Class of Misfits

eight | Clara

"They say you shouldn't be someone you're not, but what if that's what people expect you to be?"

"They're out, they're out!" Emma squealed in delight, and took off running. Clara put on a look of enthusiasm and trailed after her, not having a clue as to what Emma was talking about.

Emma stopped next to the window of Mrs. Alvarez, their math teacher. There was already a huge crowd of tenth graders, straining to see the paper posted on the window. Clara could make out the words "Mid-Semester Progress Report" on the top, in big, bold letters.

Emma let out another squeal.

"Ninety-eight percent! What did you get, Clars?"

Clara scanned through the list, looking for her student ID number. 2109, 2110, 2111, 2112... there it was - 2124.

Eighty-seven percent.

Clara's heart skipped one, two, three beats. Surely she'd read it wrong?

No, it couldn't be that Clara Cheng, the second smartest girl in their class, had got an eighty-seven percent. It just wasn't possible.

But then again, it had happened.

"Um, ninety-seven percent. Boy, am I stupid!" She laughed nervously, hoping Emma wouldn't be able to tell her lie.

Emma grinned.

"Nice job!"

"Thanks." Clara was now sweating nervously.

It wasn't even that the score was terrible. It was bad, but manageable, and she knew that she could bring it up. No, it was the fear of what her twin would say if she found out, what everyone else would say if they found out.

Just for once, Clara wanted to known as something besides the "smart kid". For once, she wanted to have fun, to have a life of more than just hard work. But that would never happen, not with Emma as her twin.

Emma continued to make her way down the hall, and Clara followed suit. They stopped at the front of Mrs. Phelps's room, where yet another progress report waited them.

Clara cringed inwardly, then slowly scanned the list, dread creeping up her spine.

2124... Ninety-one percent.

Clara almost cried in frustration. Why was this happening?

Emma let out another squeal. "Ninety-nine point seven!"

Clara managed a weak smile.

"Lucky you. I got a ninety-eight." She frowned. "I think I'm getting a headache. You can go on without me."

Emma's face reflected the frown.

"You okay? I have some tea bags in my room."

"I'm good. I think I just need some rest."

Emma shrugged and joined the crowd, chattering happily to Donna.

Clara sighed, then took the elevator to the twelfth floor. Since it was a Saturday morning, most people would be lounging in the courtyard, or out in the fields. She walked into the common room, then made her way to the hall in which the dorm rooms resided.

She could hear arguing from the room across hers, the one that belonged to Laurie and Wisteria.

Clara plopped onto her bed and sighed.

✽✽✽

As the first dinner bell rang, Clara made her way to the elevator, but bumped into something in her path. A startled Diva yelped and dropped the box she was holding.