“Now class,” said the teacher, “for homework you will write a two page story inspired by Bright Star by Keats turn it into class in the morning. That means the beginning of class, Amy.” I looked around for the student that the teacher was pointing out and saw the blushing cheerleader who was tormenting me.
Clara raised a finger in a shame, shame motion toward Amy and then giggled. I was too cross to giggle with her. The bell rang and she stopped goofing off as I stood up. Then she was all professional. “Your next class is Physics, but you probably want to divert by the nurses office.”
I walked out in the heard of students while Clara carried my schedule and the map of the school. “Let’s stop by a bathroom so I can change,” I said.