The Ending Beginnings: Clara (An Ending Series Novella) (The Ending Series) by Lindsey Fairleigh, Lindsey Pogue Page B

anywhere. She can’t even buy you new shoes.” Dropping
Patrick’s arm, Joanna took a step forward and leaned down on the lunch table.
“My mom said your mom sucked all the men in Bristow dry, so unless
you’re moving somewhere else so she can find new rich men to suck dry,
you’re full of crap.”
    After
another wave of boisterous laughter from her friends at the opposite end of the
table, Joanna curled her lip and reached for Clara’s backpack. “Have you ever
even gone on a vacation before?” As if she were holding a slimy worm, Joanna took the
open flap of Clara’s pack between her fingers, pinky raised in disgust as she
inspected the ratty state of the bag. Letting go, she wiped her hand on her
pants.
    “Yes,
I have.” Clara snatched her backpack away from the evil witch, her skin flush
as she scrambled to zip it up.
    “Liar,”
Joanna muttered.
    Before
Clara’s eyes began to blur with unshed tears, she grabbed her book, hugging it
against her chest and left the remnants of her lunch on the table. “You’ll eat
your words when I’m not here next week!” she screeched before running out of
the cafeteria, down the hall, and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind
her.
    The
bathroom smelled of mold, soggy paper towels, and toilet water, but Clara didn’t
mind. She couldn’t bear seeing Patrick again, not after he’d witnessed her
utter humiliation.
    Clara’s
hands began shaking as her anger and embarrassment combined, resulting in the tears
streaking down her cheeks . No one made her cry—not her mom, not her mom’s
horrible boyfriends, not other students’ mean comments—and Clara hated that Joanna, of all people, had been the one to provoke the sudden onslaught.
    Her
horror quickly hardened into seething hatred. “Stupid bitch.”
    But
deep down, Clara knew it wasn’t just Joanna she was angry at. This was her mom’s
fault. Bristow was one of the smallest cities in Oklahoma, so of course,
everyone would know how horrible her mom was. No matter what her mom told
herself and others, she wasn’t special or entitled to anything in any way—she
was pathetic, and she was dragging Clara down with her.
    If
her mom had been normal, Clara knew she wouldn’t have to worry about stupid
girls like Joanna; they’d have nothing to hold over her. Clara knew that, even
though she was a little scrawny for her age and poor, she was pretty, or at
least, she thought she could be if she tried. All she needed was a different
past and newer clothes. If she had those things, she would be
the one laughing at the others, she would be the one tormenting Joanna.
    As
Clara opened her book, she tilted it toward the dim, florescent light and began
reading. With each word of hope, love, and happily ever after, she swore to
herself that she would never ever be the butt of anyone’s jokes
again. Ever .
    And
she’d do whatever was necessary to make sure of it.

2
     
     
    “Earth
to Clara…” Beth waved her scarred hand in front of Clara’s face.
    Clara
blinked herself back to the present, her mind a bit foggy and her head aching.
    “What
were you thinking about?” Beth blew her wild, black bangs out of her face. Her short hair
swayed as she tilted her head to the side, and her wide, curious eyes and shy
smile made her seem pitiably innocent. “Are you okay?”
    Clara
brushed the meek woman’s concerns away. “I’m fine. I just have a headache.” It
didn’t matter that she’d woken a few hours earlier from a solid night’s sleep or
that she’d eaten a hearty breakfast. It didn’t matter that Clara was sitting in
a drab room with the blinds drawn over the barred windows or that no one was
yelling or making obscene amounts of noise. In fact, all she could hear was the
quiet humming of the incandescent lights shining overhead, mingled with the
whispers of the three other women sitting around her. Regardless of all of that,
her head still ached, and she still felt bleary-eyed and muddled.
    Clara
pulled