26. Sophie
TWENTY-SIX
SOPHIE
“I did not expect an Easter basket,” Foster says, sorting through the literal basket on his lap. He ripped into it the second we got in the car. “I don’t think I’ve had one since I was like”—he stops to think—“ten, maybe.”
“I’m not convinced my mother realizes I know the Easter Bunny isn’t real.”
“Never tell her you know,” he says, popping a jellybean into his mouth.
The weekend was interesting. The difference between Foster around his family versus mine was stark. He walked on eggshells around his, his body language tight, buttoned up, on guard for whatever attack one of his cousins or uncle were ready to launch.
At my parents’ place he was open, his smiles wide and genuine, not a single worry lingering behind his eyes. Meanwhile, I was on guard with my family. Ready to divert any mention of Gregory that I could. Ready to avoid letting them in on how not awesome things had been for years, yet again.
“You okay?”
I glance over as I pull to a stop at the end of my parents’ road. “Yeah.” I force a smile. “Just.” I swallow. “Nothing.”
“You know you can talk to?—?”
“I haven’t shared a bed with a guy since him. I also haven’t told my parents everything. There’s a lot they don’t know because I don’t know how to bring it up. I… you saw my mom at my place. We have never had secrets from one another. It’s going to take me time to open up. I’m still figuring things out, still trying to understand how I missed so much.”
He doesn’t respond, just reaches over and gently squeezes my arm as I turn right and head for home.
“Good Easter?” Principal Wong asks when she walks into the staff room to fill her coffee mug on Tuesday morning.
“Yeah, you?”
“Oh, you know, the usual. Too much food, kids hopped up on sugar.” She sighs. “I’m glad I caught you, actually.”
My heartbeat intensifies. I’m not doing something right. I’ve told a kid the wrong thing. Something awful happened to one of the students. I’m being transferred to a new school.
“I heard you and a certain EA are seeing one another socially.” I swear my heart stops. It resumes only when I see the smile on her face. The relief that I’m not about to be reprimanded is immense.
Foster and I haven’t talked about this. We are definitely friends, but are we still fake dating for certain people? Are we broadening the net to include people beyond the ones we were initially trying to fool? Panic begins to rise as my heart beat quickens. We should have discussed this at length. Should have set more rules and boundaries.
“Sophie.” Principal Wong’s hand rests lightly on my arm. “Don’t panic, it’s not against the rules or anything, and the fact no one really knows tells me you’re both professionals.”
“We are, yes,” I say. I didn’t confirm or deny anything other than the fact we are professionals. That should be okay. Unless she finds out that it’s all fake and then is upset with me for lying. You didn’t. But didn’t I? I omitted the truth; that may as well be lying. It’s a victimless lie. Hardly. I’m going to be a casualty of this lie. The gravitational pull of Foster is powerful, and I’m afraid of being pulled in so violently that my entire existence breaks into a billion pieces when he moves along to something real.
You’re doing it again. You’re making your entire life about a guy.
She’s still talking, and I’m barely listening. No, I’m panicking.
“I’m sorry,” I interrupt. “I have a call in a couple minutes so I need to get back.” The lie comes too easily. Or maybe this is me now, Sophie Hore, expert liar. Gregory gave me one skill, I guess.
I slip out of the room and hurry back to my office, avoiding every person on my way, hoping Foster doesn’t pop around a corner.
In my office, I lock my door and pace around the tiny space before grabbing my phone and calling Maya.
“What’s up, buttercup?” comes her cheery voice.
“Hey,” I squeak. Fuck. I wanted to sound fine. I don’t want her to worry, I just need to talk to my friend.
“Soph?” Maya sounds instantly concerned. “Is everything okay?”
I take a deep breath and then another one until I’m practically gasping.
“You get your shit together, and I’ll be right here okay? Slow breaths, Soph.”
After a few minutes I’ve slowed my breathing down enough that I don’t feel like I’m chasing air.
“Tell me something ridiculous,” I gasp.
“Sure thing.” I can practically see her lean back in her desk chair. “So last night, Davis came over, and my god, Sophie, this maaaan. He shows up with a goddamn mustache. A mustache!” she shouts. “You know, the thing I said I’d never ride.” My breathing changes again as I start to laugh. “But like, here’s this guy who has rocked my world and ruined a bunch of lamps in the process, so I figured why not. I’m going to marry this man, I can feel it. I’m going to be married to a guy with a mustache, and I’m going to be fine with it.”
“Trying new things keeps life interesting,” I say, my breathing back to normal, my heart rate, almost back to normal.
“Davis keeps life interesting,” she cackles. “So, what’s up, Soph?”
“I don’t know?—”
“Nope,” Maya cuts in. “Don’t give me that shit. You know but you don’t want to face it. So let me ask one more time: what’s up, Soph?”
“I think I’m making my life about a guy again, and I’m afraid.”
“What guy?”
“Foster.”
“Fake boyfriend friend date Foster?”
“Mmm.”
“Have you moved in together?”
“No,” I huff.
“Are you doing his laundry?”
“No,” I say quietly.
“Canceling plans with friends because he wants you to hang out with him?”
“No.”
“Are you planning on changing your career path because he thinks you should aim higher than your dream job?”
That one still hurts. I put so much on hold to appease him.
“Are you wearing clothes he picked out for you?” she asks before I can answer.
I bristle at this one. “No.”
“Letting him get off on you without getting you off?”
“Maya!”
“What, didn’t you tell me that’s how it was?”
“Not in those words.”
“Is the meaning the same?”
I hesitate for too long, and she makes a noise of disapproval.
“Do you enjoy his company, in a non-romantic way?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“And you’re definitely not dating?”
“No, we are just friends. We’re just really good at pretending and I think I’m having a hard time separating the two sides,” I admit. “And I think I should be able to.”
“Maybe take a step back?” she suggests.
But I like spending time with Foster, and he makes it easier to forget. He makes me feel worthy of his time.
“What’s going through your head, Soph? You called me, so talk.”
“I… I don’t want to take a step back.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” I pick up a pen and roll it between my fingers. “I want to spend time with him.”
“Okay, so you are afraid of… what? That you’re developing feelings? Rediscovering feelings you’ve always had?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re scared that he won’t share them? That it’s too soon? That he’s going to be like Gregory?”
I hang my head. “Yes,” I say softly.
“Right now, at this moment, is he anything like Gregory?”
“Not one bit.”
“Alright, so let’s stick to that for now. He’s not Gregory.”
“Gregory wasn’t Gregory in the beginning either,” I say quietly. He was charismatic and kind. Always giving me his time, constant gifts, compliments. He built me up and then without me realizing it he began to tear me down.
“Yeah, but this is so different, Soph. You’ve known Foster since he was a kid. I want you to ask yourself one question, okay?”
“What is it?”
“What do you want? Don’t focus on the negative shit. I want you to narrow it right down. Don’t think about the future right now. What do you, Sophie Hore, want?”
“I… want Foster in my life.”
“Great. Then keep doing what you’re doing and use that intuition of yours to guide you.”
“I used that with Gregory.”
“No, you didn’t, Sophie.”
“What?”
“He used fear. We saw it, even though at the time it wasn’t obvious.”
“I’m so stupid,” I whisper, fighting back tears.
“Stop it. You weren’t stupid. You aren’t stupid. You were young, and he abused his power. You aren’t at fault here.”
The timer on my desk goes off, letting me know I have five minutes before I need to pick up a student for a meeting.
“I’ve gotta go, Maya. Thanks for the chat.” I can hear her say my name as I end the call. I’ll apologize later.
It’s hard to be in this line of work while coming to terms with how I allowed Gregory to treat me. No , I scold myself. You allowed nothing . He used everything in his arsenal to always turn things on me and he did it so gradually, so fucking effectively that I didn’t see it happening.
“Do you feel angry right now?”
“No,” Lily, a grade three student I’ve been meeting with regularly, huffs.
“How do you feel right now?”
“Tired.” I can see that. I’ve never seen a kid with bags that rival a first-year medical resident.
“Are you having trouble sleeping?”
She glares at me. She says she’s not angry, but her body language is screaming at me right now. I can see the rage simmering below the surface.
“No.” Her tone is defensive.
“It’s not your fault if you’re not sleeping, Lily.” I try to comfort her.
“My mom says I’m not trying hard enough to sleep.”
“Why do you think she says that?”
Lily stares back, unblinking. She thinks I’m an idiot. I can read it all over her face. But I want her to tell me. I’m not going to tell her what I think is going on. I maintain eye contact until she looks up and out the high library window.
“She says I’m sneaky.”
“How is being sneaky making it hard for you to sleep?”
“She thinks I’m listening to her for my dad. She thinks I’m his spy.”
“Why would she think you’re spying on her?”
“I got up to pee and heard her talking to someone.”
“Did you stop and listen?”
“No!” she snaps. “I’m not a spy.”
I can see her body coiling, like she’s ready to jump up and run out of here.
“I don’t think you’re a spy, Lily. I’m trying to understand why your mom may have thought that.” I watch as some of the tension leaves her body.
“She yelled at me when she heard the toilet flush.” I wait for her to collect herself. “She told me I was lying and I didn’t have to go to the bathroom. She said I was hiding and listening.”
“But you just had to use the bathroom,” I confirm. “Do you have to use the bathroom a lot at night?”
Her gaze is trained on the window again, and I can almost see her going somewhere else. Her lips purse and relax again and again, an inner battle showing on her face. She’s not the first kid struggling to tell me, and she won’t be the last. Hell, I’m an adult and trained in this stuff, and I can’t seem to get my feelings out.
The bell goes, and she jumps and runs out of the library so fast I don’t even have time to say a proper bye. The last two sessions with Lily have been silence or grunts. I may not have gotten everything out of her, but I got something and it feels like a win. And after my little breakdown earlier, I’ll take any win I can.