Class of Misfits

ten | Wisteria

"This school is full of indecent fopdoodles."

Wisteria hummed quietly to herself as she got dressed, pulling on a neatly ironed white blouse and a pleated skirt.

This was her standard schoolday outfit, straight from the 1900s. Wisteria loved the 1900s, as it was a simple and much more pleasant time. Manners were everything. Sarcasm and comebacks were nonexistent. Everyone minded their own business. People said what they meant.

Wisteria adjusted her glasses in the mirror. Pulling out the braid she had slept in, she began to plait her hair, her long fingers weaving the strands together and securing the braid with a black ribbon.

The door to the bathroom swung open and Laurie walked out in a pair of black running shorts and a grey tank top, her brown hair held up in a ponytail.

Wisteria gasped.

"What are you wearing?" she asked, disgusted.

Laurie stared, bewildered. "This is what I wear every day." Shaking her head, she made her way to the dressing table, stumbling over clothes that were strewn on the floor.

"Not for long. I've tolerated your terrible taste in clothing since the year started, but this is too much. You've resorted to wearing ripped clothing!"

Laurie rolled her eyes.

"It's not ripped, it's a tank top. If you want to see ripped clothes, take a look at Barbie's wardrobe."

Wisteria turned her back on Laurie, rummaging through her desk for her fountain pen. It wasn't that she had anything against the outfit. Wisteria simply hated the clothes because they were the type her sister wore, and looking at them would be a constant reminder that her sister was cooler, smarter, and more popular than her.

Grabbing her messenger bag, she smoothed out her skirt and looked around the room one last time, before slipping on her flats and exiting the room.

By the time Wisteria had made it to the cafeteria, most of her classmates were eating their breakfast. She waited patiently for her omelette, then carefully carried it to their table.

Her usual seat across from Partycake was now occupied by Juila, who was engaged in a heated debate with Mikayla about whether or not Mrs. Brunner was the worst teacher at Kingston.

Wisteria felt a wave of anger and hurt wash over her. She'd always known that her sister didn't care much for her, but to give away her seat was a new low.

Sullenly, she took a seat at the other of the table, next to Donna, who was lost in her book, as usual. Sky, who was sitting across from her, scooted over a seat, then whispered something to Barbie who laughed in return.

This was too much for Wisteria. Holding back her tears, she set her napkin on the table and ran toward the bathrooms, locking the door behind her.

Why doesn't anyone like me?

She placed her back against the cool, marble walls of the bathroom.

Why doesn't Partycake like me?

She pulled her legs toward her, hugging them as she sat shivering on the cold linoleum floor.

Why am I not good enough?

✽✽✽

Wisteria walked back to the cafeteria after regaining her composure.