8
A few days passed after posting the MySpace comment, with no word from Liam. I was getting nervous. What if he thinks I am a stalker, a freak? I relaxed when the unread message highlighted my Inbox—Liam sent me another message:
November 26, 2005 6:56 PM
Subject: Thank You!
Body:
Hi Sophie,
I read your comment, thank you for your kindness :)
Time just FLEW by (you know, with Thanksgiving and all). Also, I’ve been in the mood to bake some banana bread…do you like banana bread? I’ll bake extra for you if you do! Or we can bake some together, and I’ll share my top-secret recipe with you (and I won’t even have to kill you, consider yourself lucky). I have some good news as well…UCSD readmitted me! I’m back! I’ll see you there Winter Quarter, I’m sure…we will need to hang out and “act cool” on campus.
-Liam
P.S. my number 619-352-5487, so you don’t always have to use MySpace as a means of communication. Feel free to call anytime.
I froze. He gave me his number…voluntarily? After reading the message for the sixth time I realized I might be going on a potential date, I would be seeing him in school, he was grateful for my comment, he gave me his number, and he wanted to see me again.
Wow. I felt like I was on cloud nine. I contemplated calling him, but I didn’t know what to say. I was getting antsy…I really wanted to hear his voice. I can’t believe I am already smitten with this guy, a guy that I barely know.
Am I this easy? I had to be careful…I could get hurt…I couldn’t lie to myself; I was already in it too deep. Would we go on a date? No, I couldn’t. Finals were approaching and I had to focus on that. Breathe. My head was swimming with questions. Don’t make it into a bigger deal than it is. Liam is probably just a nice guy who wants another friend.
I decided to be safe and message him back with my phone number:
November 26, 2005 7:44 PM
Subject: RE: Thank You!
Body:
Hi Liam,
Yea, I understand. Congrats on getting readmitted!
Finals is coming up so I’ve been cramming for that.
Banana bread is great, I would love to learn your top-secret recipe.
My number is 858-425-1256.
-Sophie
I rewrote this message so many times before I hit Send. I wonder if I should’ve said more. No, short and concise is better. Ugh, I’m so bad at this.
9
Walking out of my last final exam felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t care that a few of the questions went over my head, or that I was sleep deprived and unsightly. At this moment I felt happy. I changed.
I felt like I finally learned this quarter, focused on my priorities. Overeating was still an issue at times, but I actually felt good about the way I looked and felt. I think I just needed to realize that I wasn’t perfect and didn’t need to be. As long as I was happy and content with myself, I would be fine. It was a mundane concept—one even a Kindergartener could have understood—but it took me twenty-one years to realize it.
My entire life, I tried to mold myself into the person I thought I should be—perfect daughter, perfect student, perfect person—and I lost my way in the process. I was overcome with depression, sullen and internally suffering from my own insecurities, my false perceptions of the world and of myself. I was my harshest and only critic and I was unable to cope with the fact I could never be perfect. What I believed to be perfect may not have been perfect after all.
I did not need to be the smartest person. I did not need to make exorbitant amounts of money. I did not need to be a social butterfly and be popular. I did not need to be model-thin or Jessica-Alba-beautiful. I did not need to be anything but me.
My definition of being perfect would be if I could be happy with what I have and what I have to offer, without having to change anything about me. At that moment I felt an overwhelming surge of energy, like I could run an entire marathon in one healthy breath. I realized that being unique makes someone special and interesting. No one can be perfect, nor can anyone be loved by all. The one goal I had for myself was to be HAPPY and healthy. I finally wanted to live in this world—not just exist in it.
10
December 12, 2005 9:29 PM
Subject: Yay! Finals Are Over!
Body:
Hi Sophie,
Take a deep breath (bring in the love, push out the jive), because finals are over! Hooray! I hope they went well for you, stressful as they may be.
I’ll give you a call in the next couple of days, maybe we can get together this weekend.
Talk to you soon,
Liam
My heart fluttered again and my palms started to tingle. Why do his messages always get to me like this…make me feel anxious, but in a good way? He hasn’t forgotten about me and he still wants to hang out? Now what does this mean? What should I do? Should I just wait for his call? I muddled through all my juvenile questions and decided it was best to wait. Just wait.
Wednesday came and went. So did Thursday. If he wasn’t going to call, then what did his message mean? Does this mean he already had plans this weekend and just forgot…or maybe his “couple days” actually is code for “never in this lifetime”? Sigh, why am I getting worked up over this. Stupid. Wait. Is that my phone?
My heartbeat accelerated. I ran toward the plain, old-school ringtone, tripping over my feet as I went. It was Liam. I felt heat rush through my body. At that moment, the only thing running through my mind was that he called. Liam called.
~ Liam ~
11
“Hi,” her quiet voice wavered as it warmed mine.
“Hi, Sophie? This is Liam.”
“Hi, Liam.”
I could feel the sweat rolling down my back and face, my heart beating fast.
“So…I was wondering if you had plans this weekend, or if you did, do you have anything going on later today?” Talking faster now, “Because, maybe we can meet up for coffee…or something.” Geez, I couldn’t be more of a rambling idiot.
“Um…”
Great. She’s going to turn me down. Of course she probably has plans today or this week. Coffee? Idiot. She probably has lots of guys asking her out to fancy dinners or a movie or a picnic on the beach…
“I’m free later. Coffee sounds good.”
Really? Excitement was building inside me. I can’t believe she…Liam, focus. Think. Where’s a place we can meet that’s near her place?
I hadn’t actually thought through my plan—although I’d been thinking about what to say for the past few days now; always picking up the phone but too nervous to dial the numbers, the numbers that now are forever engraved in my memory bank. I never dreamed she’d actually agree to go out with me.
“We can meet at the Coffee Bean up the street from where you live. Uh…let’s say three-thirty?”
“Yea, I know where that is. Perfect. I’ll see you there at three-thirty.”
“Great. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Click.
I let out a slow, deep breath. Sophie said yes. She actually said yes. This went much better than I expected. I had psyched myself out, ready for rejection (or at least delay and hesitation). I was no longer sure why I waited so long to call. Oh yeah, Finals Week. I wanted her to be able to focus on her final exams—a convincing rationale to hide my sheer cowardice.
I was starting to forget what she looked like, but I hadn’t forgotten how she made me feel. Ha. I can’t believe I wasn’t even gonna go to Tiff’s party. Parties like Tiff’s always made me feel uncomfortable and out of sorts, especially when attending sober. Sophie definitely made it worthwhile.
I made a mental note to thank Justin for urging me to go. He’d been trying to get me out of my funk (i.e., get me laid—to him, getting laid solved everything) for a while now…ever since that disastrous trip to TJ…ugh. Quickly I thought back to Sophie, letting the grizzly memory dissi
pate into the darkness.
Sophie was different. Her smile. Her smile lifted my spirits when she tasted my dark chocolate cream puff. I grinned. She didn’t even touch the white chocolate ones. I’ll have to make a mental note of that. She also seemed a bit shy and slightly uncomfortable that night. I noticed she stayed off to the side most of the time. She almost caught me staring at her…I hope she didn’t notice.
Her almond shaped eyes, tinted in rich brown, unnerved me as they seemed to uncover all my hidden secrets. Her heart-shaped lips, high cheekbones, and short chin highlighted her femininity. Her midnight-black hair glistened against her golden complexion, and when she bent over to adjust the straps on her shoes I caught the gentle swell of her breasts. I was slightly ashamed that I even looked, but hell I’m a guy, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice. She’s a knockout, that’s for sure.
12
Excitement and nervous energy were building inside me as I got ready for the date.
“Dad, I’m heading out.”
“Okay, Bud.”
I could feel his questions mounting as he watched my erratic behavior over the past hour. At that moment, I was glad he was not one of those parents who nags and wheedles all the information out of you. I needed to stay calm, or at least create the illusion of calm.
Driving to the Coffee Bean, I stared at the dashboard clock nearly as much as the road ahead. I parked within site of the café, giving the dashboard one last glance before I killed the engine—it was 3:25 P.M. Good. It’ll give me just enough time to get a table and collect my thoughts before she arrives. Walking in, my heart stopped; my hands turned ice cold. Sophie was already sitting at a side table, a coffee cup in her hand, lost in her thoughts.
She was early. She looked up, her eyes sparkled, there was a slight crinkle at the bridge of her nose, and her glossy lips slowly curved into a smile. She was beautiful.
“Hi, Sophie.” I leaned over to give her a hug. I felt her slight hesitation before she responded back.
“Hi.”
“You’re already here.”
“Yea, I decided to walk over since it was so close.”
“You already got a drink?”
She nodded.
“Oh, I was going to buy you something...,” I mumbled, trying to calm my nerves, “Um, let me get a drink and then we can hang out. Did you want anything else?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Okay.” I ordered a large house coffee and we went over to the side table.
A breeze kicked in as an old man strolled in, sporting a pale yellow polo shirt, matching trousers, and a bright teal fanny pack. Looking up, once I got over the startling sight of the fanny pack, I noticed an empty table right outside the door. “Maybe we should sit outside. It’s such a nice day out.”
“Sure.”
There was slight chill in the air, but it was sunny and the crisp breeze felt refreshing. I thought I was about to suffocate inside.
Sophie had her eyes on her coffee as she sipped slowly, like she was calculating her sips—one sip, two sips, three sips—lost in thought. I wonder what she’s thinking about? Hopefully she’s not regretting coming. Maybe she’s trying to think of an escape? I cleared my throat.
“So, how were finals?”
“Difficult…I’m just glad they’re over.”
“Well, I’m actually looking forward to finals.”
Shock and curiosity filled her eyes. She cocked her head to the side. “Really?”
Horrified that I showcased my “nerdiness” too early, I backpedaled, scrambling to collect my thoughts. “Um, yeah. I mean, you know, after being out of the loop for a few years, it’ll be nice to get back into the swing of things. I’m just glad to have a second chance.”
She perked up, “Hmm. That’s good.” She seemed to be contemplating something. “You said you wanted to study…botany, right?”
Her recollection calmed me. My death grip loosened just in time, before the coffee cup surrendered to my nervous tension. She remembered.
“Yes, that’s right. I’ve always been fascinated with plants, especially bonsai. There’s just something peaceful about them, like you’re meditating while pruning and shaping them. But honestly, I pretty much just picked it out of a hat.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I was tired of being unsure. My first time around, I started with a math major and then I changed to engineering, and then pre-med, and then econ…I was getting nowhere, so I dropped out. Looking back, I probably shouldn’t have done that…but I was kind of lost.”
“I understand.” She sounded sincere. “At least now you seem pretty confident about what you want to pursue and if you’re interested, you’ll probably do really well.”
“I hope so.” I didn’t really want to talk about my delay in education, but she seemed to be taking it in stride. Or she’s just trying to be nice. Either way, it was pleasing just to hear her soft voice.
“So, do you have any sisters or brothers?”
“No, I’m an only child. You?”
“I have an older sister, Emily.”
“What’s she like?”
I hesitated. “Well, she’s outgoing, stubborn, and loves life. She’s traveling with her boyfriend, Dan.”
Sophie caught the hitch in my voice when I mentioned Dan. “And you don’t like him.”
“No, I don’t. He’s not good for her. He convinced her to run away with him after my parents split, when she was still just seventeen.”
“Oh. That must be hard on your parents.”
I shrugged. “I guess. I haven’t really seen my mom since the divorce, either. Emily and Mom are similar. They ran away from all the stress and tension and went to go ‘find themselves.’”
“What about your dad?”
“I’m like him. We’re introverted. He keeps to himself mostly. I feel bad for him. Everything was taken away from him…anyways, I live with him now to save money.”
She nodded, taking another careful sip of her coffee.
I wonder how much I should say. I probably told her way too much already. I sure hope this doesn’t scare her off. There was something about her that made me want to spill my entire life story.
“How is it, living with your dad?”
“It’s good. We have more of a friendship relationship than a true Father-and-Son relationship. He pretty much leaves me alone and I go and come as I please.”
“Oh.” She contemplated this. “That’s kind of good I guess. I would probably live with my parents, too, if I lived so close to school. But that would be hard. My parents would worry about me if I was out too late or something.”
“That’s nice. Sometimes I wish I had that.”
“Yea, sometimes,” she mused. “They really are wonderful.” Her face shined when she mentioned her parents, and then she smiled. This smile was different from the rest; it was natural, full of overwhelming love and happiness. Her shimmering eyes met mine, and at that moment, I fell in love. I couldn’t believe it. What I felt at that moment took me by surprise. Could I love someone this soon? I didn’t even know her.
The rest of the afternoon passed by, filled with the same ease of conversation. I asked questions and she answered them. She asked questions, and then I answered. We talked for hours. We probably could’ve talked forever if it weren’t for the biting cold. It was almost eight o’clock by the time the conversation subsided; we sat quietly, smiling at each other. The sun had already set a couple hours ago, and the breeze intensified. I noticed her shiver at the larger gusts, but I didn’t want this day to end. I was feeling selfish and I had pressed on until it was simply too cold to continue. She never said a word about the temperature.
“Do you want a ride back to your place?”
She hesitated, “Um, yea, that’ll be great. Thanks.”
I led her to my Volvo and was relieved that I had the foresight to clean it out. When I opened her door, she seemed genuinely surprised. I started the car, cranked up the heater a
s it idled, and pulled away from the parking lot. Dusty-smelling warmth began to seep out of the vents, soaking into our chilled bodies in calming waves.
I wished the drive was longer, but I started to get nervous again. Should I kiss her good night? I glanced at her. Sophie was sitting quietly, looking straight ahead, her small, soft hands resting on her lap. No, not tonight.
I walked her to the front door and we hugged goodbye. A part of me wished she would invite me in. It was only eight o’clock on a Friday night. We could have talked more, or listened to music or something. All I know at this moment is I do love her, and I will do anything she wants or needs me to do so I can be a part of her life…even if she just wants to be friends.
13
I paced back and forth across my room. When that didn’t help, I landed face-up on my bed and tossed a baseball toward the ceiling. I focused on the ball, trying to throw it up to the same yellow speck on the ceiling (never try juggling Hi-Liter markers without making sure the caps are on tight). I was stalling. I wanted to call Sophie right when I got home, but I didn’t want to seem creepy. So I bided my time.
I actually asked Justin for his opinion. He was thrilled when I told him that I liked Sophie. He also told me that I should wait a few days before calling her—probably something he picked up on an episode of The Simpsons or found in one of those dating for dummies handbooks. Play it cool. At the time I thought he was right, but it just wasn’t me. So, I called.
Sophie's Smile: A Novel Page 8
