Sophie's Different (James Madison Series Book 3)

by Patrick Hodges

  I closed the final drawer with a bang, and as I did, I heard a faint sound that didn't belong. My brain tried to identify it: it sounded like a piece of wood being dislodged. Opening the middle drawer, I found a stack of manila folders. Most of them were empty, but a few contained what looked like some tax forms. Putting the folders on the desk, I could see clearly into the empty drawer. Strangely, it looked deeper from the outside than on the inside.

  Running my finger along the inside of the drawer, I found a thick piece of string. Giving it a pull, a thin slab of wood, made to look like the bottom of the drawer, lifted out, revealing a small stack of papers underneath.

  I flipped through the stack. Every page was a receipt from a place called “Big Doug's Self-Storage,” and it was located on the west side of town, in the city of Surprise. Remembering the conversation he'd had with his friend on the phone, the receipts provided another piece of the puzzle.

  I ran to my room and grabbed my cell phone. Whatever those receipts were, they had to be important. Returning to Ron's room, I switched my phone as well as Ron's ornate desk lamp on, and I used the Camera app to photograph the receipts. Then, as an afterthought, I backed up and took another photo of the desk itself.

  Once I finished, I put back the papers in the hidden compartment, replaced the false bottom, closed the drawer, and switched off the lamp. Backing up, I scanned the room one last time, satisfied that I'd completely covered my tracks before exiting. Unless Ron dusted for fingerprints, he'd never know I'd been there.

  But then I realized: if Ron ever got hold of my phone – and I wouldn't put it past him to steal it, like he did with my comics – he'd find the pictures I took.

  I ran back to my room and checked my alarm clock. Almost noon. That meant my friends were in the middle of recess period right now. Perfect.

  I dialed Sophie's number, and after a few rings, I heard her answer, “Ayden?”

  “Hey, Sophie,” I said, thankful to hear her voice.

  “Are you sick or something?”

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to sound urgent. “Listen, Sophie, I need your help.”

  “With what?”

  “I took some pictures just now. I'm gonna send them right to your phone. I need you to not tell anyone about this until I can talk to you about it. Can you do that?”

  “What kind of pictures?”

  “Just some papers. Please, Sophie, this is really important.”

  “Okay, go ahead.”

  I exhaled again, relieved. “Sending them now.” I tapped the buttons on my cell, sending each image to Sophie's number, seven in all. After sending the final picture, I asked, “Did you get them?”

  “Let me check.” There was a brief pause. “Yeah, I got 'em.”

  Victorious, I switched back to the Camera app and deleted all seven pictures, effectively erasing the last remaining evidence that I was ever in Ron's room. I did a mental fist-pump, and a wicked smile crept over my face. I'd done it.

  “Are you still there?” came Sophie's voice.

  “Yeah, I'm here. Thank you so much, Sophie. I promise I'll explain later.”

  “Looking forward to it. Hope you feel better.”

  “Me too. Tell Riss I said hi, okay?”

  “I will. I'll call you when the audition results are posted.”

  “Thanks. Bye.”

  “Bye,” she said, and I hit the End button.

  Standing up, I threw the phone on my desk and flopped back into bed. Searching the house had really sapped my strength, and now that I'd possibly found something I could use to nail Ron, I decided to take a victory nap.

  I am Invisiboy, I thought as I drifted off to sleep. And you are going DOWN, Mr. Merriweather.

  * * *

  I awoke again just before five. Neither Mom nor Ron had come home yet. My headache had disappeared, and my cough wasn't as bad as it was this morning, though my mouth felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls into it while I was sleeping. Just to be on the safe side, I swallowed another Tylenol and some more cough medicine – gack – as well as two large glasses of ice water.

  Still too tired to change out of my pajamas, I sat down on the sofa in the family room and turned on the TV. The five o' clock news was starting, and the top story was about the further investigations of a joint taskforce or something between the DEA and the police. My brain was still processing the possible ins and outs of Ron's criminal enterprise, so I was only half-listening, but the reporter mentioned that the taskforce was now searching for some mysterious individual named Jorge Castellano, and there was even a crude sketch of the man. He looked mean and tough, and he was not someone I ever wanted to meet in person, though I smiled at the thought of Ron sharing a jail cell with him someday.

  Finally, at just past six, Mom came home. She was happy to see me up and around, and confirmed my fever had indeed gone down. She brought home a green salad from work for herself, and a bowl of Romano's awesome minestrone for me. I was starving, so we sat right down and started eating.

  “So when's your next rehearsal?” Mom asked.

  “They're going to be after school on Wednesdays and Fridays for the next few weeks,” I said. “After that, I'll have to go practice on Saturdays, too. Is that okay?”

  “Of course it's okay.” Mom reached over and mussed my hair, which was already out of control after spending most of the day in bed. “You know, I used to do a bit of acting when I was younger.”

  I looked at her, and she was smiling. I smiled back. “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah. Back when I was in high school, I was Queen of the Drama Club.”

  “For real?” I was flabbergasted. “You never told me that!”

  “Well, it was a long time ago,” she said, staring at the far wall. “You should have seen me, kiddo. I brought the house down as Nellie Forbush in South Pacific, and there wasn't a dry eye in the place when I played Maria in West Side Story.”

  “Wow.” I drained the last few drops of soup from my bowl. “That's amazing. I guess now I know where I get my acting ability from.”

  “When are the performances?”

  I thought for a minute. “Let's see … we actually have three. We perform for the underclassman on the Tuesday right before Thanksgiving, and then for the upperclassmen on Wednesday. Families and friends get to see us perform on Saturday. Can you get that night off, Mom?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether I get to meet this Marissa girl you keep talking about.”

  My face turned about four shades of red. “She's … uh … just a friend, Mom,” I said, unable to keep the stutter from my voice.

  “Well, judging from that valentine from sixth grade that you still keep in your desk drawer, I'd say she's a lot more than that, sweetie. Am I right?”

  “Yeah, you're right.” I smiled weakly. “She's amazing, Mom. And she's beautiful. And I'm not just talking about her face. She's got a beautiful …” I trailed off, unable to find the right word.

  “Tushie?” She grinned.

  “Yeah,” I said, and then realized I'd just confirmed what I'd been thinking about. And boom, all the blood rushed back to my face again. “No, Mom! Sheesh! I was gonna say she has a beautiful heart!”

  “Yeah, sure, beautiful heart,” she said, still grinning. “And now I really can't wait to meet her.”

  Thankfully, I was saved any further embarrassment by a knock on the door. Mom looked at me curiously. “You expecting someone?”

  “No. Are you?”

  “Nope. It can't be Ron, he wouldn't need to knock. I'll be right back.”

  She got up and walked toward the front door. A few moments later, I heard her talking to whoever it was, but I couldn't make out any words. Finally, Mom reappeared in the kitchen, and was shocked to see Sophie following her.

  “Sophie!” I yelled in surprise, springing to my feet. “What –”

  “I tried to call you earlier, but it went straight to voicemail,” she said, out of brea
th. “I even tried texting you. I didn't know your home phone number, so I borrowed Kirsten's bike and rode over.”

  Oh, man, the results. I totally forgot. “Yeah, I was gonna call you, but I fell asleep.”

  She nodded. “I don't have a lot of time. Michelle's mom is taking the group to Cap'n Hook's in about an hour. It's gonna suck not having you there.” She paused, looking me over from head to toe. “Nice pajamas.”

  Suddenly, I was terribly embarrassed to be standing in front of a girl my age in my jammies, but I was also thankful I'd outgrown the last pair I owned before my growth spurt. I'd never live down having Sophie see me in SpongeBob pajamas.

  “Uh, thanks. So what's the news? Did Mr. Danbury post the results?”

  “He did.”

  I felt my mouth go dry again. “And?”

  “Well, Siobhan is playing Captain Hook –”

  “What a shocker,” I interrupted, smiling.

  She continued, “Rebecca Mack got Tinkerbell, and Marissa got Tiger Lily.”

  “Really?” I asked, sorry to have missed the big moment with Marissa. I did the math in my head. “That means … you got …” A smile broke onto my face, and it spread from ear to ear.

  An equally large smile erupted on Sophie's face. “Yeah. I'm Wendy.”

  Without even thinking about it, I ran forward and hugged her tight. Two seconds later, I remembered not only was I still in my pajamas, but my mother was watching only a few yards away, and I broke the hug just as quickly. Even though my face went bright red again, I couldn't contain my pride. “That's so, so awesome, Sophie. I knew you could do it. So who am I playing?”

  I waited for her to respond, but she didn't. She just stared at me intently. Her smile morphed into a sly smirk, and I realized she was asking me to figure it out on my own. My mind raced, and suddenly a lightbulb came on. “No …” I said, shaking my head.

  “Yes, Ayden.” She glanced back and forth between me and Mom.

  “What?” Mom asked, unable to remain silent any longer. “What happened?”

  My heart began to pound, and I could feel tears forcing their way to my eyes. I wanted to cry, to laugh, and it came out at the same time in a breathless pant. I covered my mouth with my hands, but my eyes never left Sophie's.

  My next words were barely a whisper, but in the quiet of our kitchen, they resounded with the force of a bullhorn. “I'm … Peter. I'm gonna be Peter Pan.” Sophie threw her arms around me in one of the most amazing hugs I'd ever received. Mom, equally overcome, wrapped her arms around both of us, and I could hear her choking back sobs herself.

  I couldn't contain my emotions any more. I reared back my head, balled up my fists and screamed, “Yeah!” with every ounce of power my lungs had.

  Sharing my elation, Sophie Devereaux, my incredible friend, leaned back and screamed out a long, loud “Yeah!” of her own. And finally, not wanting to be left out, so did Mom. We just stood there in the kitchen, howling with sheer joy.

  I am NEVER going back to the shadows again. Ever.

  Chapter 20

  ~ Day 50 (Mon.) ~

  SOPHIE

  At the start of the school year, it felt weird being the last person to leave the house. I always had Kirsten to go to school with – that is, except for fourth grade, when I was finishing elementary school and she was just starting middle school, but even then Kirsten would still walk me to the bus stop. Mom and Dad always left early, and since Centralia High was several miles further away from our house than James Madison was, Kirsten was always gone by the time I left for the bus stop.

  Kirsten had almost completely ignored me ever since I won the role as Wendy. Her eyes looked vacant, almost like she was on auto-pilot. This was not my sister living one room down from me. This was a stranger. I wanted so badly to reach out to her, to hug her and hold her to me and tell her I loved her, but something prevented me each time.

  It's got to be more than just the schoolwork. And I have to find out what.

  I waited for Kirsten to leave the house, heading for the place where she'd catch the city-bus that would take her to school. I only had about ten minutes before I had to leave myself, so time was of the essence.

  As I pushed the door to her room open, my stomach started to twist in protest. Several times in the past month, Kirsten accused me of sneaking into her room. I was innocent of that before, but now I was actually doing it. Crossing the threshold, I wasn't sure which would make me feel worse: finding something or not finding something.

  Kirsten's room, I was surprised to find, was pristine, even for her. The bed was made, her shelves were meticulously arrayed with books, academic awards and knickknacks, and even her desk had been straightened up. One glance around the room said it all: this was not the room of someone who was falling apart.

  Since I'm here, though, I might as well do what I came to do. I looked behind some of the books on her shelves, opened her dresser drawers and her closet, and even checked her wastebasket. I found nothing.

  I am a horrible person. I hate myself. Kirsten, I'm –

  As I was setting the wastebasket back into its place next to her desk, I saw something odd. It looked like a piece of plastic, stuck halfway between the wall and the desk. Stretching to reach it, my fingers were just able to grasp it, and it came free from its hiding place. It was a small plastic baggie. There was a powdery white residue lining the inside of the bag, and for a half-second, my brain went to the worst place possible. What can this be? Oh my GOD, Kirsten, what have you gotten yourself into?

  Standing, I held the baggie up to the sun's morning rays coming through her window. In the corner of the sealed bag, I could see a small fragment of something resembling a medicinal tablet or pill. It was tiny, not even the size of my fingertip. I relaxed a little bit. Whatever this was, it didn't look like the type of drugs we'd listened to a dozen lectures from Mom and Dad about. Prescription meds, maybe?

  Time was running out on me, and it was the only clue I had, so, thinking fast, I pulled a Kleenex from a box on her night-table and laid it on her desk. Then, carefully, I opened the baggie and tipped the fragment onto the tissue. Then I resealed the bag, put it back in the exact place I found it, and wrapped up the fragment in the tissue. With it in hand, I left Kirsten's room, closing the door. Finally, I deposited the tissue at the back of the desk drawer in my own room before grabbing my backpack and heading to my bus stop.

  My mind raced. What was that I found? I knew nothing about over-the-counter medicines beyond aspirin and a few other cold remedies. Could this be what's caused Kirsten's change in personality? How long has she been taking them? And where the hell is she getting them?

  Then it hit me.

  Duncan.

  I'd misunderstood when I heard her ask him for something to help her get through her Trig class troubles, and it wasn't a notebook at all. This was what he was doing, supplying her with drugs.

  Oh, Kirsten.

  * * *

  My sister's predicament was on my mind all morning, so it was tough to act cheerful when I joined my friends for lunch. Marissa and Michelle were all smiles, as was Kayla, as I sat down.

  “You got Wendy!” Kayla said happily. “That's awesome, Sophie! You must feel amazing!”

  “Yeah, Soph,” Michelle added. “You totally deserve it.”

  “Thanks, guys,” I said, returning their smiles and momentarily pushing Kirsten out of my mind. “Who are you playing, Shell?”

  She grinned. “I'm a pirate! Or, to be more specific, I'm Captain Hook's lackey, Smee.”

  “You and Siobhan as pirates? I love it!” said Marissa. “The girls are taking over!”

  “And you got Tiger Lily,” I replied. “I think you're perfect for that role.”

  “I agree. Her costume is kind of like Pocahontas, and I love it.”

  “Will Tiger Lily be wearing polka dots?” Michelle teased.

  “I'll work 'em in somewhere,” she replied, and I honestly couldn't tell if she was kidding or not. “Tiger Li
ly doesn't have many lines, but that's okay. It'll still be fun.”

  Kayla chimed in, “She may not have many lines, Riss, but her character is one of gestures and facial expressions. In a way, your role is harder than anyone's. You have to convey feelings and emotions without using words.”

  She smiled anxiously. “I'm still a little nervous. But, like you said, Soph, throw everything I have into it, right?”

  “Right,” I replied. “You're gonna do great, I just know it.” Then, to Kayla, I said, “It's gonna suck not having you at rehearsals anymore.”

  “Yeah, I know, but don't worry about me,” she said. “I've got my own job to do, and I gotta tell you, it's a huge job. Having Autumn there to do it with me has already been a ton of fun. That girl has artistic talent you wouldn't believe.” She grinned. “I think Ms. Hough wants to adopt her or something.”

  “That's good to hear,” I said. “Are we going to practice again today?”

  “Um, if you don't mind,” Michelle said, “Simon and I are going to study together in the library.”

  “Ooooooooh,” said Marissa, grinning mischievously.

  Michelle snorted in response. “Oooh all you want, Riss. We're just going to study, that's all.”

  “Suuuuure you are,” Marissa said, not letting it go.

  “Guess it's just you and me, then, Riss,” I said.

  “And Ayden,” she added.

  “And Ayden,” I echoed. “How are you two doing?”

  “Okay, I guess. I was hoping we could take a break from rehearsing too, so we could have some more time together. You know, to talk.” Her face reddened.

  Michelle's lips curled into a smile, and she opened her mouth, but before she could speak, I pointed at her and whispered, “Don't.” Michelle snorted again and closed her mouth, giggling to herself.

  “That's cool,” I said. “I just need to talk to him for a few minutes, and then he's all yours.”