.

If they do offer me a job there, then maybe, just maybe, I can ask mom to let me help her with weddings and all, being that she's a wedding planner. But she's so sophisticated and elegant that proclaiming to her clients that they should hire me as their wedding photographer would seem selfish; as if the money they're already spending on my mother isn't enough; like our family needs even more money.