Clara

She hadn’t meant to do it. Honestly, she hadn’t. It was an act unconsciously done, involuntary, really, with justification coming not from her brain, and most certainly not from her heart, but instead, from the silent, urging will of others. Hurting feelings had never been on Clara’s to-do list, yet there was the proof, in clear black in white, and as she read it off of the computer screen it was as if she were seeing it for the first time, as if her hands hadn’t been the one to post it on Hailey’s wall.

“Ew! No guy would touch her…”

Clara bit her lip. She‘d watched Disney Channel, she’d read the books. Always she had sided with the Janice Ian, the Lizzie McGuire- the unique, quirky protagonist, without a care of what others thought. Oh, how she envied them! She’d scorned the cliques, the girls with the mini-skirts and rude comments. Yet somehow, that’s what she’d become.

Guilt moistened her hazel eyes as they glazed over the screen once more; Hailey was different: an artist. She didn’t have Clara’s pretty dark skin, and her hair was a greasy alternative to shiny curls.

Being mean was so unlike Clara.

Right?

The End

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