"Good morning, class."

"Good morning, Mrs. Johnson," the class recited.

For a few moments, the proud teacher smiled as her gaze shifted from one side of the room to the other. While it most of the teachers at Royal Woods Elementary were passionate about their job, Johnson had a reputation for being especially devoted. She wasn't the best at educating, but she loved children and she couldn't help but take time out of her day to appreciate them for who they were. Her students could tell and they had a high level of respect for her, although sometimes they felt she went a little too far. The silent stare did create some confusion.

Eventually, though, Mrs. Johnson started sifted through her bag. In the midst of winter, it was already stuffed with materials.

"First thing's first," she said as she searched. Eventually, she found two Manila folders stacked with papers, "I have your tests from last week."

Mrs. Johnson, carrying the stack, walked up and down the aisles to hand back individual tests, "Some of you did quite well, others could do better, but I want you to know that I believe that all of you can do it," she announced as she did this, "Keep working hard, ask for help if you need it, and tell yourself that you can do it."

Leni kept staring forward at the clean chalkboard. She nearly missed the piece of paper being slipped onto her desk. She glanced down on it and noticed the 'C-' printed in red. Her eyes scanned the test, being particularly drawn to the x's, circles, and notes scattered across the white and black surface. As was typical for her schoolwork.

It was a math test and it covered operations with decimals (addition, subtraction, multiplication, division). Leni knew math wasn't easy for her, but that never stopped her from trying to get it, to really nail it down. And while she felt she got a lot of help, she was disappointed that it didn't yield ideal results.

Starved by desperate curiosity, her expressionless face scanned the desks around her in search of other red markings. Most of the ones she saw had a 'B' or better. Was the concept that elementary? That even after studying and extra help, she still couldn't match her peers. It was times like these that Leni was glad she could slack to her default look ('indifference').

"Now that that's done, I have an exciting new assignment for you all," Mrs. Johnson said, her voice pumped by enthusiasm. She swung by her desk and pulled out a second Manila folder, "Group project!"

Most of the class broke out into its usual chatter. From their persona experience, they knew that Mrs. Johnson had fun projects, even if they rarely cared for their educational value.

"Alright, settle down everyone," she said over the noise. Sure enough, it did. as usual, she started speaking as she distributed the sheets, "You will each be in groups of two or three and you will work together to make a poster board about the American Revolution. On the sheet provided are some topics you can do research on. I would like you to include at least three topics on your poster. After that, each group will present their poster in front of the class."

Each student took the time to read over the paper and most of them instantly became excited by one sentence on the sheet, "You are free to choose who will be in your group."

"Now since everyone is present today," Mrs. Johnson said as she oversaw the class before her. Sure enough, none of the seats were vacant, "I will let you pick your groups today," her vision then gazed to a bloc of five girls in the back corner of the room, each of them with purses and other accessories, "Remember, no more than three."

Just like that, the room exploded into sound. About half the class stood up and moved around. Many of these kids were barely even thinking about which direction their legs were moving in; they knew who was sitting where. By this point in the year, relationships have deepened even further (and cemented by yet the third year this exact roster was in place). It was common sense.

Leni quietly sat at her own desk. Her eyes wandered from her desk's wooden surface to the numerous clusters of classmates that had developed around her. Her throat was relaxed and had no intention of winding up. Her arm was tired and lacked an interest to rise up. Her deepest fibers were comfortable with maintaining the status quo; why get up and move or talk right now?

But the girl was suddenly surprised by a buzzing happening in her head. It was small and largely insignificant (certainly not enough to get her body moving), but it was poignant enough to make her think. Now that she did observe what was around her, this configuration was more than just a one-time ordeal. Memories of other times flooded her mind of other group assignments. Sure she ended up in a group, but only after the teacher (whether it was Mrs. Johnson or otherwise) asked an already established unit to put her on like a jacket on a summer day. It was a pattern. Why was it only now that she was becoming aware of it, she thought.

"Leni," she heard Mrs. Johnson say as she approached her desk, "would you like to find a group to join?"

Beat for beat. As that buzzing amplified, Leni jerked her head around the room, trying to find a group that she thought might accept. While a lot of them already had three people in them, what she thought about more was her inability to leave her seat. Here she was, having this urge, this itch to prove something and she couldn't get up. To her, it felt embarrassing.

"Is Mrs. Johnson looking at me funny?"

"That group in the back only has two people. Why don't you join them?" she said gently with a smile.

Too slow. Have things always been like that? Was the world suddenly on fast forward?

Using Mrs. Johnson's hand as a guide, Leni's eyes followed it to the back of the room, where two girls were giddily talking amongst themselves. Each of them had purses and distinguished themselves with their sophisticated sweaters and yoga pants, among the only five in the class to adorn such attire.

"Cassidy, Tara," Mrs. Johnson called out. On cue, their conversation halted and the two girls brought themselves to their teacher's attention. What became striking to her was how their faces drained of emotion. They both looked like her in that moment, "Would you mind letting Leni join your group?"

The two girls glanced at each other, their faces remaining unmoved. And then, Cassidy slowly nodded.

Before Mrs. Johnson could speak, Leni grabbed for her things and moved them to an empty desk near Cassidy and Tara. Those empty stares. Leni was aware of how difficult it could be to translate emotions into tangible expressions. Were they all that much like her? That underlying tension chewing at her as she looked back at them. Is that how she has made others feel this whole time?

"So I literally cried so hard when I found out she broke up with him on live TV," Tara said, turning to Cassidy. Leni, meanwhile, twidled her thumbs as she silently spectated the two-way talk.

"Me too! And then my brother came in and he was, like so annoying! He didn't get it. All he wanted was to switch the channel to some stupid basketball game."

"Ugh! That's the worst! When will he ever learn?"

"And he's already in, like, sixth grade. He's never gonna get a girlfriend if he keeps being so smug."

The two continued their fierce gossip about Cassidy's brother (who's name isn't shared). All Leni could do was observe this dome from the outside. And to think this project was supposed to be about something. If only she could think of any potential topic to include with it. Besides, it's not like she had anything else to talk about.

"But then I saw her literally wearing a T-shirt. A T-Shirt!"

"No wonder we don't like her. And because of that, no one likes her. I mean, what girl in their right mind wears a T-Shirt?! How old are you? Like, two?!"

"I uh," Leni blurted out. Her tongue got jammed, the words were stuck. And those faces were staring at her again. Even with the intimidation they wrought to her, she still took the time to slowly untangle and speak, "Why don't we, like, have fashion from the American Relation and put that in our...um, project?"

Cassidy and Tara turned to each other once more. All Leni could was wonder if that's normal. Was it?

"Um," Cassidy eventually said, stilted, "well that's not due for, like, another month."

"But, like, shouldn't we be talking about the project right now?" Leni asked, staring down at the information sheet. Although it had little detail on an initial group discussion, the due date was clearly printed in bold. Additionally, she could make out some of the other conversations happening amongst the different groups. She may not have made out all the words from the clashing noises, but she could at least make out "American" and other words that she recalled Mrs. Johnson using in class. What made them so different?

"We'll get to it," Cassidy repeated.

And the words dissipated. Leni felt like her voice faded out. Again. Cassidy and Tara simply went back to their conversation. All she could do was sit there and listen. A lot of it was gossip (the two girls complaining about other people and inconveniences of daily life). They talked a lot about their proclaimed friends and what they were up to. Setting frequently bounced from one friend's house to another's back to the school, followed by a trip to the mall, and then back to Tara's house before having to go to 'lame old school'. Cassidy and Tara were awfully fast talkers. Too fast. Even when they talked about clothes, Leni tried reaching out to say how she too likes clothes or how she herself has started making them (thanks to a sewing machine she got for her last birthday). But the window was there. And gone like that.

Was this how Mrs. Boxer described conversation? Cassidy and Tara were both looking at each other, none of them looked bored, neither side went on a monologue, they kept their personal space, and the comments weren't that rude. Leni understood the part she was playing; she paid attention and was actively trying to show that she cared about the topic (especially when it shifted to clothes). But she began observing (oh how Mrs. Boxer would be proud) of her surroundings. Was it natural for a three-way conversation to have the speaker perpetually only look at one person? Was she just being impatient that she hasn't been asked a question yet or given a turn to talk? Was she not smiling wide enough for them to see? Was she being rude in the presence of such tolerant girls?

"The model they got for Tween Queen this week is gorgeous!"

"I know. Last week's was so disgusting, I literally almost unsubscribed!"

"It's all in the eyeliner. My parents were like 'Not until you're fourteen'," Tara said nasally, "Ugh! I hate them so much!"

"I would die! And I thought waiting until twelve was bad!"

So that's what girls in fifth grade read? Leni suddenly felt bad that she had never heard of some of these things. Had she been living under a rock this whole time? Now that she thought about it, she recalled some of the fits Lori got into about things.

"And then it got to the dresses and they were simply fab!"

"My parents will never get it for me! It's so expensive!"

And then she threw her mouth open.

"It must be a nice dress if it's, like, a lot of money," Leni said, desperately trying to get her words in, lest one of the others continue.

The two girls turned back to her. Their eyes, mouths, nothing. Did they even appreciate her input?

"Well yeah," Tara replied, "it's, like, $200."

Before Leni could add to that, Tara jerked her head back to Cassidy and went back to their conversation. Leni gazed at Tara, the one that had the bother to acknowledge her existence. Did she look pleased? Was that enough?

But the answer was two girls talking more about magazines that she never heard of. If only she saw those pictures they were describing, the articles they read, the paper they touched.

And to think they were all supposed to be bonding over the 'American Relation'.

"Leni."

The blonde girl turned to Mrs. Johnson.

"You're free to join Mrs. Boxer."

She then turned to the door and saw the teacher waiting joyfully. It seemed like an escape.

Leni obliged. She stood up, gazing at Cassidy and Tara, who were both staring at her. Why were they doing that? Why couldn't they just go back to talking about whatever it was? That's what the others were doing. Right? Leni slowly stumbled up the aisle, approaching Mrs. Johnson's and Mrs. Boxer's smiling, eager faces. Oh, how they were guardians in that moment. They knew her. They knew how it should be. Right? And that question carried itself all the way out of the room.

"Mrs. Johnson told me you're working on a group project," she said, givin her student a hearty smile, "Are you, Cassidy, and Tara having fun?"

Leni stared at her teacher's reassuring face. What was there to say? She could say 'bad', but then that would make her partners look malicious. They weren't bullying her. They weren't trying to be mean, right?

"Yes...it's about, uh, the American Relation," Leni said.

Mrs. Boxer chuckled.

"I believe it's called the American Revolution," she said, being careful as usual to not hurt the girl's feelings.

"Oh, okay," she replied, her voice clearly unaffected. But Leni couldn't bring herself to look back at Mrs. Boxer. She could only bring herself to keep her eyes on the hallway before her. It wasn't even an act of forgetting; the girl felt a force pulling her in the opposite direction of the teacher, as if she were a spider. Perhaps it was just a bad day. Maybe that silly mind of her's was acting up again. Tomorrow, everything would be back to normal.

"Right?"

Soon enough, they were back in the room. That small, white room with that same old table and chairs. It was familiar. Maybe a safe space was what she needed to relieve this uneasiness. Leni clumsily found her seat and eyed Mrs. Boxer as she casually took her's.

"Today, we'll be learning more about conversation," Mrs. Boxer said, "Have you been talking with Cassidy and Tara?"

"Yes," she replied, even with a voice reminding her of her doubts.

"What topics got brought up?"

Silence. Those precious seconds following the question were far from comforting to her. Were these moments always like that?

"Clothes. We'll get to the project soon," Leni replied.

"Hmm. That's okay. Sometimes, it can take a little time for ideas to come to us, especially on a big project like this," Mrs. Boxer said, trying to sound reassuring. All Leni could wonder was whether or not her teacher was a psychic. Her hungry curiosity wasn't that obvious.

Thankfully, the matter didn't come up again for the rest of the session.

Lunch time came. It was about time. After that weird morning, Leni hoped to forget her distress with a little quality cafeteria food. Besides, they were serving hot dogs today.

Unfortunately, given how she was stashed towards the back of the clumps of students, such relief was quite far. She was stuck in place, unable to move even a step forward without bumping into some poor kid's back. Realizing she was parked, Leni decided to look around the cafeteria, trying to find at least some pleasure in the ceiling, fluorescent lights, nutrition posters, Luna sitting alone with her homemade lunch.

Fascinated, she drifted from the clump. As she approached her little sister, the presence of empty chairs surrounding her became as prominent of the walls in the room. Once she was close enough, Luna looked up and saw her.

"Hi Leni," she said, putting on a smile, "wanna sit with me?"

The offer was too great for words. Leni, without even speaking, took a seat next to her sister. Luna then took out a fresh sandwich from her bag.

"Want half of my sandwich?" she asked.

"No thanks," Leni answered, opting to plant her hands on the table. As she started eating the sandwich, Luna was puzzled by the lack of food her sister had.

"Are you okay, Leni?" Luna asked, suddenly concerned.

To Leni, though, her sister sure was one to talk. Now that she thought about it, she did recall quite a few times in the past where her little sister had brought other girls over the House. She remembered her sister personally inviting her to join them, partaking in their rambunctious antics. Were they all sick that day? Sure it was cold out, but all of them?

"Where are your friends?" Leni asked, "are they in line?"

Luna's eyes widened. Her mouth halted, letting the sandwich mush sit on her gooey tongue. Leni noticed immediately. Was it the wrong question? Was her tone too rough? She tried telling herself she didn't mean it. Maybe Luna would finish chewing so she could answer her. And then everything would be alright.

"Why is still looking at me like that?"

After a long pause (that Leni was all too familiar with at this point), her sister closed her eyes and swallowed her food. All either of them could hear was the unintelligible chatter of the student body. Why wasn't Luna opening her eyes? Leni suddenly felt a rush of anxiety, fearing that she had hurt her sister's feelings.

"I'm sorry," Leni said. She then leaned in and hugged her sister. She felt a jolt as she made contact with the younger Loud. Was she really that invasive of personal space? Even in a moment like this?

"Thanks, Leni," she heard her say softly, "you're the best."

"Why are you here all by yourself?" she asked, still embracing her. She then started rubbing her back, as if that would encourage her to open up. She never imagined seeing any of her siblings feeling sad, especially not Luna. What a day this turned out to be.

"Because I don't have friends," Luna said sadly. Even though Leni couldn't see her sister's face, those words compelled her to tighten her grip.

"What about those girls you hung out with? Aren't they, like, your friends?" Leni asked innocently.

She remembered those times when those girls let her join in. Even if she couldn't recall their names, those girls were wonderful, she thought. They were nice, encouraging, funny, and overall great kids. As was Emily. Leni may not have been a social butterfly, but those memories were simply wonderful. But come to think of it, she hadn't seen those girls around the House much. What was Luna getting at?

"They moved on," Luna said, sighing," They found other kids to be friends with, so...they don't need me anymore."

Leni clenched her eyes as she squeezed Luna even more.

"That's sad. Why haven't you tried to find new ones?"

"Too tight," she replied as she gasped for air, "You're...hurting me..."

The older Loud recoiled and shot up her Ducky arms. Her eyes trembled as she tried to make out each detail of Luna's face. Her sagged eyes and frown did show disappointment.

"It's at me, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry," Leni blurted out.

Luna sighed.

"It's okay," she answered, looking on the ground, "I know you're just worried about me."

That was reassuring, Leni guessed. While she lowered the Ducy arms, she pitted her hands down to her chair's surface. She used her arms as some sort of brace, embarrassed to be in such a situation. Was she always this pushy?

"I have tried to make new friends," Luna said, looking back up to face her sister, "but it hasn't worked out. No one likes the things I like...and I don't have any talents I could use to impress them," she then sighed, "Lori was right."

At first, she wasn't sure what to say. Was she always this slow for words? But what came quickly was a vague recollection of Lori telling her the same thing she told herself some time ago. Was this what she meant? If Luna knew, why did it take her so long?

How long has Luna been sitting alone at lunch? What kind of big sister was she?

Rather than stalling, Leni fell back into a hug once more. It was all she knew how to do.

"I can be your friend," was all she could say.

Surprised, Luna couldn't help but smile. To her, it was charming knowing that there would be at least one (more like five) that were willing to be there for her when she needed it.

"Thanks," Luna replied. It wasn't much, but she meant it. And with that, she too returned the hug, not caring if the "sophisticated" girls saw her acting this schmaltzy. Leni, though, hoped that her sister would be enough to make this silly day all worth it.

Right?