Clever's Will

Chapter 1

I wake up to my alarm clock and immediately slam my pillow on my head, crushing it to my ears. My feeble attempt to block the noise fails, and grudgingly I silence the alarm clock and roll out of bed. Time to get ready for another day at school. How mundane.

I walk to my mirror and nearly flinch as I notice the current state of my bright red hair. Saying it looked tangled would be an understatement. I sigh; today would take a lot of effort.

My green eyes eventually adjust to the light after the gruesome time it took to shape my hair into a decent style. Nothing extravagant; my usual pony tail, and like any other day I'll slip on a hoodie and some jeans. I like to keep things simple.

I slide down the staircase railing and slip past my family eating at the kitchen table, swiping a pop tart as I go.

"Clever!" My mom calls; stopping me half way out the door. "We have a plate set for you, come eat breakfast."

Yes, my name is Clever, and yes, I've heard just about every joke imaginable. My name is like an open invitation for people to mock me. Of course, my parents didn't anticipate this for me when they gave me the name; in fact, the reasoning behind it was purely sentimental. Basically, my parents lived this dramatic love story; they eloped, got married in a town in Missouri, a town called Clever. It could have been worse, way worse, I mean, my brother's name is Whistler. He was named after their favourite painting. They're artists, what can I say?

"I've got breakfast covered!" I call from my kitchen's back door.

"You need a balanced breakfast!" Dad says. "Put down the pop tart! We have bacon!"

"Clever," Mom says. "For the love of nutrition, please sit down and at least have some toast!"

"This one is strawberry flavour!" I say. "It's healthy enough!" Before my parents can protest further I'm out the door and off to school.

*

The walk to school is by far the second best part of my day; my favourite being the walk home from school. As I go, I like to look up at the trees and watch the sun leak through the leaves. Believe me, I know it's stupid, and doing this has resulted in my face becoming well acquainted with the sidewalk, but I can't stop myself. I've always been the type to stare at the sky.

My first few moments of solitude end as my best friend joins me on the walk to school.

Milly and I were destined to be best friends. Let me be clear, I'm not spouting bullshit here; our parents literally coordinated pregnancies and organized play dates for us for as long as either of us can remember. She lives ridiculously close to me too; another thing our parents coordinated. With that being said, I can't say I'd actually be friends with the girl if our parents hadn't interfered.

Milly is the queen of extra curricular activities. She's the president of every single club imaginable, every teacher's favourite student, and everyone likes her too much to label her as the teacher's pet. Me? I'm your lazy, under-talented, average B+ student. I aim to get through school, not soak it all in like Milly. Despite our opposite personalities and the occasional fights we have, I'm glad I have her; making friends was never my strong suit.

"Did you do the homework?" Milly says as she catches up to me.

"Nah," I say. "He never checks anyways."

"But you have to get an A on the next test," Milly says. "You need a B in the class, or else you can't come with me to Rio during winter break."

Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention; Mil's family is crazy rich. I guess that's what happens when your parents are two bankers instead of two artists like mine. But I guess I use her parents to get a taste of a spoiled kid's lifestyle. It all works out.

I should also add that Milly is gorgeous. Yep, blonde and everything, basically that girl you hate for having it all, but can't hate cause she's too much of a nice person. It's a good thing I'm not the jealous type, because our friendship would have ended years ago, believe me.

"I'll handle it Mil," I say. "Don't you worry."

We chatter about the importance of homework for some time, until the third piece of our golden trio strolls in, saving me from an abundance of nagging.

"Top of the morning, ladies," Virgil says, sliding between us; his arms stretching around our shoulders.

That's Virgil. He's kinda like a walking joke, and I say that in the nicest way possible. Me and Mil met Virg when he moved here during junior high. The kid had this spark to his personality; he still has it to this day. He was always off beat, with curly brown hair falling in his face. Of course, when he moved here, he wasn't prepared for the cliques.

Of course, you either fit or you don't, and Virg could never fit into any of the established cliques. Close didn't cut it, so he came to us; the people on the outskirts. Technically, Milly could join the peppy popular clique of bobble heads anytime she wanted, but I refuse to let her walk that path. It's my duty as a friend to keep her away from that shit.

"Virg," Milly says. "Did you do the homework?"

"Is that a trick question?" Virgil says.

"Ugh," Milly says. "Seriously guys?"

"You're acting like this is out of character for us," I say.

"Do you even know us at all?" Virgil says, his mouth agape.

"Why do I even ask . . ." Milly sighs. "I guess it doesn't matter."

"You're correct there, Mildred," Virgil says.

"I'm going to ignore that," Milly says, her jaw tight. "Because I actually have something to tell the both of you."

"New boyfriend?" Virgil says.

"No--" Milly says.

"New girlfriend?" he says.

"No!" Milly says. "Just shut up for a second!" Virgil takes his arm from her shoulder and zips his lips with an invisible zipper. "Thank you. Look, we're having company for lunch today."

Virgil then unzips his invisible zipper. "Who?" He says. "You know how we feel about . . . strangers."

"It's just one lunch," Milly says. "It's my turn for welcoming committee today."

"A new kid?" I say. "It's almost November."

"It happens," she says. "And I really want you guys to be nice."

"Is lunch a part of the welcoming committee's duties?" Virgil says. "Or are you taking things too seriously again?"

"Look," Milly says. "I don't know what's it's like to be in a completely new place; I've grown up here all my life, but I know if I was the new kid I'd really appreciate it if someone went out of their way and tried to be welcoming. Okay?"

"We see your point," I say. "Don't worry, we won't scare them . . . too much."

"Speak for yourself," says Virgil.

"Guys," Milly says. "Please, I really want this to go well."

"I was only joking," Virgil says. "I promise, we'll do our best."

"Absolutely," I say.

"Thank you both," Milly says. "I mean it."

"With that being said," Virgil says. "If they do get freaked out by our general creepiness, then we can't be held accountable."

"Shut up, Virg," Milly says.

"I'll take your suggestion into account," Virgil says.

I laugh, even though a part of me worries. I'm just not good at people, I try to be but I make mistakes. Unfamiliarity makes me uncomfortable. I live by my routines; I like knowing what to expect, and I don't like disruptions in my life. I tell myself it'll be fine, it's just today, and the new kid will find his clique and we'll move on like normal. Today I'd just have to put in a little more effort. I'll do it, mainly because I have to.