Chapter Nine
Sophie
As soon as I walk into my dorm room after the bookstore, I leap into my bed and grab the mystery book. But then I remember I promised Mom I would call her.
Raven isn’t here. I think she went for a walk around campus for inspiration for lyrics. I don’t mind video calling my parents in front of her, but it is nice to have privacy sometimes. So I make myself comfy on my bed and start the video call.
Mom’s smiling face appears on the screen a few seconds later. “Hey, sweetie! Jorge, come. Sophie’s on video call.”
I hear some shuffling and footsteps and then Dad plops down near Mom on the living room couch.
He also wears a huge smile and greets me enthusiastically.
I look like my mom, with the same blue eyes and features, but I inherited my dark hair from my dad.
Dad’s mom immigrated to the US from South America with nothing but the clothes on her back.
She worked hard to build a life for herself here.
I’m grateful for all that she sacrificed.
Mom’s side of the family is Italian, and Dad’s father’s side is many generations of Americans.
“So tell me how school is going,” Dad says. “Feels like we haven’t heard from you in ages.”
“And wasn’t there a dance this past weekend?” Mom asks.
I spend the next half hour telling them all that happened the past few weeks, giving them as many details a possible because they literally want to know everything.
My parents tend to be overprotective of me and they sometimes are too much in my business.
But I get it. After losing two children, they hold on to me as though I’m the most precious thing in the world.
“I’m glad you had fun at the dance,” Mom says. “But I’m sorry you couldn’t find a date.”
“She doesn’t need to be distracted with boys,” Dad mutters. “She should put all her focus on her studies.”
“Jorge, let the girl have fun. Sophie, I want you to put all your effort into your studies, but it’s okay to let loose and have fun sometimes.”
“Just not too much fun,” Dad warns.
I laugh. “You have nothing to worry about, Dad. There are no guys on the horizon. I already told you that the guys here are not my type.”
“You mean, they’re not at your level, my smart girl.” Dad beams proudly.
“Dad,” I say with a laugh.
“What? You’re smart, mija. Own it. A guy would have to be someone really special to earn my daughter.”
If I let him, Dad could spend the whole night doing nothing but praising me.
I know my parents love me to death, but sometimes it feels like they put too much pressure on me.
Dad with school and Mom with wishing we had more things in common.
It’s not that we don’t or that we don’t get along, but she and my sister Gina were like two peas in a pod.
I don’t remember her or her twin brother Adam much because I was only three when they died, but I definitely remember Gina and Mom being super close.
I do consider myself close to my mom, but sometimes I feel like she wishes I were more like my sister.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say. “A smart guy would be nice, but really, all I want is a kind guy with a huge heart.”
Mom nods. “That’s what I want for you as well.”
For some reason, Damian’s face flashes before my eyes. Weird. Why would he pop into my brain right now? Because he was kind to me today?
“Oh! Speaking of school, I’m tutoring a new student,” I inform my parents.
“That’s great, sweetie!” Mom says. “Is she one of the younger students?”
“Actually, no. He’s in my grade, but he just started yesterday. He’s Principal Harrington’s son.”
“A ‘he,’” Dad grumbles.
“I’ve tutored lots of boys before, Dad.”
“But they were all younger than you.”
“True…”
“Oh, let her have fun, Jorge. She’s only sixteen years old.”
“I remember what it was like to be that age, Angela. And the boys at her school are rich. I don’t trust rich teenage boys.”
“Trust me, I don’t either, Dad. But we’re talking about my principal’s son. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is date my principal’s son.”
Dad sighs in relief. “That’s good to hear.”
I don’t want to tell them that Damian is a bad boy. I know they would freak out and demand my principal keep thirty feet between us at all times. Maybe yesterday, I would have considered using my parents as an excuse to dissolve our tutoring sessions. But after today…I don’t want to.
Thinking of Damian reminds me of what happened at the bookstore. Narrowing my eyes at my parents, I say, “Mom, Dad. Did you really have to cancel my credit card? I looked like a total loser at the bookstore.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but we didn’t know how else to get our message across,” Dad says. “We’ve warned you many times to be careful with how you spend money on books. Clearly, our words did not enter your ears.”
“Buying new books when you have piles and piles of old books in your room at home and at school? Does that sound logical to you, Sophie?” Mom asks.
“It’s perfectly logical when you love books as much as I do.”
“We love that you’re passionate about books,” Mom says. “But like I told you earlier, you need to learn to be more responsible with money. All I imagine is you in your twenties spending all your hard-earned money on books instead of more important things.”
“What can be more important than books?”
“Food,” Dad says. “Utilities. Rent?”
“Unless you want to sleep on a park bench surrounded by hundreds of books,” Mom says.
I groan. “I’m not that bad.”
“I went into your room last week to do some light cleaning and I could barely move. There are books in every nook and cranny.”
“I asked you guys for a bigger bookshelf. You refused.”
“There is no room for a bigger bookshelf in your room, Sophie,” Dad says.
“You can put it in a different room,” I say innocently.
They both give me stern looks.
I sigh. “It just hurts to get rid of old books. Feels like I’m throwing away an old friend.”
“I know it can be hard to let go of your old things,” Mom says, “but sometimes we need to do things that are painful. There are many kids who could benefit from your old books if we gave them to charity.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I can look through them when I come home for spring break and donate some to charity.”
Dad smiles. “Now you sound like a mature young lady.”
I perk up. “Does that mean I can have my credit card back?”
Mom holds up her hand. “One step at a time.”
I frown.
We talk about other things and then Mom gets a sorrowful look on her face. “Sophie, you know what’s coming up.”
I swallow as I glance at the calendar I hung on the wall. I can never forget that date. With my heart feeling like it’s being poked and prodded, I nod. “Adam and Gina’s death anniversary. Are you guys going to do anything?”
“Nothing too special,” Mom says. “We’ll visit their graves and talk to them for a bit. Would you like to be on video call with us?”
“Yeah. I’d love that a lot.”
My brother and sister died in a car accident when they were sixteen.
My parents don’t talk about them often because it’s too painful.
Even though they were twins, they were very different.
Adam was a big flirt and goofy while Gina was more serious.
She was studious like me, but she was also very social and liked to go out and have adventures, like Mom.
One thing she and I had in common was our love for books.
In fact, many of the books in the house (not counting mine) were hers.
I’m glad my sister was obsessed with taking photos and videos because I’ll always know what they were like.
Dad presses his lips to Mom’s cheek. “We’ll get through it.”
She nods and rests her head on his shoulder.
We talk about a few more things and then wish each other good night. I fall back against the wall and think about my brother and sister, trying to find images from my own memories and not the ones I’ve seen in Gina’s videos. Since I was so young, I only have a handful of them.
Then I dive into my new book.
About twenty minutes later, the door opens and Raven walks in. “Hey, Soph.”
“Hey.”
“New book?”
“Yep. I just got back from the bookstore with Damian.”
She freezes near her desk and turns around. “Did you just say you went to the bookstore with Damian Harrington?”
“It’s Damian Harrington Lawrence,” I correct as I turn the page. So far, the book is intriguing. I’ve already met the main character and her love interest and can tell this romance is going to be awesome. Their chemistry is off the charts.
“Fine, whatever. But you hung out with him after your session?”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘hanging out,’” I clarify as I turn another page. “Just a teen giving another teen a ride on his motorcycle.”
Raven intakes a sharp breath. “Did you just say Damian gave you a ride on his motorcycle?”
“Hmm…? Oh my gosh. The love interest in this book is so frustrating but so lovable, too. Like, I wish he would just press the woman he’s obviously in love with against the wall and lay on her the most passionate kiss in the history of kisses—”
“Sophie!”
My eyes snap to hers. “Huh?”
“I asked you a very important question!”
“What? Oh…yeah, you can borrow my notes.”
“This isn’t about your notes. This is about you riding on Damian’s motorcycle to the bookstore.”
“Oh, that.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. “Yeah, that happened.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m calling in Addie and Carly.”
She whips out her phone and sends a text to our other best friends. She must have said this was urgent because they knock on the door thirty seconds later.
“Did you text that Damian gave Sophie a romantic ride on his bike?” Addie asks as she bursts into the room as soon as Raven opens the door.
“And he kissed her?” Carly adds with huge eyes.
My head once again snaps up. “Who said anything about a kiss?”
“Oh, that was just me,” Carly says with a laugh. “I was trying to make the moment more dramatic.”