After a week, Freddie decided he wanted to stay for a while longer. The Spanish teacher agreed but on one note. Freddie had to teach the class at least one day a week. He agreed and taught every Wednesday. Freddie still followed Clara around though.
Every day for the next three weeks was like this. Freddie woulf follow her around and they would ask each other questions.
Clara still didn't open up. She did not want pity. She also did not want to be judged by her role model.
But then, there was a day where she did. It was sometime within late October.
Clara hadn't got more than five hours of sleep. She was up getting stuff ready for her siblings. Another reason was her insomnia she got from time to time.
Freddie noticed this when she came late to class. Clara looked horrible. Dark circles under her eyelids.
"Why were you late?" the teacher had asked.
"My alarm did not go off. I'm terribly sorry," she apologized.
"You interrupted me when I was in the middle of a story. Just take your seat and listen."
"I wonder what stick is up his ass," she mumbled.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
She sat down in a chair next to Freddie.
"Good morning," Freddie greeted her.
"Morning." Clara replied.
"You look tired," he commented.
"That's because I am."
She put her head in her hands as her teacher droned on.
"If this dude does not stop talking, I swear I will fall asleep," she thought.
And falling asleep, she did. That was until she was woken up by Bohemian Rhapsody being blasted through the room.
The music startled her.
"Are you okay?" Freddie asked.
"I'm fine," she said quickly. "Just tired."
Clara's jacket sleeve rose up to reveal a nasty looking bruise.
"What's that?" Freddie asked.
"Nothing," Clara replied as she quickly covered up her arm.
Freddie knew now that everything was not fine.
"Where did you get that?"
"Get what?"
"That bruise on your arm."
"I fell."
Freddie left it at that.
The next block also went by as quickly as this one did. Clara blasted music in her headphones to keep herself from sleeping. She did not even realize any time had passed until she was walking outside with Freddie.
"Clara,"
"Yeah,"
"Do you want me to drive you back to your highschool?"
"Sure,"
They climbed into his car. Freddie, being the perfect gentlemen, opened the car door for her.
"I could've done that myself," she said.
"I know."
Clara buckled up and layed her head against the seat.
Freddie mimicked her.
"You know you can talk to me," he told her.
"Yeah,"
"You haven't talked to me about your life yet."
"It's just not a good story."
"How so,"
Clara inhaled before beginning. freddie started the car and had begun to drive.
"Okay," she said. "It all started when I was born. I had the most perfect mom. She always bought me nice clothes and was just an overall good person. She then got into a bad relationship. We had moved to Florida. I had perfect friends and I went to this wonderful school. David, her boyfriend, was the opposite. He hated me. He would lock me in my room and would refuse to feed me. He would hurt me. My mom got tired of this and told him she wanted to leave. I was hiding behind the couch when he killed her and then himself. I was eight years old. I was then put in an orphanage because no one else wanted me. Then, there was this wonderfuul family wanted me. They had two other foster kids. I was ovejoyed. That was until I hit high school.I went through a stage where I would saty up and read. It was great until I got caught. They kinda stopped trusting me for a while. I can see they still have that fear but now, I try to make it up to them. I help take care of the other kids."
And she kept rambling.
Freddie Highmore did not stop her. He let her speak. She ended up growing tired and fell asleep.
*Hey, my dudes. Sorry I have not updated. I've been through a lot with Corona and all. I will try to update more, though.*