I am Clara

Three Children Arguing

Both Andrews and I slept through our alarms, arriving late for first period. I had spent a good portion of my morning trying, unsuccessfully, to earn Mimpi's attention, and because of it, we had left home around the same time the first bell rang. I hoped Anna didn't find out about the lateness and then caught sleeping in class bit. She was already on edge. I feared she'd soon discover what we had been up to. The local News was blowing my cover.

       That morning, Andrews and I stood behind Anna, sat on the living room couch, as she watched the latest episode that held the potential to ruin my life. The anchor man was describing the man the police had found, along with a picture of Andrews and I holding the bedsheet containing the limp body. The picture was blurry and dark, our faces completely covered by our hoods, but the odds of Anna recognizing our clothing were very high. Despite the sweater I stole from Andrews my long blond braid was very visible, as was my white skirt. It was the same outfit and hair style I had worn when she found us in the hall. I feared she'd recognize Andrews, most. His dark green sweater and blue stripped boxers were noticeable, and I was certain she was more than capable of recognizing her son's shape and worn-out clothes. Making a quick exit, we avoided her interrogation, briefly catching sight of the headline, Hero or Villain?

      "In their defence, no one knows that Kundanskie's people attack first. No one knows the idiots plan to get rid of me and then proceed to kill the unworthy, which to them is probably the whole damn world."

      "Huh?"

      "Never mind," I chuckled at his puzzled face. "We need to be more careful. No more accidental camera mishaps. Ready to have the entire school talk about you all day, without actually knowing they're talking about you... Robin?"

      "Robin?" he asked, eyebrows raised, excitedly getting into the truck. Yep, that one word may have been a mistake.

      It seemed Robin was taking his helper role very seriously. He had decided that even our school breaks would be dedicated to training. I had barely finished eating my lunch before he was dragging me towards the gym. I didn't know what he had planned, but my gut told I wouldn't enjoy it.

      Nearing the gym entrance, we crossed paths with the baseball team. I paid them little attention, but Andrews stopped dead in his tracks upon meeting the captain's eyes.

      "Toby knows," he said, voice high with panic, watching the other boy's deep frown.

     "Toby does not know," I said. "He only suspects. He will know if you continue to act like that, though."

      Briefly taking his attention away from Toby, he narrowed his eyes at me.

      "I can play it cool," he said offended, and then proceeded to prove that he really couldn't. "Looking good, Ackerman!"

      Groaning, I rubbed my eyes tiredly, dragging my hands down the rest of my face. Toby, who's frown only deepened, stepped away from his teammates, now approaching myself and the idiot who clearly could not play it cool.

      "Can't talk!" I called, pushing Andrews ahead of me. "Sorry. Andrews had the chicken surprise and he's not doing well."

      Not daring to look back, I pushed Andrews through the gym doors, far from the team headed for the field. Safely out of Toby's sight, hidden inside the gymnasium, I hit Andrews behind the head.

      "Who taught you that playing cool was hitting on the person you're trying to avoid?"

      Andrews made a startled noise. "I was not hitting on him!"

      "Could have fooled me." I laughed loudly when he groaned and hid his face in his hands upon realizing his mistake. I didn't laugh long. A familiar voice called my name.