I walked onto campus and immediately spotted Josie’s yellow backpack bouncing through the crowd like it was on a mission.
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“VIDIA!” she shouted, waving both arms as if I couldn’t possibly see her.
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I trudged over. “What now?”
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Josie leaned in like she had a secret that could save the world. “Okay. First of all, guess what.”
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“I’m going to regret this.”
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“Austin got in trouble already.”
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My eyes widened. “Seriously?”
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Paisley popped out from behind Josie, her ponytail slightly crooked like she had hurried. “He tried to grab my pencil and Mrs. Pierce actually saw. Like, with her eyes. The whole thing.”
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I tried to imagine Austin being caught doing something for once. It felt unnatural—like imagining a fish riding a bike.
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“So he’s… not bothering you?” I asked.
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“He’s still Austin,” Paisley said. “But he’s being Austin with consequences.”
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Josie grinned. “Which is the best kind of Austin.”
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I couldn’t help it. I smiled too.
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Then my smile fell off my face the second I remembered my own problem.
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Room 9.
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Combo-class.
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Clumsy Claudia.
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“Are you okay?” Paisley asked.
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“Define okay,” I muttered.
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Josie’s eyes sparkled. “Oh! Is this about Claudia? Because I have a plan—”
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“No plans,” I said quickly. “Your plans always end with someone getting grounded.”
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Josie looked offended. “That was one time. And technically it was the teacher who grounded me.”
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“Exactly,” I said.
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The bell rang, slicing through our conversation. Paisley and Josie headed toward Ms. Pierce’s line, and I felt my stomach do that annoying twisty thing it likes to do whenever my life is about to get worse.
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“See you later!” Josie called.
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“Try not to cause a school-wide emergency!” I called back.
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Josie saluted like a soldier.
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Great.
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I made my way to Room 9, dragging my feet like I was being pulled by an invisible rope attached to a giant sign that said: UNFAIR SEATING ASSIGNMENTS THIS WAY.
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Inside, Mrs. Sanders was already writing something on the board in big, neat letters.
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WELCOME ROOM 9!
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Underneath it, in smaller writing:
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FIFTH + SIXTH = FUN?
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Fun?
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I slid into my desk. The empty chair next to me looked like it was mocking me.
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Mateo Cho sat at the desk in front of mine and turned around.
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“You’re Vidia, right?” he asked.
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I blinked. Most people didn’t say my name like that—like they were actually sure of it.
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“Yeah,” I said. “And you’re Mateo.”
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Mateo nodded. “You followed me on the first day.”
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“I did,” I admitted. “I thought you knew where we were going.”
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“I didn’t,” he said.
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I stared at him. “Then why were you walking so confidently?”
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Mateo shrugged. “If you walk confidently, people assume you’re right.”
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That was… annoyingly smart.
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Mrs. Sanders clapped her hands. “Okay, everyone! Let’s settle down. Claudia should be here any minute—she checked in at the office.”
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My spine stiffened.
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The door opened.
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A girl stepped in with a messenger bag that looked too heavy for her shoulder. She had slightly messy hair pulled back with a clip, and she was clutching a water bottle like it was the only thing keeping her alive.
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She scanned the room.
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I scanned her hands.
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They were holding everything correctly.
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No pencils stabbed into eyes. No tripping over her own shoes. No dramatic crashing noises.
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Mrs. Sanders smiled. “Claudia! Welcome. Come on in.”
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Claudia gave a small nod and walked forward—carefully, but not clumsily.
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She stopped next to my desk.
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My desk.
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Of course.
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Mrs. Sanders pointed. “You’ll sit right there, next to Vidia.”
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Claudia looked at me.
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I looked at Claudia.
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For a second, we both just… existed.
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Then she said, quietly, “Hi.”
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I waited for her to drop something.
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She didn’t.
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“I’m… Vidia,” I said, even though she probably already knew.
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“I know,” Claudia said. “I heard you talking the first day.”
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I narrowed my eyes. “About what?”
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Claudia’s cheeks turned pink. “About the sign. The sixth grade sign.”
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Oh.
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Great.
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“So,” I said, trying to recover my dignity, “don’t poke your eye out with a pencil.”
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Claudia blinked. “Why would I do that?”
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I opened my mouth, then closed it.
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Because everyone says you do.
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Because that’s your nickname.
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Because I believed it.
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Instead I shrugged. “Just… safety tip.”
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Claudia sat down and pulled out her notebook. She wrote her name at the top in careful handwriting.
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Not messy.
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Not chaotic.
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Not clumsy.
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Hmm.
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Mrs. Sanders began talking about classroom rules, and I tried to listen. I really did.
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But my brain kept circling around one thought like a shark.
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What if Claudia wasn’t actually clumsy?
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What if—
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I glanced at her again.
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She was highlighting the date with a pastel highlighter. A pastel highlighter.
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Like some kind of organized person.
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This was suspicious.
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At recess, Josie practically tackled me the second I walked outside.
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“SO?!” she demanded. “How bad was she? Did she fall? Did she spill glue? Did she accidentally eat a stapler?”
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Paisley leaned in too, eyes wide.
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I hesitated.
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Josie shook me. “VIDIA!”
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“I’m fine!” I snapped, swatting her hands away. “And… she didn’t do any of those things.”
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Josie froze. “Wait. What?”
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Paisley frowned. “She didn’t do anything?”
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I lowered my voice. “She’s… normal.”
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Josie looked like I’d just told her the cafeteria was serving gourmet sushi.
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“That’s impossible,” she whispered.
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“It’s not,” I said. “She sat down. She wrote in her notebook. She used a pastel highlighter, Josie.”
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Josie’s mouth opened and closed.
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Paisley crossed her arms. “Maybe she’s pretending.”
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“That’s what I thought,” I admitted.
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Josie’s eyes lit up again. “Okay okay okay. So we need to test her.”
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“No!” I said immediately.
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Josie groaned. “Ugh. You never let me do the fun science.”
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“This isn’t science,” I hissed. “This is you trying to cause a disaster.”
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Paisley tilted her head. “What if… people were just mean to her?”
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Josie and I both stopped.
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Paisley’s voice got quieter. “Like… what if she got the nickname because of one accident? Or because people wanted a reason to laugh?”
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I didn’t like that thought.
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Not because it was wrong.
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Because it sounded… possible.
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Across the playground, I spotted Claudia standing near the wall, holding a book. She wasn’t with anyone.
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Not even the sixth graders.
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She looked up for a second and her eyes met mine.
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I looked away first.
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Of course I did.
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