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clonehighjoansieofarc · 2 years

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🎓 SPECIAL DAY

☆ a very special Joanfk Clone High one-shot

It was college graduation, and everyone sported identical black caps and gowns. Students shuffled in metal foldout chairs, talking amongst themselves about how proud they were of each other and how the social curse and interminable course of education were finally over.

Joan was valedictorian. A title she deemed highly but never thought would be bestowed upon her— yet again, Joan never thought she’d live to be twenty-three years old (with the original Joan of Arc living only to nineteen)

People expected things from her: living up to the holy and refined standards her clone mother left, delivering a killer speech that’ll blow everyone away, leaving them inspired, and tossing their caps up. And with the weight of a little box in her gown’s pocket, she prayed the societal code didn’t make her regret this life-changing decision.

Joan sat in the front row of the chairs lined up at the football field. Beside her JFK (holding her hand, squeezing it tightly), an empty chair with a sign saying: Seat for Ponce (Joan requested that for JFK), Cleo who was meticulously checking her makeup and repeatedly asking Joan if she could fix her hair or reapply her eyeliner before Joan went in front of the whole school (Joan said no), Abe fumbled with his camera, ready to document this speech, smiling wide, and Gandhi who was busy blowing the golden tassel away from his face.

Ear-splitting microphone feedback echoed through the field, capturing the students’ attention. Professor. Scudworth stood at the podium, tapping it excessively with a sleazy smile comparable to a car salesman.

“Welcome, everyone. I present the graduates of Clone State. Class of 2008. I’m very honored to introduce this year’s valedictorian and class-elected speaker, but I just can’t introduce this person without saying ‘History, psychology, creative writing, cinematography’. I think you know who I’m talking about. We will remember this student who said: ‘Hey world, screw you.’”

Scudworth gestured to Joan. “Giving a speech… Miss Joan of Arc.”

As Scudworth walked away from the podium, the crowd applauded. Joan grinned, got up, and neatened her gown, but before she made her way to the stand, JFK sprung up, quickly kissed her cheek, then sat back with Cleo, Abe, and Gandhi in the audience, clapping happily, hollering, and pumping their fists. Joan continued her walk and shook Scudworth’s hand, who then sat down.

Joan stood at the podium, gripping its rim tightly as anxiety swirled in her stomach, and she stared at the crowd, then at her bestest friends in the front. She took a deep breath and spoke.

“Class of 2008, I thank you one and all. I’m standing here today…”

JFK leaned onto the empty chair. “Look at those eyes, Poncey.” JFK smiled, not taking his eyes off his girlfriend. Cleo looked over at him, then turned away to admire her foster sister proudly.

“We take our next steps into the world with passion, conviction, and a strong sense of self, understanding that initial impressions are not always right.” Joan and Cleo’s eyes met, and Cleo giggled, mouthing a secret sister message.

“You must always have faith and trust in people.” Joan bit her lip to stifle a laugh when her eyes laid on Gandhi and Abe, who freely let out a chuckle.

Joan took another deep breath. “We’re all about to enter ‘The Real World’. That’s what everybody says. But I have something to say to all of you. We’ve gone to school together for eight years, and we’ve been through a lot. But with that training out of high school and college done, what will happen to us? We all know what the answers are. We want to be happy, do our own thing, yet live up to our clone parents. We all want to define ourselves as we choose.” Joan cleared her throat, watching as everyone listened and stared intently at her “School… It’s a place where one person- if it’s the right person, they change you.” Joan’s eyes flitted to JFK. A warm pink colored her cheeks. “At least that’s what happened to me.” JFK perked up and smiled that award-winning back at her.

Joan looked back at everyone, her voice wavering. She wasn’t even at the most nerve-wracking part. “I have- I have to be honest though, I have all the hope and ambition in the world. But when I think about the future, the truth is, I am really...scared.” Joan wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. “But you must always have faith in yourself because you will go far in that future… which is in your hands.” Joan took another deep breath.

“Congratulations, Class of 2008. We did it!” She shouted, and with that, she yanked her cap off her head and flung it in the air. The crowd erupted in cheering, and hundreds of blackcaps flew up in the air. Classmates hugged each other, and some cried, others laughed. Joan watched the excitement with a sense of dignity wash over her with a lopsided smile. Joan felt around her pocket, her heart beating more than it ever had before; she covered the mic and looked up at the blue sky.

“Are you there, God? It’s me, Joan.” Joan felt ridiculous already but kept going. “I know I don’t talk to you, but you know my mom… well, I am my mom. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but you’re supposed to understand everything, so…” Joan closed her eyes, feeling the summer wind blow through her hair. “That’s that– uhm– I’m about to do something big, so… make sure you don’t let me screw up or have anything bad happen.” Joan pulled out the box, clasping it tightly between her hands, then looked at her former classmates get up and start to leave. Joan leaned against the podium mic.

“Oh, um! If you could give me one second before we all go…”

Everyone stopped moving and darted their attention at Joan. JFK’s unbreakable gaze struck Joan’s heart like Cupid’s arrow (she fell in love all over again). Joan took one last deep breath… then quickly turned away from everyone. Joan moved her hand sequentially to the forehead, lower chest, and shoulders and nodded. She signed the cross. Something Joan taught herself to do when she was younger but never thought she’d do again.

Joan turned back and faced the crowd. ‘Here goes everything…’ Joan’s thought echoed in her mind

Joan stepped out behind the podium and slowly but surely made her way over to JFK, who looked at her curiously.

Joan took JFK’s and pulled him to the center of the field. Not one moment did she take her eyes off him.

Then Joan stopped. People whispered and glanced at each other, then at the young woman. Cleo had her camera out, grinning wildly while Abe and Gandhi watched, on the edge of their seats.

“John F. Kennedy, please make me the happiest woman I know.”

Joan got down on one knee; a genuine smile grew on her face. Joan opened the box.

A gasp caught JFK’s breath.

There was a ring.

Now everyone was gasping, shuffling in their seats, and talking. Joan stayed in the pose, wondering if what she was doing was wrong, chuck the ring into the fiery sun, run away and change her name. Those sounded like fantastic ideas, but a voice sliced through the crowd’s commotion, and Joan’s amuck thoughts.

JFK stood there, feeling like he was on the verge of a minor heart attack: dizzy, hot, mouth dry, pulse-pounding. He was goggling at the shiny object revealed to him; he didn’t completely register the question/declaration of everlasting love. “Oh my god! I uh do! Wait...I er uh mean, yes!” JFK nodded, covering his mouth, and began to sob. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Joan’s eyes widened, and she stood up, tears developing in the corners of her eyes; she couldn’t help but grin and break down crying. Joan threw herself into JFK’s embrace, wrapping her arms around JFK’s shoulders as JFK wrapped his hands around Joan’s waist and kissed her. Jack could feel her smile against his lips (she tasted like cherry chapstick, which was always a plus). A few people in the audience cheered and clapped while some were being pushed out by (a crying?) Scudworth.

JFK pulled away from her. “I always wanted to do that.” JFK moved a lock of Joan’s hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “But you uh probably did it better,” Joan smirked. “Probably? Well, I’m not one to do what’s expected.” JFK let out a loud laugh and then proceeded to repeatedly peck her nose, cheek, and eyelids, causing Joan to squeal and squirm in his arms; she playfully banged on his chest for him to release her. No avail.

“Uh, If you could stop trying to eat the valedictorian’s face off so I can get a picture of you two, that’d be great.” Cleo held up her camera. JFK and Joan rolled their eyes in unison and pulled away from each other. Before they could do anything else, Gandhi catapulted himself onto Joan’s back and screamed in her ear: “OH MY GOD! JOAN, YOU’RE CRAZY MAN! CONGRATS!” Joan winced, wiggling her shoulders, and Gandhi slid off her “Thanks, Gandhi.” Joan kneeled down, pulling him into a hug. Abe stood shyly beside JFK and threw a friendly yet clumsy punch at JFK’s shoulder. “Major props JFK-Dawg.” He croaked. JFK grinned and wrapped his arm around Abe’s shoulder tightly, leaving the scrawny male wheezing for air.

“I waited long enough for Joan to pop the question to your sorry ass, so I don’t want to wait longer to take a picture of you two.” Cleo huffed, dragging JFK by his gown sleeve, and thrust him next to his future bride. “Wait. Back up, You uh knew she was going to propose to me?” JFK raised an eyebrow. Cleo pulled out her eyeliner pencil and began drawing a perfect curve on Joan’s eyelid and which Joan blenched, “Duh! We live together. She was talking to herself while cleaning her side of the toom, and I walked into her explaining the plan to her vampire bat plushie– Joan don’t fucking move.” Joan hissed in protest and stuck her tongue out. “And you didnt bother telling us?” Gandhi frowned. “What he said!” Abe nodded in agreement. “Of course not.” Joan scoffed, “You and your big mouth that you can never shut up?” Joan shook her head. “One slip up and the surprise is ruined.” Gandhi sucked his teeth. “Fine! But I except the title of best man in the future as compensation.”

Cleo whipped out her camera, wearing her serious cameraman face. “Okay...”

Joan pulled out JFK’s ring from the box. JFK stuck out his left ring finger and wiggled it as Joan slipped it on and then pulled out her own and slipped it on her left-hand ring finger. Joan and JFK locked eyes, sticking their hands out for Cleo to snapshot. One click and flash, Joan let out a sigh. “God, I feel like those grown-ups I used to bully on MySpace back in high school showing off their wedding rings… now I’m one of those grown-ups showing off their wedding rings.” JFK shrugged, and he bumped his shoulder against hers. “You’re cooler than those grown-ups.” Joan smiled at him. “Yeah. We both are.”

Joan and JFK stood side by side, sweating in the June sun as they watched everyone walk off the field into the cars. The three walked to Cleo’s car, peeking over their shoulder at the couple. “We’ll leave the newly fiancé and fiancée alone,” Cleo announced with a wave. “We’ll be in the car waiting for you guys.” Abe noted, “We’re going to The Grassy Knoll!” Gandhi cheered.

JFK looked at Joan. A shit-eating grin crept on his face as he placed one arm around Joan’s back and the other arm around the bend in her knees. Cradling her bridal style. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?” Joan exclaimed (with a hint of shocked laughter), “I’m crazy in love with you!” JFK proclaimed, to which Joan shook her head, “Corny ass.” Joan reached for his gown collar and kissed him (only for a split second, JFK couldn’t appreciate it, to his disappointment). “Yeah, but I’m your corny ass!” JFK sang. Joan held up her hand, pointing to her ring.

“And I to you.”

Forever and ever

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