Tris and Tobias- A High School Experience

A brief encounter with Tris Prior and Tobias Eaton in a normal high school.


1. Prolouge

I run my hand through my thin auburn hair and stride over to my usual seat. My friends greet me as I gracefully slide into the old oak chair, placing my folders down on the table and stretching my legs out. All the bones in my feet crackle as I exhale, still sore from fitness tests. The vivid class around me drones away and becomes white noise as I begin to nibble on the ends of my nails, failing to amuse myself as the minutes drag on. The second hand of my neon wristwatch stubbornly refusing to move.

"I'm here, I'm here, sorry I'm late." Mr. Anderson gushes into the class, bits of paper flying around him and his shiny bald head. "Sorry about that," he mumbles once again. The visualiser buzzes to life as he frantically organizes his desk, desperately trying to compose himself.

"There, Today we will be taking our mid term CAT exam," he chimes and begins to hastily fast walks up and down the rows of miserable children, throwing a packet of papers on each desk."You have 65 minutes, begin." 

I quit biting my nails long enough to finish the exam and hand it in to Mr. Anderson. He doesn't seem surprised to see me as I place the papers on his desk, already expecting me to finish early. My report card is like a jammed record, it repeatedly screams A's all the way down to the bottom of the page. I shuffle back to my chair and continue to bite my nails and stretch my legs until the bell rings. It shrieks like a siren and the class begins to finish up there tests. Frantically jamming in as much as they can. 

Packing up my stuff, my friends walk past me in a fit of giggles.

"You coming," they ask, already heading out the door.

"Just a sec," I reply, practically jumping over desks to get to them. I shuffle out of the class into the wide hallway, following behind like a stray puppy dog. We walk through the crowd of kids and teachers to my locker, me stopping as they continue, swept away into the crowd. Yanking my locker door open, I begin to gather my textbooks for math and check my shabby, torn up schedule.


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