Who am I?

Before.

          The clock seems like it's stuck at two twenty. Only ten minutes until school ends.
I glance at the window seeing the partially bare trees, leaves cling to thin branches. The grass is short and gray colored, patches of dirt scatter the soccer field. The voice of the teacher drones on in a long symphony of nothing. He was talking about some kind of quadratic formula. I look at the board with confirms my thoughts, a long evasion full of a's and b's is plastered on the wall in chalk. I don't understand why we use so many letters in math if it's all about numbers and stuff.
          I look around the room to see sleepy faces of people I'm not really friends with. I've talked to most of them, but it's not really talking if you just say hello. The clock reads two twenty three. I slouch in my seat as I stare at the back of some boy's head.
         "Clare," the teachers monotone voice calls from the front of the room. I sit up in my seat, my fingers feel at the hem of my shirt.
          "Yes," I say nervously.
          "Could you tell the class what a is?" The teacher stands at the board rubbing her chalk covered hands against her thighs.
          "Uh, is it twel-" I start.
          The bell rings throughout the hall and all the kids gather their things.
          "See you tomorrow, make sure you memorize this equation." Our teacher says.
          My fingers rub at the fabric of my shirt as I swing my bag over my shoulder. I head out to the sound filled hall. Everyone is talking and laughing. I push my way through the busy hall and stop at my locker. I head outside. I see my mom's silver van parked directly out front. Cars line the parking lot like a delicate display framed by the misty blue of the sky. When I get closer to the car I see that my sister is in the passenger seat. I hop in the seat behind my sister and push my heavy bag onto the seat beside me. As we pull out of the parking lot I put my headphones in.
          I can tell my mom is talking to me from the front, her eyes search my face in the mirror for my response. I'm not in the mood to talk so I flip through my Spotify list. My little sister turns around to face me, a smile lights up her face. Her mouth is moving quickly. Droplets of sweat line the edge of her face. I take out one earbud to remind her to buckle her seatbelt which is hanging uselessly beside her. She ignores me and keeps talking.