She never caused any trouble. Mind you, she never really said anything, so how could she? Plus, she was almost half the size of the rest of her class (bloody oversized males dominating their single sex school's sixth form, she thought), so she tended to go unnoticed, despite being known for her attitude in the past. Of course, if you rewinded a few years you'd see a totally different person; not popular, not quiet, simply opinionated. Sometimes political. She was full of knowledge from fictional experiences and showed a passion of hatred to the government, which was usually taken somewhere between pretentious and admirable. She still felt that now, her world lost in fiction, her head brimming with views but she wouldn't dare show it.. She simply sat alone.
Sometimes, Zosia sat behind the most distant tree from 'Clara's bench', which was embroidered with a gold plaque reading 'Dedicated to Ellie', hearts engraved professionally into the wood (no one knew what that meant, but it was a beautiful bench, and more so in Clara's eyes) and watched her. Her friends could be a little overwhelming so she'd frequently escape to the heavily leaved, hidden away area of the school field and sit thinking about her life or others. On a Tuesday, Clara had a politics lesson that started 20 minutes before Zosia needed to head to Psychology, so she'd sit in Clara's place and try and 'get into her head space.' It never worked, she knew nothing that went on in Clara's life, none of her thoughts. She couldn't imagine anything, she'd just become so closed off.
Clara and Zosia went to school together as Children. Their families were well known for getting along, but in year 3, Zosia moved to another primary school, more convenient and they lost touch. They were best friends. Zosia frequently missed Clara and hoped it was mutual. She missed baking soufflés with her and Ellie, she missed them playing board games with her own mothers; Sometimes she thought they could do it again sometime, but she didn't know. She didn't know why she was so anxious to approach Clara either. She could have done with a friend like Clara through secondary school, and since they happened to go to the same one, she didn't know why that was so difficult. It just was.. She refrained from even smiling at her awkwardly in the corridor.
"I'd make a good psych doctor." She once said to her self as she threw up every possiblity she could think of on the issue, sitting on Clara's bench.
Sometimes as an adult, she'd reflect back to those moments. The moments they created crashes with the toy trucks in nursery, always counting to 11 instead of 10 because it was their favourite number, in year 1, her leaving party in year 3, the missed opportunities as teens and Zosia's secret worry for the brunette in sixth form. She couldn't help it. Though with controlling her bipolar and recovery plan, she tried not to, aside the regret of not staying in touch..
"Clara would have understood, she thought."