Chapter 1

She fiddled with her keys outside the door. It was only a few minutes before students would arrive and Jennifer Fitzsimmons found herself locked out of her own classroom. She switched from key to key, sliding each in, realizing it was the wrong key, and then flipping to the next on the ring. Jennifer always found herself without her key ring. She had a horrible habit of misplacing things and this was the third time this school year she had to borrow the giant key ring that the janitor dragged around. The weight of the thing burned Jennifer's forearm. How did he carry these around all day? Another key failed. Jennifer groaned in annoyance.

"Uh-oh," a feminine British voice came from behind her, "locked out again, Fitzy?"

Jennifer spun to see Clara, the first year English teacher. She had apparently moved to Iowa from over-seas only two years ago. Though Jennifer was kind to all the new teachers, she felt a connection to Clara, they became friends before the year even began. Now they often saved one another a spot in the teacher's lounge. Jennifer had taught at Sheldon High School for four years, and in those four years she had made attempts to find a group of co-workers to gravitate towards. The problem with teaching was, often times the teachers segregated into cliques just as much as the students. Sure, Jennifer had made acquaintances in her years of teaching, but she never felt truly connected to any of her co-workers. That was until the new teacher arrived.

Jennifer shrugged helpless. "I'm useless, Clara."

"That," Clara said, "I can see." She shot Jennifer a wink as she snatched the key ring from Jenn's hand.

"The trick is,"-Clara said whipping through each key quickly-"to remember the key number, 1057, 1056, and here we are, 1055." Clara held out the key to Jennifer.

Jennifer was puzzled, but trusting her friend she grabbed the key ring and slid the key into the hole, and with a small jiggle was able to effortlessly open the door to her classroom.

"How did you…" Jennifer began.

Clara shot a knowing smile, "Wouldn't you like to know?" Clara said. "The truth is, after your second time, when I sat here watching you fiddle for twenty minutes, I simply took note as to which key you used. Looks like my observation was useful, wouldn't you say?"

Jennifer leaned against the door-frame. "Well, you'd think you would have told me so I could write the number down."

"What?" Clara said. "And take away this opportunity to be the hero? No, this was a lot more fun. Plus, you know you would have simply lost the paper with the number attached,"-Clara tapped her forehead-"best to have kept it up here."

Jennifer smiled back at Clara and slipped into her room. She flipped on the lights. The room wasn't anything special; the bare, white painted cinder-block walls felt more like a prison than a High School. Jennifer tried her best to cover the walls in historical or cultural posters. Jennifer taught world history, though the standardized testing that determined her curriculum forced her to focus most of her attention on Europe. She didn't completely hate it, Europe was plenty interesting, but Jennifer wished to spend weeks on the dynasties of China or the Incan empire.

"Still having trouble with the Jacobs kid?" Clara asked as she followed Jennifer into the room.

The desk was a mess and Jennifer tried to organize it quickly as she kept up the conversation with Clara. "Don't even get me started on that boy." Jennifer said. "He comes in everyday and smarts off, disrupting the entire class, and yet each test he's in the top of the class. I'd be impressed if I wasn't sure his outbursts pull back the rest."

"Just be firm." Clara responded. "If you let them walk all over you, they'll continue to push. I know you love these kids, Jenn, but you just need to slam down your foot and take charge."

"I just hate being considered a 'strict' teacher." Jennifer said, throwing files into drawers of her desk blindly.

"Being firm doesn't mean you're strict." Clara said. "You've got it in you, I've seen you with the swim team. Just start treating the students like your team."

Jennifer stopped and looked up. "When did you see me with my swim team?"

Clara blushed. "I was leaving late one day and just happened to walk by."

"That was sweet of you." Jennifer said, noting that the pool and parking lot were on opposite sides of the building.

"School pride, Fitzy." Clara said.

Jennifer smiled. "Yeah, yeah, you're right."

"When's your first meet anyway?" Clara asked.

"A couple of weeks away." Jennifer said. "I can't believe it's already almost October. The school year is racing by."

"Tell me about it," Clara said, "I'm already having to prep for midterms. We don't test like this in England. Still getting used to the education system here."

"You'll get it soon enough." Jennifer said. The bell rang over the speaker.

"Ah," Clara said, pointing to the ceiling, "that's my cue to head on my way to class."

"Thanks for saving me, Clara." Jennifer said.

"Hey, that's why I'm here. Flew into the Midwest just to save Jennifer Fitzsimmons from being locked out of her classroom."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, "Shoo, I'm over your sass."

Clara mocked offense, "But Fitzy, I though that was your favorite part?"

Jennifer laughed. "Not today, it isn't."

Clara laughed and headed out the door. Passing under the doorframe she turned around. "Do you guys need chaperones at these swim meets?" Clara asked.

"Like another teacher?" Jennifer responded. "Not really, we normally have enough parents."

Clara looked down at her feet. "Yeah, of course that makes sense."

"But I could always use a friend." Jennifer smiled at Clara.

Clara lifted her eyes to meet Jennifer's. "I may have to come to one," Clara said, "school pride and all."

Jennifer laughed. "School pride." she agreed.

Clara shot Jennifer a smile, her nose scrunching before spinning out into the hallway. A student almost bumped into Clara but she made an elaborate spin maneuver to avoid the collision and a goofy look appeared on her face as she looked back at Jennifer. Jennifer smiled as Clara righted herself and shot towards her own room. Jennifer caught herself watching Clara walk away. It felt good to finally have a close friend.

The microwave dinged in the teacher's lounge. Jennifer popped the lid and removed leftover pasta from the previous night. She pulled up a chair to the small table. Across from her sat Linda from the science department. She was nice, Jennifer gathered, but she was near retirement and seemed to distance herself from her younger colleagues. Jennifer sat quietly, stirring the pasta, trying to get some sort of consistency of temperature. The edge would be fire, and the center ice. Jennifer had perfected the amount of heating time, to the right amount of stirring to make microwavable dishes bearable.

The door opened and Clara Oswald strutted in, a look of knowing on her face. She always seemed to wear that smug smile. It wasn't one that put down others, but somehow invited them in. Jennifer simultaneously felt self-conscious and self-assured around Clara. Something about the British girl just drew Jennifer out of her shell. Jennifer smiled.

"I thought you were on lunch duty?" Jennifer asked.

"You'd think so," Clara said, "but I got Becky to cover for me."

"Now, how'd you go about that?" Jennifer asked.

The side of Clara's mouth peaked in a sly grin. "By saying, 'Becky, cover for me.' "

Linda scoffed. Clara ignored her. "I can't stand lunch duty, plus you always are miserable in here alone."

Jennifer laughed. "I can't say I mind the company. I haven't really had anyone to talk to." Jennifer said.

Linda cleared her throat.

Jennifer turned, "Oh, Linda, I didn't mean anything by that, I just meant…"

Clara stifled a giggle. The older woman rolled her eyes and took her meal out of the lounge leaving the two younger teachers alone.

"I'm so embarrassed." Jennifer said, cheeks burning. "I was so rude."

"To Linda?" Clara asked. "She was looking for an exit anyway."

Clara pulled a chair out and slid into it. She always had this unique, yet immaculate style. She had on a knee-length pleated skirt, with a cardigan, her hair braided and wrapped in a circle on the back of her head in an up-do. Jenn admired how very 'Clara' her style was.

"Fitzy?" Clara asked.

Jennifer realized that in her daze she had been looking up and down Clara, examining every piece of her outfit. The heat rose again in Jennifer's cheeks. She looked away quickly at the clock and began to fiddle with the ends of her hair.

"Yeah, sorry, just scatterbrained today." Jennifer said. "How, uh, how were your morning classes?"

"Oh, good," Clara said, "you know how it is, same kids, different day. Half will listen, half will sleep. That's if we're lucky. But I don't want to talk about work on our forty-five minute reprieve. Tell me something I don't know about you Jennifer Fitzsimmons!"

Jennifer was taken aback by the sudden inquiry. "What do you mean?" Jennifer asked, stalling.

Clara leaned over the table, elbows smacking down on the surface while resting her chin in her hands. "I'm saying," Clara said, "that I want to know more about you."

For the third time the heat rose in Jennifer's cheeks. She didn't understand why she was acting so shy. She normally was one of the more outgoing people, despite having reservations with making new friends. Jennifer could hold a conversation, she wasn't a complete introvert, but she wasn't sure what she was. She loved social occasions and spending time with people, but she had a hard time instigating. Now, lost in thought, Jennifer wasn't sure what to say. What kind of person just asks such an open-ended question? Jennifer had grown attached to Clara's bubbly personality but was always surprised by her curious inquiry.

"Uh," Jennifer began, "what do you want to know?"

"Anything," Clara said, "what do I need to know about you to be your friend? Have you killed anyone? Did you used to deal drugs? Are you a twin?"

Jennifer laughed, "No to all of those, thankfully. Lets see. Oh! I have a boyfriend, Greg, I don't think I've told you much about hi-"

"Tell me something else." Clara cut in. "Boyfriends are boring."

Jennifer laughed. "Uh, well," Jennifer stuttered, "I was pre-Olympic in the 200 meter backstroke."

"Pre-Olympic?" Clara asked. "What's pre-Olympic?"

"Ah,"-Jennifer searched for an explanation-"you see, it's kind of like the tournament before the Olympics. It's kind of like almost the Olympics? Basically I was pretty good, but not good enough to make the Olympics. Second fiddle, you know?"

Clara put her hand on Jennifer's "That's amazing!" Clara said. "How exciting, did you win trophies or medals or something?"

"Yeah," Jennifer said sitting a little straighter, "It was this really cool experience. I got to swim in a heat with a future Olympic silver medalist. It was pretty exciting. I mean, once you get anywhere close to the Olympics its just sort of a dream. Sure, some people can't take their eye off the prize long enough to soak in where they are, what they are competing for, but if you do, it's just spectacular."

Clara smiled, encouraging Jennifer.

"I guess that's what I try and pass on to my swimmers, you know?" Jennifer continued, "Enjoy competing. Push yourselves, be your best, and don't slack off, but for the love of God, enjoy the rush. Because, when you dip your head below the water, and all the sounds muffle, for those few seconds, you're left with just your thoughts. If your thoughts are only on getting that trophy or that win, you're missing the beauty of swimming. It's the feeling of the water rushing past you, the feeling of your lungs burning right before you inhale that humid breath. I don't know. There is something majestic when I'm in the water. It's like I'm flying, or something."

Jennifer felt Clara's fingers wrapping around her own on the table. She paused and looked down at them. They were soft, slightly cold, but inviting. Jennifer had never been close enough to a friend to hold hands, it felt alien to her. She liked it, she liked the closeness they were sharing. She needed more friends like Clara.

Clara pulled her hand away, noticing Jennifer's gaze.

She scratched the part in her hair, "You're so passionate." Clara observed.

Jennifer waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. Swimming has been such an important part of my life, I guess I ramble about it."

"No," Clara said, "I love your passion, don't write it off and don't explain it away. Hold onto that passion and ride it."

Jennifer looked into Clara's eyes. Her genuine smile, her caring words. Jennifer couldn't understand why Clara chose her to befriend. She had walked right in, and within the first week was stopping by Jennifer's door in the mornings, and waiting to walk with her to their cars at the end of the day.

The lunch bell rang.

"Well," Clara said, "there goes my interrogation."

Clara got out of her seat and began walking to the door as Jennifer threw the remainder of her lukewarm dish into the trash.

"Hey, Clara," Jennifer called after the short brunette, "uh this might be weird, but do you want to get together sometime outside of work? Maybe hang out?"

Clara smiled. "Absolutely," she said, "just pick a day, any day. Well, except for Wednesdays, I have a thing on Wednesdays, but any other day and I'm your girl."

"Great," Jennifer said, smiling, "I'll figure something out."

"You better," Clara said, "I'm tired of carrying the weight in this friendship." The last word she accented with a smile and a cute scrunch of her nose before disappearing out the door without awaiting a response.

For the second time today, Jennifer Fitzsimmons caught herself gawking as Clara Oswald disappeared behind a door.