CHAPTER THREE: CLARA

  CLARA

  Clara didn’t get the hype around the new boy. Sure, he was attractive and seemed kind, but that was about it. Nothing about him sparked her interest in any way other than that he was new.

  She sighed, twirling her pencil in her hand, abandoning the notes she’d started writing earlier in class. She knew she should study—especially when she was counting on getting a scholarship to get into a good college and support her family—she tried, she really did. However, seeing her grades slip from an A+ to a B wasn’t really the best motivator, along with her mother’s constant yelling. She still loved her, though. After all, she gave birth and raised her and her five siblings alone. That was a feat no ordinary person could accomplish.

  Clara made an inaudible gasp as she watched a paper airplane land on her desk, just as Mrs. Garcia’s back was turned, as she was writing something on the board. Clara quickly took the airplane, carefully dismantling it to reveal the words written on the piece of paper hastily before Mrs. Garcia caught her.

  Once she was done, she scanned the paper carefully, taking in the words written on it.

  U OK?

  Clara smiled. She recognised that handwriting—especially when it came from her only friend. Well, her only close friend, that is. Takanashi Kyoko. She turned her head to the right, giving her friend a thumbs-up to signify that she was fine. Kyoko looked at her with her dark brown eyes, uncertainty written all over her face. To signify that she really was fine, she lifted her other hand, giving two thumbs-up to the now smiling Japanese girl.

  “Now, can anyone offer any insight on Emily Dickson’s poem, ‘Because I Could Not Stop for Death’?” Ms. Garcia asked, turning around again to reveal the poem she had written on the board. Clara’s eyes glanced at it, reading the poem slowly.

  Because I could not stop for Death- Emily Dickinson

  Because I could not stop for Death –

  He kindly stopped for me –

  The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

  And Immortality.

  We slowly drove – He knew no haste

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  And I had put away

  My labor and my leisure too,

  For His Civility –

  We passed the School, where Children strove

  At Recess – in the Ring –

  We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –

  We passed the Setting Sun –

  Or rather – He passed Us –

  The Dews drew quivering and Chill –

  For only Gossamer, my Gown –

  My Tippet – only Tulle –

  We paused before a House that seemed

  A Swelling of the Ground –

  The Roof was scarcely visible –

  The Cornice – in the Ground –

  Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet

  Feels shorter than the Day

  I first surmised the Horses' Heads

  Were toward Eternity –

  The class stayed silent as Mrs. Garcia looked at them expectantly. Clara watched as a boy in the back (whose name she remembered was Nathan) raised his hand. “I think the poem’s about Death!” he exclaimed, grinning.

  Mrs. Garcia rolled her eyes as ?some of the students snickered. “Yes, thank you so much for that very informative statement that we didn’t know already, Nathan. Would you like detention as your reward?”

  “Hm, that’s such a tempting reward, Mrs. Garcia, but I’m going to have to decline. I have enough of those already. You’re going to have to be more creative with your rewards, you know,” Nathan replied.

  Clara immediately stiffened. She could practically see the expression of anger on her teacher’s face. She hated it whenever Nathan or any of the other boys provoked their teacher, especially when she knew Mrs. Garcia was going through a hard time. However, she suspected that most of her classmates didn’t know the information that she did—that her husband had recently filed for divorce for an unknown reason, because if they did, they wouldn’t be so disruptive all the time. Then again, the only reason that she knew this was because her mum and Mrs. Garcia were part of the same yoga class, so they often told things to one another, which would, of course, be exposed to her whenever her mum indulged in alcohol at home, spilling secrets to no end.

  Clara watched as Mrs. Garcia opened her mouth, presumably to yell at him or something, which made her look away and glance instead at the window next to the classroom door, revealing the hallway. That was when a flash of red light caught her eye.

  And almost immediately after, the fire alarm began to blare.