"Okay, Claud. Let's try another one," Janine said. I tried to focus on the numbers in my math book. I was getting tired. "Now, look," she said. "This is an improper fraction. But all we need to do is simplify, then multiply by the reciprocal ..." I blanked out for a minute. When Janine got that schoolteacher-ish tone in her voice, she could be hard to listen to. Besides, most of what she was saying sounded like gibberish to me. I know it wasn't right, when she was being nice enough to take the time to help me study - but I just drifted off. I was thinking about this collage I'm working on, and wondering if there would be any good pictures in the new gardening magazine that my mom had brought home that day.

"... and, by using cross-simplification we find that the train was actually traveling at forty-eight miles per hour, which is ... Hey Claudia!" Janine snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Earth to Claudia, Earth to Claudia," she said. "Can you read me?" "Oh, sorry, Janine," I said. "I was just - " "You were daydreaming again," she said. "I know that look on your face." She frowned and pushed her glasses up - they'd slid down her nose while she was lecturing. "What were you thinking about?" "Oh, nothing, really," I said. "Let's keep going. What about Problem Five?" There was no way I was going to tell Janine what I'd been thinking about. I had finished planning my collage, and I'd started to ponder the very deep and important issue of ... what I was going to wear to school the next day! If Janine only knew.

Janine cares nothing about clothes - and that's just one more thing that makes us very different. Janine would be happy wearing the same white blouse, plaid skirt, red cardigan, and flat shoes every day.