I was clashing seasons. My tights were winter snowflakes, crystal blue on a white background. My dress was summer flowers, swirling upwards on dark purple cloth. My clogs were spring blooms. One dainty little flower on the edge of beautiful sky blue. Outside the doors of Eggelston Elementary, it was fall. I was headed down to the music room from the 2nd floor. The third grade floor. I was late for class. Cindy Tingle wasn't clashing seasons. She was on her way up to the 3rd floor. The 5th grader floor. My former best friend's sister was wearing winter. A crystal blue and pink snowflake on her white shirt. A red denim skirt- seasons left to be implied- and pink tights that matched in inside of her snowflake. Her hair was French braided. I wondered if she would like to borrow my tights. They were too big for me anyway. But she was matching, not clashing. She didn't need my help. I heard from my second grade teacher, the one from last year, that Cindy Tingle just won the fifth grade best dressed prize. She said I could win it too, when I got there. I didn't believe her. I was clashing seasons. Cindy Tingle wasn't. I didn't realize that when I got there, I would be matching seasons. I would be fall in fall with leaves and beautiful browns, reds, purples. But right now I was clashing seasons. And besides, when I got there, there wasn't even a prize anymore.