Clara awoke to a blaring alarm. She opened her eyes and pulled her hand out from under her comforter before slamming it on top of the alarm clock. The clock rattled in place before settling and Clara groaned; shutting her eyes again.
"Get up, Clara." The Doctor called from the next room over, having woken up with Clara's alarm as well. Clara groaned again, pulling her comforter just above her eyes.
"You have three minutes, young lady!" Rose called from the same room as the Doctor. Clara threw her comforter to her knees and sat up. The sun was just coming out through her window and she squinted at it.
She turned her radio on, and padded to her dresser as she had showered the night before. She glanced up at the mirror just above her dresser and brought her hand to her hair. It was going to need, at the very least, a thorough brushing.
Clara pulled out dark jeans, a longer dark blue skirt, a white button down and a dark blue slightly-too-small sweater with her school's crest on it. Rose would no doubt yell at her for the sweater, but there was really no reason to go to school in one that hung over her as if it were actually made out of her mother's drapes. She immediately shoved the jeans into the bottom of her backpack. She would be going out with her friends later – and the skirt her school had for her wasn't all that flattering either.
"Are you up, Clara?" Rose called again, and Clara rolled her eyes, stripping out of her pajamas and quickly pulling on her uniform. The black tights were going to have to take an extra second, but they could go on right under her skirt after she got that on.
"Yes, mum." She mimicked her mother's mocking by flapping her mouth before buttoning up her shirt. She grabbed her sweater in her fist before turning off her radio and sliding down the stairs to the kitchen to pop some bread in the toaster for breakfast. She flicked on a small TV in the kitchen to BBC Breakfast, absentmindedly pulling her tights up while she waited for the toast.
It popped up a few moments later, toasted to perfection, and she grabbed a can of strawberry jam from the fridge and walked over to the toaster, throwing her breakfast on a small plate and spreading the jam across quickly.
"Have you brushed your teeth yet, Clara?"
"Mum, I've barely eaten." Clara rolled her eyes again, leaning back against the kitchen chair, watching the TV and biting into her breakfast absentmindedly.
"Do you know where your shoes are?"
"Under my bed, Mum."
"Did you do all of your homework?"
"Yes, Mum."
Clara listened to Rose continue talking to her, but didn't say anything. There was no way her mother could tell that she wasn't actually listening as she couldn't see Clara's face.
She glanced to the clock and it was already 8:30.
"Dammit…" she whispered under her breath before jumping up, shoving the last of her toast in her mouth and racing upstairs.
She raced into her room, sliding her shoes out from under her bed and grabbed her bookbag, shoving loose papers and her binder into it.
"Gotta go, Mum!" she called into her parents' room.
"And what about me?" the Doctor asked, smirking, as he approached Clara at the door.
"Love you too, Dad." Clara muttered, barely glancing at him before she raced back down the stairs and out the door.
Her bus stop was at the very front of her neighborhood, so it was a little bit of a walk. While the bus didn't come until 3:45, she liked to be there early so she was assured to not miss it. And by early, that was only five minutes.
Clara pulled her iPod out of a side pocket of her backpack, (that also contained her phone,) and automatically turned it on. She didn't switch the song at all, just plugged in her headphones and put them into her ears.
Kids were crowded around a sign pole, all dressed exactly as Clara is, (the boys of course missing skirts.) None of them commented on Clara's arrival, and Clara instead leaned against a different sign, a few feet away from the other kids. She closed her eyes and bobbed her head slowly – apart from the world.
Within minutes, the bus arrived and Clara knew instantly. She perked up and sped away from the sign – the first to walk on. She picked a seat reasonably far from the bus driver, but not in the back to slide in and lean against the window. She propped her knees up against the seat directly in front of her and closed her eyes again.
"Ms. Smith?" Clara's English teacher rapped her desk with a ruler. Clara jumped up, staring at her blankly. The teacher mimed removing something from her ears. Clara continued to stare at her, before she realized that she had to take her headphones out. "Can you mind my classroom as to not blatantly ignore my lectures?"
"Mm." Clara grunted, settling her chin on her arms and watching her teacher retreat to the front. Several kids on the other side of the room snickered, but Clara didn't even pay them a look. She didn't know their names, and quite honestly she didn't even though what clique they were in. They almost looked like nerds. But then again, everyone looked like nerds.
"Mozzarella dippers please." Clara grunted, pushing her tray across the metal counter. The short lunch lady with stringy black hair plopped two fat cheese filled breadsticks onto Clara's tray and the girl moved along.
Another girl bumped into Clara on her way to her table and she jumped.
"Watch ou - oh." Clara rolled her eyes at her friend.
"So where d'ya wanna go this afternoon?"
"I don't know - wherever, I guess? Is there a movie out?" Clara walked closer to her table and then she froze, going wide-eyed.
"What? Oh."
"She's at our table." Clara breathed, looking rapidly between her friend and her table. "Why?"
"I think she wanted to talk to you?" Clara's friend smiled, her dark eyes brightening. "At least that's what I heard."
"Nina. Nina Provanso wants to talk to me? Jesus Christ, okay."
Clara took a deep breath before moving towards her table again. She sat down nonchalantly and looked up at the pale girl with straight black hair, Nina.
"Hey Nina." she said quietly. "What's up?"