Prodigy: Chloe Starr

Chloe was sitting at her desk, lost in her own private world. She was just dreaming of stepping onto the stage in Seattle to raucous applause, when...

"C-star! Snap out of it! The bell just rang for lunch! Didn't you hear it?"

C-star. That was Chloe’s best friends' nickname for her. This friend was Miley Jacques, a girl Chloe had taken a liking to the moment she came to America. Literally. Miley's cousin was a flight attendant, and sometimes she came on the plane with him. So that was where they had met. On a plane, squished in a seat with a snoring old man.

Chloe sighed, and followed Miley as they lined up for lunch.

"Do they honestly call this stuff food?" Aiden said as he prodded his cafeteria glop with his fork, wearing a sour expression. Nat sat down next to him.

"Just eat it," he said. "It's the best we’ve got.”

"I'd settle for less," Aiden grumbled, pushing his tray away. "I'm not eating it."

Nat rolled his eyes. "And people wonder how you stay thin."

"Not my fault," Aiden said haughtily, and folded his arms.

"All your fault."

"You enjoy antagonizing me, don't you?"

"Yup."

“You’re a right foul git, you do know that?”

“Anything else?”

Aiden sighed and brushed a strand of long blonde hair out of his eyes. "Hopeless," he muttered. He looked up. "When do we leave?" he added. "I want to finish that snowball fight Miley and I started."

Nat looked to the heavens. "So help me," he cried weakly. "Aiden..." he grabbed his twin's head and pointed it in the direction of the clock.”Do you see that?"

"Yeah," Aiden said slowly. "What about it?"

"Can you tell time?"

"Yes."

”Well, when the big hand reaches the ten, it's time to leave. Do — you — under — stand?"

"Oh, yeah, I get it now."

"Great, thickhead. Just great."

Nat needn't have wasted his breath on bitter words, because Aiden was no longer listening. He was staring ahead with a glazed look in his eyes. Nat groaned softly. He knew that look. The only time Aiden got that look was either they were in Social Studies, or he was staring at Chloe Starr.

Probably the latter.

She raised her hand to be dismissed, and soon the other fifth graders followed suit. Aiden stayed put. Nat jerked Aiden out of his reverie by saying, "Aiden! The bell!"

"Wha—" Aiden looked around, then raised his hand.

"I got you, Mariah, you know I did!" Aiden shouted to Miley. They were in the midst of a furious snowball fight, which, for some mysterious reason, had never been outlawed at their school.

"It's Miley, not Mariah, for the umpteenth time," she shouted back. "And you did not hit me!"

"Did too!"

“Did not!"

"Did too!"

Miley rolled her eyes and planted a well-aimed snowball right between his eyes. That settled their argument, but it also gave Miley ten minutes on the bench and a lecture about "collar and bellow" by the duty. It used to be "waist and bellow", but the snowball fanatics held such a strike that the school was forced to raise it. Miley sat back on the bench and watched the snowball fight as it raged on. Aiden got whacked several more times, and when the bell finally rang, he was black and blue all over and had a nice red welt forming where Miley had nailed him in the forehead. He was beaten and grinning when they got back to the classroom. He smiled at Chloe, who took a step back and said, “What happened to your face?”

His smile faded faster than Lisa Mays’ hand could hit the air, and for those who don’t know, that’s pretty fast.

“That’s not nice,” he said.

“Seriously, though,” said Chloe concernedly. “What happened to your face?”

Aiden grimaced. “Dear Mariah over there,” he said, and jerked a thumb at Miley. She smiled sweetly.

“What, little ol’ me?”

Aiden glared at her.

“Yes, you!” he fumed. “And don’t play innocent with me. I’m not going to forget that too soon.”

Miley rolled her eyes. “So I gathered,” she sighed.

Aiden was about to retaliate, but Chloe decided to interfere before things escalated. Which they usually did.

“Oi, guys, just let it rest. We don’t want a big breakout like we had last week. Just go put your snow pants away and breathe.”

Aiden and Miley looked furiously at Chloe, trying to find some reason to keep arguing. Aiden did, saying loudly:

“The spot on my head isn’t getting better with apologies or deep breaths, the only thing that’s going to make me feel any better is hitting Miley in the head with a hard-packed snowball!”

Miley went to say something back, but Chloe hissed irately: “Teacher coming! Duck!”

Aiden dived behind the coat rack, accidently knocking his head on the wall hidden by all the coats. There was a pause, then a long, muffled groan. Miley crouched down by the coat hangers and said to Aiden, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Friends?” Aiden’s voice was three octaves higher in pain, but Miley smiled and held out her hand.

“Friends.”

Chloe breathed a contented sigh of relief.

The rest of the day passed like any other day, with the exception of the class being even less concentrated than usual. They were mostly concentrated on Aiden, whose head was wrapped in gauze from the office. Anyone who had ever been whacked in the head by a snowball thrown by a pro snowball thrower and then bashed their head against a wall exceptionally hard in the same hour would have an idea of how he felt.

Currently, he wished he could pass out on the spot. Actually, that would’ve been a possibility if Nat hadn’t been nudging him every five seconds and whispering, “Psssst! Hey! How’s your head?” and “You okay?”