the art of being troubled || clouis

9 || in all its glory

APRIL 17, 2003

Clementine perched her legs atop Kate's decorative coffee table, staring up at the ceiling and tapping her fingers against the suede chair's arm rests. She blew raspberries into the air incidentally as childish as AJ would behave, possibly when he was bored out of his mind during Audrey's shopping trips. However, boredom wasn't the emotion swarming Clementine in that moment, in fact, she was rather in the depths of recollection, attempting to gather an answer to Kate's question.

How did you accept people's kindness this week?

Clementine pursed her lips, her legs entertaining a jittery pattern as she continued to think. It truly perplexed her at the amount of kindness she'd been shown in just a week of being at a behaviour correctional school. Well, of course there was the expected bullshit that typically came along with bunking in a hotpot of kids riddled with ADHD and psychopathic tendencies. There was the typical death-glarer had she stared just a little too long, the fight instigators desperate for a beat down, the creeps stalking her around campus, the kleptomaniacs swiping stationary from her pencil case, the downright insane, and then there was everyone else. Everyone who, at face value, appeared somewhat normal. Chunky braces, limp haircuts, tattered sneakers. Although deep down, she just knew they weren't composed one-hundred percent of the time. She could envision it almost perfectly; neat and tidy Susie smuggling a hamster into the science room and spit-roasting it on a Bunsen burner at three in the morning. But hey, Susie was kind.

"Susie Blanchard picked up my binder when I dropped it in the hall," Clementine raised her head to face Kate. "That was nice."

"That is nice of her," Kate began to reposition herself on the chair, "I'm sure there were some other acts of kindness shown to you. Contrary to what you may believe, we have quite a few friendly faces here at Ericson's. I believe some would have found their way to you at some point."

Oh, and they certainly did.

There was the morning Violet invited her to breakfast. Given she was waiting on a never-showing Minerva the whole time, they bonded over reading – done over a tray of poorly composed breakfast.

Even after last week's incident, she hadn't got anything more than a stare down from Becca. How kind of her not to retaliate?

Then there was the safe haven, probably an act of kindness she was better off not mentioning to a staff member. Despite it ending on a sour note, Clementine enjoyed almost the entire night. Who would've thought? Sure, she was already looking to be occupied on the lonesome Friday night, she still found solace in the fact that there were some likeable people trapped on campus like she was. Louis made sure she came along. Louis helped her up the wall. Louis kept her words in his head and brought a bottle and some friends to share it with her. Now, Clementine had her doubts. That was pretty clear. She wasn't sure of his motives, but, objectively, it was kind of him to make her feel truly welcomed into his crew of friends. Maybe she liked that. Maybe a little, maybe a lot.

Maybe entirely.

Then it was the music room. Louis kept her out of trouble and brought her to a place where she wasn't going to be gawked at. Everyone focused on the music, on the talent, on everything else around her except her. It was comforting knowing she could breathe a little easier in a room where all but one person, one ridiculously obnoxious, sort of funny person was doing whatever they wanted to be doing. Aside from Ruby's helping hand, of course. Another act of kindness shown to her.

There was a rumbling inside of Clementine that told her: Take this, take this kindness; accept it, don't let it fall flat to never be offered again. It shouted cacophonously against that now smaller part of her which deemed she wasn't important enough to receive it. That she could do what she needed on her own, regardless of the intervention of someone else.