September 1, 1974

Claire looked across the playground. A few kids were playing jump rope, and some others had organized a game of tag under the watchful eye of Mrs. Preston. Off in the corner she saw some others start drawing a rather sloppy hopscotch course. Nervously she snuggled deeper into her jacket.

Fall had come early to the City, bringing its' biting chill with her. As her mother had said, no one ever did anything by halves in the City. That might account for the fact that the ground was completely covered with leaves. They held on to moisture very well, so the ground was basically soggy mulch. Claire shivered just thinking about it and drew her feet onto the bench she was sitting on.

She twitched her nose, moving the glasses over the bridge of her freckled nose. Claire hated her glasses, but her father said they weren't about to spend an arm and a leg for contacts. Whatever that meant. She'd then appealed to her mother, but she'd said they'd get them when she was older. This didn't comfort Claire, as she wanted them now.

Off in the distance she heard a kid yell. Someone had gotten tagged. Claire looked down at the ground. She didn't much like the games at recess. It wasn't that she wasn't athletic. In fact she was quite agile. She frowned. The meaning of 'agile' wasn't exactly clear to her, just like her father's phrase. However, her P.E teacher had said that when her mother had come in for a conference.

In short the games didn't appeal to her. Neither did school as a whole come to think about it. At six years old, she was sure that she hated nothing half as much as she hated school. It wasn't the lessons, nor was it being away from home. Well, being away from home had something to do with it. She wasn't about to lie about that.

Recently she had gotten a fever and had to stay home for four days. Well, so what if she'd only actually been sick for three of them? She wasn't a bad liar, and she figured a fourth day couldn't hurt. In any case, the days off had been very pleasant. No, not pleasant. They had been downright fun.

Her father had been working, so that meant her mother had paid special attention to her. She liked it when it was just the two of them. She told her such wonderful stories. Some of them were about princesses and monsters, but her favorites were about her uncle on the moon. It was completely fascinating and she bet that the other kids didn't have an uncle on the moon.

So yes, she preferred being home to being at school. School took away the time that she was given to have fun at home. It was like it was stealing from her. Claire scuffed the ground with the tip of her shoe. Yeah, that was one reason she hated school. Yet, there were so many more immediate reasons to hate the place. To start with there was-

THWACK! Claire shuddered and winced as she felt the wet leaves hit her shoulder.

"Hey four-eyes!" a voice yelled.

She looked up, but she didn't need to. She already knew who it was.

"Not talking to us now?" May asked as she skipped over with the rest of her friends, "Think you're too good for us?"

Claire hunched deeper into her coat. Quickly she cast a side look across the playground. Mrs. Preston was on the other side of the playground, still looking at the tag game. Of all the times for the teachers to be off supervising a stupid game! Why weren't they there when she needed them?

Her eyes scanned the rest of the playground, but there were only other kids on it. They wouldn't deter May though. All of the ones near her were deliberately looking away. They had grasped the idea of playground politics, unlike her.

"She's not talking to us," Kayla, one of May's friends, said in mock sadness.

The rest of the girls started giggling. They giggled a lot, mostly whenever May said something but occasionally whenever Kayla spoke. Apparently her father owned their fathers' businesses so they hung out a lot. Why they had decided to target her she had no idea. However, she had a feeling it was because she was quiet and tended to be anti-social. The glasses and the freckles couldn't help either.

May made a face at her. All of the teachers had told them they should report it if they were being bullied. That was easy for them to say from their high horse. So say she did tell. May and the rest would deny it, and then she'd get punished by the teachers for lying. Then, when she went to the playground, she'd just get bullied even more. It was a lose-lose situation.

"Freckle-face is deaf now?" May pouted, "And I spent all those days figuring out the best things to call her too! How unfair is this!"

Claire straightened inside of her coat a little.

"You're a jerk," she said firmly.

A couple of the girl's eyes widened. May's eyes, however, narrowed.

"You got a potty mouth on you," she said.

Claire knew it was a stupid move, but she stuck out her tongue. Her face contorting May shoved Claire off the bench and into the leaves. The slimy tree scraps slipped down her jacket, chilling her. She shivered miserably as the other girls started to giggle again.

"That'll help wash it out," May said, satisfied.

She leaned down.

"But just in case you don't get the message," she grinned.

In one swift movement she snatched the glasses off Claire's face. The world started to blur, and she could just make out their form in May's hand.

"Give them back!" Claire yelled as she scrambled to her feet.

May smiled, holding the glasses just about Claire's reach. She'd always been taller than her. As Claire struggled to reach them May thrust out her other arm and pushed Claire back onto the ground. Once again the cold leaves slipped down her neck. She fought back tears as she looked up at May's shadowy smirking face.

The smirk disappeared suddenly as a clump flew from behind Claire, hitting May in the face. She stumbled backwards, dropping Claire's glasses. Hardly thinking she darted out and grabbed them as several more clusters of leaves followed the first one. The rest of the girls ran away screaming. She watched them, blinking.

"Yeah, you'd better run!" a voice shouted.

Now even more surprised Claire fumbled to wipe the mud out of her glasses. There were a few footsteps in the background.

"You okay?" a voice said.

She looked up, putting her glasses back on for better focus. There was a girl her age wearing a weathered grey coat covered in dirt with grass and leaves sticking to it. Her hair, however, was quite clean and looked like pale corn husks. Currently brown eyes were quickly looking over Claire. She frowned.

"You okay?" she repeated.

"Um, yeah," Claire lied as she stumbled to her feet.

The other girl helped her up. Once she figured out that Claire could stand, the girl looked after May. She continued to stare for a minute before sticking out her tongue. Then she turned back to Claire.

"Who's the stuck-up weirdo?" she asked.

Claire shook her head disbelievingly.

"Are you new or something?"

"Yeah," the girl said proudly, "Name's Vi. Just moved here two weeks ago."

"Vi?" asked Claire tentatively.

"My real name's too long," she said, "So Mom said I can use Vi until I grow into it. So, who is she?"

"May," replied Claire, "And she's not going to be happy about the leaves. She's kind of a…neat freak."

"What's that?" frowned Vi.

Claire thought for a minute.

"Someone who likes to keep clean, I think," she answered.

"Too bad for her. I think there was a leech in there somewhere. And don't worry about me. I can take her," snorted Vi, "Just look at the way she ran. Sorry I didn't start earlier."

"No," she said, "Uh, thanks."

"No problem," she said, grinning.

Vi cocked her head.

"Either your tag's really weird looking, or you've got leaves in your coat," she said.

"I know," shivered Claire.

Vi grinned again.

"Let's go inside then."