Agent Tris

Rude much?

MEET THE NEW MEMBER OF MY FAMILY^^^
Chapter Three-Rude Much?

I sit down as the interactive whiteboard flickers to life. The teacher is a small frail woman with greasy blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun, yet her voice is surprisingly strong, I can tell the class respects her.

"Okay Class, today we are starting a topic a student suggested a few weeks ago, I understand that a lot of people in this class are a fan of the teen CIA agent, Beatrice, Tris Prior!" Christina the people she introduced me to earlier all freak out a little. Once again, Four makes no sound, just a small hmmm sound.

"Can any one tell me what Tris is also known as?"
Practically the while class shove their hands in the air, and the teacher points to some kid I don't know.

"Lauren."

"Miss, she's known as The Angel with a Shotgun, after the song that was playing on her iPod when she was found, her family dead around her." I almost make it through the whole lesson of people discussing pictures of me and what they think about my life without having to speak.

"What do you think of her?" I'm almost shocked at Fours voice.

"Erm, well, I guess she's brave." Four sighs.

"Really? Am I the only person who sees the real her." I click the recorder on my ear piece on.

"What do you think of her then?" I ask.

"That she's a selfish bitch. I mean, it's her fault her family died, and now she's somewhere risking peoples lives as she pretends to be someone else. She's never going to be able to have a normal life and should accept that. And on top of that she's ugly as shit." I look away from him, trying hard not to react, I can usually hide all my reactions, emotions, feelings, from anyone.

"Tally? Sorry, did you like her?" Four actually sounds worried.

"What would you do if you ever met her?" I ask, dismissing his question. Four seems baffled.

"I don't know. I guess I'd get cross with her, it's not like she has any feelings, she's a monster that deserves every bad thing that happens to her." I nod, click the recorder off and our previous silence continues for the remainder of the lesson.

I head to Gym alone and don't bother getting changed I just walk out with the others once they are dressed to our two teachers arguing.

"What are you arguing about this time!" Someone shouts.

"Eric said no one from this class would be able to knock a punching bag from its hooks in three kicks or less!" Amar shouts.

"It's true!" Eric fights back.

"Tell you what, pick any kid in here and if they knock off the bag then the rest of the year will be full of self-defensive and fun, no conditioning and stuff." The class seems excited by this prospect and Eric grins at me evilly.

"Hey broken, go on, boot off." I lean down and un strap the boot to reveal my bare foot.

"Come on Eric, she'll never do it!" Someone complains. That makes me want to do it, I know I can.

"Hey Eric, how about if I do it in one kick, we have fun lessons for the rest of the year, and you buy us all chocolate."

"Fine broken. You won't do it." Eric says. I prepare myself then do a forceful roundhouse kick, the bag is ripped from it's chains and flies three meters. The class stares open mouthed. Amar looks like he'd going to make a comment but keeps quiet. Eric just looks pissed.

"Well, since your foot seems fine, you can do gym." I smile and shake my head.

"Hearing aid and my wrist. Anyway. My ankle's still weak." If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under.

"CLASS DISMISSED!" He spits. Everyone cheers and runs out, I sit down and strap my boot back on. Amar comes over to me and crouches on my left side.

"I knew your mother, she had the exact same kick as you Tris Prior." My eyes widen, he pats my shoulder.

"I'll never tell, you deserve to be happy." He walks off and on my way out I punch the wall, angry with myself.