The final bell rang, and the students rushed to take their seats so they wouldn't be marked tardy. Claire was already in her seat, though, with her binder opened on her desk and a freshly sharpened pencil in her hand.
A closet nerd, Claire only let this side of her show in her Calculus class--the only class she didn't share with her sisters.
Claire was smart-- she was the only sophomore enrolled in Calculus, normally a senior level class.
She ran her fingers through her long blonde hair as the teacher wrote their warm-up exercises on the board.
Claire's pencil flew across the paper as if creating a symphony of numbers and symbols, more beautiful than anything her more experienced teacher could have written. Every number, every letter, she wrote, every problem she solved, made perfect sense in her mind. The students all around her were struggling, drowning in an ocean of numbers. But Claire: Claire was floating. Swimming, even.
Claire drew in a quick breath, startled to find Mr. McGuiere studying her paper over her shoulder.
She waited for him to say something, anything; but he was silent, trying to make sense of her work.
"Mr. McGuiere?" Claire asked. "Did I- did I do it wrong?"
"No no no." He breathed.
Claire looked away from him, feeling her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. The other students in the class were looking, Claire could practically feel their gazes.
Mr. McGuire looked up from the paper and at Claire's red face with the awed look teachers always give students when they realize how incredibly gifted they are.
Two senior guys sitting behind her snickered, and Claire blushed even redder.
McGuire ignored them and continued to stare at Claire, who looked around nervously, starting to feel slightly creeped out.
To Be Finished