She tamed my hair again. “Okay then. I'll be right across the hall if you need me.” She stood up and moved to leave.
“Evie?” I said, stopping her in the doorway.
“Yes?” she replied, facing me again.
I stared out the window, watching the branches of the tree continue to scrape against it. “Am I … different?”
A large smile broke out on Eve's face, and I felt her warmth seep into my heart. “Yes, Soph, you are. You're the best kind of different there is.” She gave me a wink, and then she was gone.
I walked over to the window and stared out of it. Storm clouds had gathered overhead, and a brisk rain was falling. I was thankful to be inside where it was warm and dry, but my heart was still heavy.
Mom once told me that when you're a kid, there are many moments that shape the kind of person you are, the kind of person you're going to be for the rest of your life. The thing is, you don't usually recognize those moments until long after they've passed. It's rare that you can appreciate such a moment while you're living it.
I'd just had such a moment.
For the first time all day, I smiled.
I'm Sophie Devereaux, and I'm different. And that is a good thing.
Goodbye, Logan. And thank you.
Chapter 1
~ Day 1 (Mon.) ~
SOPHIE
Sitting on the floor of my closet, my mind was in turmoil as I screamed into my pillow.
You've GOT to be kidding me. What did I do to deserve today? I mean, WHAT?!
I'm a good person. I've always been a good person. In elementary school, I was the girl who always had a smile on her face. I would hug people I barely knew, and I didn't hate boys just because they were … well, boys. My mom always said it was because I had a “huge heart”; something that ran in my family, apparently, because my sisters Eve and Kirsten had always been the same way. Most sisters fought like cats and dogs, but it wasn't that way with us.
Eve and Kirsten had always been pretty. I, however, really wasn't. I still wore geeky-looking wire-framed glasses, just like I'd done since first grade. For the most part, I also avoided wearing makeup and jewelry, and I wasn't one of those girls who put tons of time into making her hair perfect. I stopped wearing it in a ponytail last year, and now it just shot down from my scalp in a straight, boring line. Most of the girls in my class went that extra mile to look good for boys, but I just didn't see the point to it, looking like I did. I'd always had a full-length mirror in my bedroom, but the older I got, the more I avoided looking at myself in it. Unless, of course, I was singing.
I'd always loved singing. I'd spent countless hours in my room, singing songs into my hairbrush and pretending I was a pop star or something. From the time I was able to watch movies, I knew every song from pretty much every Disney movie ever made. Every second of the day, I had a song to match my mood. Unfortunately, my love for music was matched only by my complete and utter inability to sing. No matter how hard I tried to make beautiful sounds come out of my mouth, my vocal cords just wouldn't cooperate. By now, I figured it was a lost cause.
Sometimes I couldn't help it, though, and my desire to sing became almost uncontrollable. To compensate, I would hum along with the songs in my head. It was a compromise to keep me sane. I always tried to be mindful of who was around when this desire threatened to overtake me, but there were plenty of times that I'd turn around to see the 'oh-my-God-she's-so-weird' expressions on my classmates' faces, and I would try not to drop dead from embarrassment.
I was really looking forward to beginning my final year at James Madison Middle School. I just turned thirteen, and for the first time in my life, I was going to school unaccompanied. It was always me and Kirsten before, but now that she was starting her freshman year at Centralia High School, I was on my own.
Something happened to me a few days ago, however. Instead of the anticipation and excitement I usually felt when kicking off a new school year, I felt … cranky. Moody. I stupidly thought some internal switch had been thrown inside me, like my thirteenth birthday had triggered something inside my body, maybe that thing that makes teenagers depressed and awkward and angsty all the time. I think deep down I knew what it really was, but I simply couldn't believe God or Mother Nature or whatever would coincide THIS with my first day of eighth grade.
Shows what I know.
* * *
I didn't mind that my first-period class was Phys Ed. I was never really much into sports, but thankfully most of my coaches over the years found a way to make athletics fun. I'd gotten pretty good at things like basketball and softball, and I even enjoyed running, so starting my daily routine off with a light workout didn't worry me at all. Of course, if I'd had a crystal ball when I climbed out of bed this morning, I'd have faked a heart attack or a seizure or something. Anything would've been better than what actually happened.
The first thing the girls' P.E. instructor, Coach Randall, did was make everyone change into their athletic clothes. I was thankful I wasn't one of the nearly one-third of the class that forgot to bring a change of attire, who had to run laps around the huge playground in their blue jeans, sweaters and hip designer clothes. Because, yes, that was the second thing Coach had us do, run laps. I was in decent shape, so I wasn't worried about running out of energy.
I stopped at one of the playground's drinking fountains to quench my thirst. After taking a few gulps of cold water, I looked up to see my friend Michelle, who'd been jogging a few yards behind me. She wasn't even the least bit winded, which made me a little jealous. “Hey, Soph,” she said.
“Hey, Shell,” I replied, still catching my breath.
As I watched, I saw her mouth fall open and her eyes go wide. And then she gulped.
“What is it?” I asked, dread rising in my stomach.
Suddenly unable to speak, she slowly raised her finger, pointing at my legs.
Looking down, I saw what had caused her moment of panic. It wasn't my legs she was pointing at, it was my white gym shorts, which now had a few red spots dotting the crotch area.
I don't think I'd ever been so mortified in my life. It was all I could do not to scream my lungs out.
My God. I'm having my period. My first EVER. And it just had to happen NOW, on the first day of eighth grade. In front of the whole freaking school!
I shuffle-stepped as fast as I could across the field to where Coach was standing. Thankfully, she kept a small supply of feminine products handy in her office for just such emergencies. I changed back into my school clothes in the locker room, and did my best to keep a low profile for the rest of the day, praying the worst was over.
So, so wrong.
* * *
As I set my lunch-tray down on my usual table in the cafeteria, I found myself praying for some form of disaster: blizzard, asteroid collision, zombie apocalypse. Anything that would force the school to shut down and end my horrible day. I took my seat, pushed the tray aside and moaned quietly while banging my forehead, softly and repeatedly, against the table. I couldn't remember ever being this miserable, and the day was only half over.
After a few moments, I lifted my head and saw my two best friends, Marissa and Michelle, staring at me. I was glad they were there. There were no two people on earth I would trust, outside my family, to help me deal with this catastrophe.
Marissa Ramos and I went all the way back to kindergarten. She was a few inches shorter than I was, with dark skin, dark frizzy hair pulled back into a ponytail, big brown eyes, and a manic obsession with polka dots. She adored them. It was like she thought the Polka Dot Fairy would appear and strike her dead if she left the house wearing only solid colors. But even though her wardrobe usually induced eye-rolls and snickers from the girls in my class, it didn't make me like her any less. She was one of the kindest, most genuine people I knew, and I couldn't imagine having a best friend other than her.
“Bad day?” she asked.
I scrunched up my face and nodded.
“Jee
z, Soph, you look scary.”
“Thanks, Riss. Believe me, I feel much worse than I look.”
“Yeah, the first time's never fun, is it, Shell?”
Michelle shook her head. “No, it isn't. I'm so glad I got mine over with in the sixth grade.”
“Huh,” I muttered, “I bet when it happened to you, it wasn't broadcast all over the school.”
Marissa leaned back in alarm. “What do you mean?”
“Before fourth period, I went to my locker to get my science textbook. Someone had scotch-taped a bunch of tampons to it.”
Michelle looked shocked. “Wow, news travels fast.”
Michelle Jameson was tall and gangly, sporting huge eyeglasses and a mouthful of braces. She was a vegetarian, the daughter of two certified, card-carrying hippies who owned and ran a very successful organic garden. She was also the smartest girl in our class. She'd always been relentlessly teased for her looks, but she never seemed to let it bother her. She totally owned her awkwardness, which was often punctuated by the really bad jokes she unexpectedly injected into conversations. I loved her to death.
“You didn't tell anyone else besides Riss, did you?” I asked.
“Of course not, Soph! What do you think of me?”
“Well then, how does everybody know about my freaking period?”
“Not from me, I swear!” She gave a half-smile. “Although you have to admit, it's kinda funny …”
“What's funny?” I asked, not a single trace of humor in my voice.
“You getting your first period during first period.”
I groaned, and Marissa punched Michelle in the arm.
“Ow! Riss, that hurt!”
“Shell, now is not the time for stupid jokes, okay?” She glared at her.
Michelle's face fell. “Sorry, Soph. Just trying to cheer you up.”
I turned and saw several other girls staring at me from a few tables away. The popular girls' clique. The whole Coven was there: Rhianna Kosto, Kayla Fanning, Lacey Ratface with the stud in her nose. And, of course, Alexis. Beautiful, glamorous Alexis, looking at me with pure contempt. Quickly, I averted my gaze.
Marissa had seen it too. “Um … why does Alexis look like she wants to kill you?”
I took a small bite of my now-room-temperature chicken-fried steak. “Because I got paired with Drew Seeley in fourth-period Science class. He's my lab partner.”
Michelle's jaw dropped open. “Seriously? That guy is sooooo hot! You are so lucky!”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, yeah, I'm sooooo lucky. Paired with a hot guy who doesn't even know I exist, who just happens to be the boyfriend of the most popular girl in school. I barely said two words to him the entire class. And as if it wasn't enough that Rhianna and Kayla were staring at me the whole time, Alexis just threatened me in the lunch-line a few minutes ago.”
“Oh, damn,” said Marissa. “I'm sorry, Soph.”
I just grunted, taking another tasteless bite.
“What'd she say?”
I sighed. “She said, 'Remember your place, loser.' Then she reminded me Drew was her boyfriend and I'm not even allowed to look at him.”
Michelle gawked at me. “Well, holy smokes, Soph, you're lab partners. That's kind of an unreasonable thing to ask, isn't it?”
I rubbed my suddenly-aching temple. “Since when has Alexis Metcalf ever been reasonable?”
“Good point.”
“What classes have you got left today?” Marissa asked, thankfully changing the subject.
“English Comp with Mr. Chambers, and Social Studies with Mr. Havlicek.”
She brightened. “Oh, cool, me too! We can be desk buddies!”
In spite of my foul mood, I had to smile. Riss could be such a dork sometimes. “ 'Desk buddies?' What are we, in the second grade again?”
She made a hurt face that was almost comical.
“Ahh, come on, Riss,” I said, smiling. “Desk buddies sounds great. At least I can be sure my day's not going to get worse.”
Without warning, something small and round fell with a splat onto our table. I'd barely registered its appearance when the balloon burst open, showering the three of us with a watery red substance that splattered all over our faces, clothes and lunches. A ketchup bomb.
I instantly grabbed a napkin and was wiping the gunk off my glasses when I heard peals of laughter coming from my classmates. I'd just put them back on when I heard a familiar voice shout, “Looks good on you, loser! Now your shirt matches your gym shorts!” I turned to see Alexis smiling and cackling, along with the rest of the Coven, save one.
While all our classmates delighted in our humiliation, Kayla sat, staring at us with a different look altogether. I didn't know her at all, and I couldn't see her clearly because of the ketchup smears on my glasses, but I could swear it looked like … well, I didn't know what it was, and I didn't much care.
Michelle, meanwhile, was furious. She wasn't a violent person; in fact, in the year Marissa and I had known her, I could count the number of times I'd seen her angry on one hand. But at the moment, she looked like she wanted to go over and slap the makeup off of Alexis's face. “The day can't get any worse, huh, Sophie?” she said, trying in vain to keep the ketchup from staining her shirt.
I couldn't even respond. I stared at Riss, then at Shell, and then at the hordes of classmates still laughing their butts off.
Somebody, please, just shoot me now.
* * *
When I got home at 4:30, the first thing I did was run straight to my room, change into a clean T-shirt and shorts, and toss my dirty clothes, all of which had some form of red stain on them, into the hamper. Even though I got to spend fifth and sixth periods sitting next to Marissa, I still had to deal with the snickers and stupid grins on the faces of most of my classmates. By the time I got home, I was ready to explode.
So after changing, I grabbed a pillow from my bed, shut myself in my closet, sat down on the floor and screamed into the pillow as loudly as I could. Never, never in my life had I had a day like today. This morning, I was ready to start the next chapter in my life. And now, I was the laughingstock of the whole school. I'd been humiliated, threatened, and humiliated again. And on top of that, I'd just gotten my first period.
After a few minutes of sobbing and muffled screaming and wondering if thirteen was too young to become a monk, I exited my closet to find Kirsten sitting on my bed, staring at me.
“Feel better?” she asked.
I looked at her amazing face, her sharp, intelligent brown eyes, framed by her gorgeous head of long, wavy brown hair. There were many times in my life that I valued having a sister close to my own age, and now that Eve was down in Tucson beginning her sophomore year of college, I valued Kirsten even more. That didn't mean, however, that I wanted to talk about my disastrous day.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” I said flatly. “I was just, um …” Taking my pillow into the closet. Yeahhhh …
“Sophie, you should be relieved,” she said before I could even come up with a lame excuse. “The wait is over.”
Of course Kirsten knew what was going on. She could always read me like a book. “How'd you know?”
She walked up to me. “Soph, it's okay. It took me by surprise too.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head on her shoulder. She just put her arms around my head and held me close. My sister knew what I needed. I didn't have to say a word. One of the benefits of being a family of huggers.
“You won't believe the day I've had,” I said, sniffling.
After a few seconds, she sat me down on my bed and took my hand. “Well, then, you'd better tell me all about it.”
I scrunched up my face. “Ugh. Do I have to?”
She smiled. “Unless you'd rather hear about my day. I did meet this supremely hot guy …”
“Kirsten, I'm really not …”
“His name's Duncan, and he's really cool, and he actually said he might ask me out! I'm telling you, Soph, you'
d have to see this guy to …”
“Okay, okay!” I threw my hands up. “Enough! If I tell you about my day from hell, will you leave me alone?”
“Deal.” She released my hand. “Just make it quick, okay? I have a lot of reading to do.”
I sighed. “Well, it started in first period, which truly lived up to its name …” I gave a slight smile, finally seeing the humor in Michelle's lame joke.
As I spelled out for Kirsten just how badly my eighth-grade experience had started, my thoughts began to drift. A queasy feeling was forming in the pit of my stomach.
Was today just me getting all the bad stuff out of the way early? Or was it the beginning of something worse?
Chapter 2
~ Day 3 (Wed.) ~
AYDEN
I could be a superhero.
Seriously, I could. If some godlike entity were to endow me with a superhuman ability, I could pull it off. And if life had any sense of fairness at all, it would be invisibility. That most closely suits my personality, anyway. Definitely invisibility, without a doubt. I, Ayden Saunders, would become Invisiboy, the kid that no one sees. I wouldn't even need a costume.
After years of being the class shrimp, I finally got my growth spurt a few months ago. Little by little, I was catching up to the a-holes who'd towered over me since sixth grade … or, at least, keeping pace. I could put up with being picked last for basketball and the larger boys always saying, “Oh, sorry, shorty, didn't see you there.” Not that I expected a few extra inches of height to make me more noticeable or less likely to get picked last for basketball. I was used to being the guy who got ignored at every turn. And that suited me, Invisiboy, just fine.
But I was very good at listening. Even though nobody told me anything, I knew a lot of stuff about a lot of people, stuff the principal would find very interesting. You pick your spots right, the best people to listen to, and the best times to listen, you can get dirt on just about anybody.
I'm only 5'3”, and not very well-built. I wear ordinary, unflashy clothes to school, I don't make eye contact, and nearly all the time, I wear my earbuds unless we're on the teachers' time. Thing is, those earbuds haven't worked in months, and are attached to an iPod that's never on. I can sit quietly at my desk or in the cafeteria or lean up against any wall in our school, and whoever's nearby just assumes I'm listening to music. All I have to do is bob my head, hum, or move my lips every now and then, and they're none the wiser. I usually don't even need to do that, because most of the time, no one notices me anyway.
Sophie's Different (James Madison Series Book 3) Page 2
