A Girl Named Claire

H.G. KANG, 2011

- 1 -

Claire the average high school student shut the door and locked it and checked the lock. As always.

“I’m home, ma!”

“Yes, honey. You didn’t have to shout. Quiet. Ralph’s sleeping. You might wake him.”

“Sorry, mom. Didn’t mean to. Love you.”

“Love you too, Claire. Now inside, will you? You’ll really wake the dog.”

Claire went into her room and shut the door behind her. She checked the lock, out of habit.

It’s another typical day, she thought as she fell onto her bed.

- 2 -

“Another typical day,” said Mr. Paulson as the chalk broke (again) in his hand, “Sorry, everyone.”

Claire yawned. She didn’t like school very much. The droning lectures had never been her thing. It was a relief, therefore, that she had something to look forward to. Her itinerant mind had long since drifted away to the cozy, ramshackle little hideout of them five. Oh . . . she longed for the bell.

Ariel, Claire’s best friend, who above all regarded Claire’s boyishness as charming and almost even angelic, winked at her from the desk next doors. Claire smiled weakly, and yawned pointedly again.

“Claire! Ariel! You troublemakers . . .”

The fresh chalk Mr. Paulson had just picked up shattered on the edge of Claire’s desk. She yawned again. The classroom was immediately drenched with sarcastic jeers. Mr. Paulson had had enough.

“Out! Both of you!”

With true, blazing smiles on their faces, both girls sprung from their chairs and exited the classroom with no hesitance whatsoever. Mr. Paulson stared after them, seething.

- 3 -

“Ariel? Claire? You’re early!” said Greg when Claire entered their small place in the basement.

“Paulson again.” Claire spat as she sank into the sagging chair.

Greg nodded, holding an empty soda can in his left hand and a hamburger wrapper in his right.

Greg was this typical large guy who was into Sci-Fi stuff. He liked the series Battlestar Galactica best, and back in his house had a room full of figurines of famous movie characters such as Han Solo. Claire couldn’t really make herself enjoy Science Fiction, but at least she liked Greg because he never bothered her or lied to her. She hated people who lied.

“Anything new?” Ariel asked lightly, crouching down beside Greg. Greg dropped his soda can. The can bounced away with great clangs that echoed in the hollow basement. Well, frankly, the only things in them five’s hideout were the only chair, the feeble lamp, a few dressers, and a small handgun. This last appliance was there heavily thanks to Oliver’s taste.

“Uh, no.” Greg mumbled, his voice becoming noticeably smaller. He still had trouble with girls. “A typical day.” he said finally.

“That’s what Paulson said.” Claire spat, and Ariel nodded. “No offense, Greg.” she said quickly.

“No, it’s alright. Alright.” said Greg, in a noticeably stabilized voice. Claire had noticed that Greg seemed to find her much more comfortable than Ariel. Well, that was how it was, especially between teenagers. Prettier girls meant harder to deal with for boys. Ariel had been crowned queen in all of last year’s parties and festivals. She, with her impossible scarlet hair, 5 feet 6 inch height, perfect body, and dazzlingly beautiful face, had this irresistible charm for boys. The only reason she had joined this “gang of five” was that she was so tired of sex and so sick of boys tailing her everywhere she went. She had had to become a weirdo.

Claire, on the other hand, was the bit boyish type. She had short black hair with slight curls at the ends. She was of average height and had a bright yet a bit dark voice with a timbre of beauty, a round yet not too round face with balanced eyes, nose, mouth, ears, and eyebrows. She was slim, just to that extent that people would think “Well, okay.” when they saw her for the first time. She wasn’t exactly pretty, but certainly wasn’t ugly. That was a relief for her, for she wasn’t someone who sought a great deal of social attention. She did wear light makeup every day, but that was only due to the pressure her mother gave her. Claire definitely wasn’t that silly type of girl who spent more than an hour every morning ornamenting her face and body.

This great contrast between the two girls had easily made them best friends.

“Three here already!” exclaimed a familiar excited voice from the doorsteps.

Ariel and Greg instantly broke up their awkward conversation, and Claire pulled herself out of the reverie she was about to sink into. It was Tina, the third girl.

“Ooh, Claire! I love your hair!” she shouted enthusiastically.

“Yeah, and you’ve said that for about the thousandth time.” said Claire a bit sourly. She wasn’t that fond of this girl, to be frank. Tina was too normal to gain Claire’s interest. As a matter of fact, being too normal and not good at anything was the reason Tina had joined this club.

“And there’s the pan flute.” said Ariel, “Here comes our leader.”

Next moment the door was thrown dramatically open, and Oliver their head walked down the steps in his normal proud strides. It was summer, but Oliver was coated, masked, and hooded. Everything he was wearing were black except for the exquisitely white pan flute he was holding in both hands. The wind that blew from outside through his long coat made him quite an impressive figure.

“Greetings, comrades.” he said. That was the way he talked—pompous, authoritative, and cold.

Oliver was rich. He didn’t have friends, but he hated nerdy stuff. Nobody had an idea about exactly why he had joined this group of five so-called eccentrics.

“And so begins today.” he said, and banged the door shut with his leg.

Actually, the one and only thing these five had in common was that they all went to Olstone High, an average institution of education located in an average suburb. Well, at least for now.


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This is about two fifths of the entire thing.