A/N: Hey, guys, welcome to my Nutcracker story. In modern day. And obviously, there are tons of changes. One of which is Clara's last name not being German. I mean, I know there are some people with German descent out there, but it usually seems they have more English-sounding names. Or whatever. But, anyway, I hope you enjoy this first chapter without any further ado.

Disclaimer(only one): I don't own anything except my ideas.

Chapter 1: Daydreams

Clara Sherman, bored beyond all possible relief in her last hour history class, glanced anxiously up at the clock. Little hand on the three, big hand barely on the twelve. Just four more minutes, and Christmas break would start. Finally. It felt like it had taken forever to reach this moment. And as the big hand gradually inched to the first dash past the twelve, she needed time to speed up. History class was certainly not her forte, and the fact she disliked most of the students in here didn't help matters. Looking about her and opening her ears more, Clara caught wisps of idiotic conversation over mall sales, New Year's bashes (alcohol-soaked, which she wouldn't want to go to even if she'd been invited), and general gossip.

Rolling her eyes at these supposedly intelligent morons, she returned to a sketch she doodled on a sheet of notebook paper. It was a nutcracker soldier in full regalia with fringed epaulettes, gold buttons (though uncolored), and imposing boots marching toward the onslaught of war.

Exciting times for this soldier who would incite violence on a particular mouse king maybe. She smiled contemplatively, remembering just how much she loved that ballet. Despite her apathy toward most ballets, this one held a special place in her heart. It had all started with a December sixth grade incentive trip to the closest city.

This city happened to be Portland, Oregon, located thirty minutes from where she lived in the humble town of Rosewood. Up to its theater they went, and of course, they watched a version of Tchaikovsky's masterpiece. At first, she swore she would sleep through the whole thing.

Instead, she'd been fascinated all the way through, from humble start to glorious finish. There was something about the classical music that kept her interest. She liked how it was well-suited to every scene. Even the single fight scene, though executed in that artsy, graceful way, was great fun to watch. Honestly, she could say that she was drawn to the story because of the variety...and that it appealed to her romantic sensibilities. She loved it.

Funny, how much she begged her parents to take her to go see The Nutcracker a year after that. No thanks to Fred objecting, though, she couldn't. The last time she saw it was in eighth grade when her father relented, and it turned out to be only a father/daughter trip. Better to be disappointed, she guessed, than to be declined false hopes. However, she could only look back on watching the ballet with fondness.

For a finishing touch on her sketch, Clara added a hat similar to what Russian soldiers would have worn in that era. Or at least what she'd seen most nutcrackers wear. Satisfied with her work, she put her pencil away. This drawing made her realize just how badly she wanted break to start.

Sure enough, the bell rang, and everyone got up from their desks with eager smiles on their faces. A two-week vacation, awesome! Clara couldn't resist smiling along with them as she hurriedly packed her things and tucked her "masterpiece" inside her planner book that she normally took home. She could also vividly recall the time when she got a book that had an adaptation of the ballet for Christmas that year. What a great memory! She had been beyond thrilled, for though she wouldn't admit it out loud, she loved the fairy tale aspect of it all. A fight, a fantastical world, romance...!

"Hey, Clara," her best friend Brianne greeted, tugging at the sleeve of her hoodie. "What you gonna do for break?"

Brought back to reality, Clara shrugged. "Try not to get too bored, I guess. Though I'm gonna have family over for Christmas Eve. Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Renee, Uncle Josh, Maddie, and...it."

"Yeah, I feel bad for you that you're related to Austin Myers." Brianne clicked her tongue sympathetically. "He picks on my cousin, actually."

"Wouldn't surprise me." Clara got to her locker then to unload. "But, anyway, it should be a good time. Fred won't be such a brat. How about you?"

"Oh, me? Eh, here at Mom's for Christmas Eve and Dad's for Christmas. As usual."

Brianne Wilson, her closest friend since the second grade, came from parents who'd been divorced for a bit over six years now. As much as Clara pitied her, she couldn't technically relate. Her family life seemed too full at times, too busy. Dad at work, Mom at work, Fred being in soccer and basketball, and her in...in...Well, she was probably the least industrious out of all her family. Still, it was constant movement, frenzied rush, so why couldn't they just relax?

"Mm...Well, be thankful there're no pesky brothers in your life, let's just leave it at that," she half-joked.

Brianne laughed good-naturedly. "Yeah, I'm so glad I was born an only child. Oh, almost forgot."

After rummaging in her purse, she took out a Hallmark Christmas card (with the Nutcracker emblazoned on it, no less) and a little box. Clara took them with a smile, letting her eyes linger especially on the card.

"I know how much you love that story. My mom and I were going to go up to Portland to see it on the 23rd and...Look in the card, Clara!"

"OK, OK, don't rush me, jeez!" She playfully rolled her dark brown eyes and flipped it open.

With something that could have been described as an overjoyed squeal, she saw that there was a ticket inside to see that ballet. Oh, it would be so exciting to watch it again! And to see it with Brianne and her mom, who was like a surrogate mom to her...

Upon a recollection, Clara deflated slightly. "Damn...I can't go, Bri. Sorry. But, my mom said she needed help on the pies. Not to mention Dad...He's all like, 'You should spend more time with the family, Clare-Bear'...Whenever he pulls that Clare-Bear crap—I could ask still. Maybe they'll let me go."

"Sounds like they won't, though. That sucks. I totally understand," Brianne sighed.

An awkward silence passed between the two teenage girls, who both were disappointed that they couldn't spend any best friend time together. If she hadn't been focused on this ruined possibility, Clara would have been more resentful that she probably couldn't come. It was always what they wanted to do and not what she wanted. There was only so much generosity she was willing to give. She knew she needed some time for herself too...and not just to herself, like it seemed to be at home.

Trying to brighten up, she said, "Well, I'll just see what's in this box anyway."

In the box was a gorgeous silver bracelet with colorful charms attached.

When Clara glanced up at Brianne, the other girl put her hand up to her neck in an embarrassed way. "I know, old-school, but at least it's holiday themed. I thought it was cute."

"It is cute." Clara hugged her. "You're the best, Bri."

"Yeah, I just wish we could have gone to see the ballet together."

"I know. But, you know how it is in my house." Being no saint, exactly, there was a bitter edge to Clara's words.

"See you after New Year's, maybe sooner."

"Yeah, see you. Bye."

Maybe she was being too self-pitying over this, for she'd already seen the Christmas production two times. What was she complaining about? When did it begin? Somewhere between her parents watching her little brother's basketball game instead of her eighth grade choral recital and more time on her own, she guessed. Clearly, Fred was the favorite since he was the athlete. Right? Maybe not...It wasn't like Mom and Dad totally bailed on her. Mom took her out shopping two months on her seventeenth birthday...while on the cellphone off and on.

With an impulsive kick at her locker in frustration, Clara left the school building.

"No," she firmly told herself while biking home. "You're being too much of a spoiled brat, Clara. You're well-off in terms of money, and you got a roof under your head. So what if Mom and Dad pay more attention to Fred? Hell, so what if the rest of the family pays more attention to Fred? Get over yourself!"

As far as she was concerned, she needed a healthy dose of reality. It wasn't like her parents avoided talking to her either. She'd had a great conversation with Dad the other day when he'd gotten off work. However, Fred consistently held the upper hand, simply because he was everything she wasn't: popular, athletic...Wait, that was about it.

There was no way that she would allow herself to be number two to her little brother. They ought to be on an equal playing field. Maybe they both were to their parents after all, and she hadn't wisely reached that conclusion yet. Meantime, letting this brother thing corrode her good mood from starting Christmas break was extremely unhealthy.

"I just gotta stop...I'm being immature," she groaned before seeing her house just around the bend. Ah, finally. Like usual, Fred would be at the neighbor kid's across the street, and Mom and Dad still working.

Sure enough, she had to unlock the door using the spare key under the doormat. Typical. Once she went inside, it was all TV watching and junk snacking from that point on. She didn't have a job, simply because she'd never been hired. It didn't matter anyway. She didn't need one. Yet, at the same time, Clara could feel herself losing brain cells watching TV. And there was nothing good on either. How could she spend her whole Christmas break like this? Oh, the eve before and the actual day itself would be fine. It was just the remainder of it that would be tough to survive. But, come on, no more complaints. Wasn't this about average for American life these days?

Later on, with her parents home and dinner eaten, Clara helped her mother with washing the dishes. She wondered if she would be let off pie baking duty in two days with that ticket to The Nutcracker. After all, Mom was very shrewd in money matters. Perhaps knowing that Brianne and her mom bought that ticket for her would make Mom reconsider. After all, it would be a waste of money if she ultimately ended up being unable to go...

"So, Mom," Clara started off nonchalantly enough, "Brianne gave me a couple of early Christmas presents."

Mom rinsed out a couple of forks. "Oh? What'd she get you?"

"Well, this one bracelet she got for me was pretty. It has a Santa Claus charm, a wreath charm, a reindeer charm—you know, stuff like that? But...she also got me..." Clara took a breath, prepared to break the news. "A ticket to go see The Nutcracker. It's playing up at the theater in Portland on the 23rd."

She already felt her heart sinking when she heard an abrupt pause in dish washing. "Clara, I think we've already discussed this. The 23rd is when we're busy getting ready for the family to come over. I need all the help I can get. Besides, you've seen it before. No, I'm sorry, but you can't possibly go."

Of course. At the same time, though, it wasn't fair. Her parents could cut the time they spent with her in half, but they wouldn't let her spend much time with her friends? Not to mention Fred's extracurricular activities.

Angrily, Clara threw aside the drying towel. "If Fred wanted to go to a college basketball game or whatever, you'd let him go. Right?"

Mom gave her a pointed look. "Now, Clara, don't take this personally."

"Hmph, too late," she scoffed, storming out of the kitchen with no desire to help further, only to sulk. It was just...If Mom hadn't gotten that job at that photography studio a few years back, would she, the daughter, be any happier now?

A/N: Anyone being reminded of the beginning of Labyrinth? Thought so. XD Yeah, I didn't mean to have it turn it out that way, but then again, I don't think there's such a thing as a perfect family life. So, if Clara seems a little whiny at first, don't worry. She gets a little more likeable throughout the story. Or at least I'd hope so.

I wonder if I'll get any responses to this. Because if I do, I might put up the second chapter tomorrow. Just depends.