54. Sophie
FIFTY-FOUR
SOPHIE
“So you have no idea what he’s planning for your last…?” Maya trails off as she reaches for a fresh slice of pizza.
“Date?”
“Oh, are we allowed to call them dates now?”
“I think we both know they were always dates.”
“I mean, I did, but you were adamant that they were not. Fake-dating fakers is what you two were.”
“Sorry it took me so long to trust my feelings.” I roll my eyes. “They needed a while to redeem themselves. But then it was like… I had spent years pretending I was fine, pretending I liked everything. And then I was getting all this time with the guy and I was pretending to pretend. And well, I’m very glad he seemed tired of pretending too.”
Maya rolls her eyes at me and groans.“Sophie, that man was never pretending. He was being the guy we all know you deserve. Anyway, all that matters is that you put that poor man out of his misery and you did something for yourself. It’s a win-win,” she says, her eyes softening in a very un-Maya like way. “So, what’s on deck for the last date?” Davis and Foster are out bonding, so we’re eating pizza and pretending to watch a reality show neither of us actually cares about.
“No, not our last date. It’s just the last in this round of themed dates,” I correct her.
She holds her hands up. “You know what I mean.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s probably not taking you to the zoo.”
“No, he already told me that was not happening. But um…” I start to say as we make our way to the living room. “So, there’s this thing I wanted to ask you about.” I don’t know why I’m nervous. Maya and I talk about everything. Hell, I knew way too much about Davis before I even met the man.
“Is this about sex?” she asks, a bit too excitedly.
“Well, yeah, I guess so.”
“Is it weird?”
“Is what weird?”
“His dick. Does he have a weird dick or something?”
I blink back at her. “What? No! This has nothing to do with anatomy.”
“Oh, well, that’s good. Although,” she says with a sigh, “a weird dick can do glorious things.” When she grins over at me I feel my cheeks heat.
“Anyway, so, with…”
“Shithead?” I laugh because Maya has taken to using the poop emoji whenever he comes up instead of his name.
“Yeah. We, well, the sex wasn’t exactly…”
“Normal?”
“Maya, let me finish.”
“Sorry, I’m impatient. Please continue.”
“It wasn’t exactly exciting. He, well, it always felt like I was there for him to use. He’d”—I mime him thrusting—“then it would be done and I’d lay there for a little bit wondering what all the fuss was about. I’d suggest things in the beginning, and he’d say ‘sure, yeah, let’s do that,’ but we’d start the same way we always did and ultimately end that way too. It was like the minute something felt good for him, it erased the conversation.”
Maya stares back. We haven’t discussed this part of my relationship. I’ve been keeping it locked inside because looking back it’s all blanketed in red flags. It’s stupidly obvious.
“So like, you never… he never got you there or helped you get there, or fucking cared if you did?” She purses her lips looking as if she’s ready to physically fight someone.
“I think we’ve established that he didn’t care about anything but his own needs. That wasn’t exactly specific to any one part of his life. He also didn’t tend to care if I wasn’t in the mood,” I whisper and have to look away.
“Oh, Soph.” I feel her move and her arms wrap around me. “I’m sorry.”
I pull away because that’s not why I’m bringing any of this up. I don’t want to talk about him or what he didn’t do for me or what he did to me while he was too busy doing everything for himself.
“With Foster, well, it’s… I’m asking for things,” I say slowly. “Demanding them, really. And he does them enthusiastically. Then he asks for things, and I’m excited to do whatever.”
Maya looks like she’s about to say something like “bless your heart” or “you sweet summer child,” and I brace myself.
“So you’re enjoying yourself,” she states.
“Yes,” I admit, feeling my face heat by several degrees.
“What’s your question?”
“I don’t know, sometimes I feel a bit like I’m maybe asking for too much or being too out there, but it’s like anything I’ve even wondered about I say out loud and then he does it.”
“There is nothing ‘out there’ about asking for what you want, Soph. Sounds like you’re living your best life right now. You’re with this guy who is madly in love with you rather than madly in love with the fact you’re in love with him. Have you felt uncomfortable with anything?”
“God no,” I sputter. “And that’s what worried me a bit.”
Maya shrugs. “You’re two adults in a consensual relationship, and it sounds like you care about each other’s pleasure versus only your own. Embrace it, my friend. If he’s willing to try every little thing you want and vice versa, as long as you’re being safe and it makes you happy, don’t let those little worries in, okay?”
“Okay.” I sigh.
“So it’s good?”
I flop back against the couch with a dramatic groan. “It’s so good.”
“I knew it would be. Your chemistry is too powerful for it not to be extra-explosive in the bedroom.” She takes a bite of pizza, and I know what she’s about to say before she even opens her mouth. “Maybe buy some backup lamps.”
The week after a long weekend is always the longest in history. Every hour drags by, or maybe that’s how it feels waiting to find out what Foster has in store for Z.
“You’re in a good mood today.” I laugh as Pete practically skips out of his classroom. I take a peek through the door hoping to catch a glimpse of Foster, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
“Mr. Walsh is helping Debra Donahue in Mr. Johnson’s class.”
“Oh, that’s nice of him. I wasn’t looking for him, though,” I say as casually as possible.
“Miss Hore?”
“Yes, Pete?”
“I think we both know you were.” The little shit grins up at me and winks, except Pete cannot wink so it’s more of a regular blink with a very exaggerated head nod.
“Okay, fine, I was. You caught me.”
He grins, nodding. “That’s because I’m perceptive.”
“How is training going?” I ask as he flops onto the bean bag across from me.
“We didn’t train yesterday.”
“Oh?” Strange, Foster was later than usual getting back because he said he was going to train with Pete. Alarm bells ring in the back of my mind. Why would he say that if that’s not what he was doing?
“I have a giant blister,” Pete says, leaning down to untie his shoe. “It’s really gross.”
“You can keep your shoe on. I know what gross blisters look like,” I insist.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see it? Mr. Walsh said it’s a reward for how hard I’m working. It’s a blister to be proud of.”
“I bet it is. So Mr. Walsh saw your blister last night then?”
“Mm-hmm,” he confirms. “He said we couldn’t train, but that maybe I could help him with a project instead.” I’m about to ask what the project is, but he holds out his hand to stop me. “I can’t tell you, I pinky-promised.”
Well then, Foster didn’t lie about where he was going and in fact was up to something that’s probably going to make my heart melt right out of my body.
“I won’t ask. That’s between you and Mr. Walsh.”
“It’s good, the project.” He leans forward. “Really good.” He does his Pete wink again, and I laugh.
“Okay, I believe you. Now tell me how things are going at school. Did you do well on your last spelling test?”
“I got perfect. And,” he says quickly, making me jolt, “I got the bonus word right.”
“That’s amazing, Pete. What was the bonus word?”
“Cornucopia.”
“Oh wow, that’s a good one.”
He nods, his face scrunching. “I don’t know what a cornucopia is though.”
“What do you think it is?” After Foster’s foray into nut milk with him, I’m curious to see what his mind does with this.
He shrugs. “A world made of corn? Like Zootopia but with corn.”
“So corn characters or buildings?”
I watch him think. It looks as if he’s building the entire world in his mind. “I think corn characters.”
“And would they all be full cobs?”
His face somehow scrunches even more, his lips moving this way than that. “Do you think a corn cob could be a firefighter?”
Well, no. “Do you?”
“I would worry they’d pop.” He lifts his hand and spreads his fingers, making popping sounds.
I can’t hold the laugh in anymore. “It’s kind of a disturbing world you’re creating, Pete.”
“Maybe a city made of corn instead.”
“But what happens if it gets hot? Would houses start popping?”
“Miss Hore?”
“Mmhmm?”
“What’s a cornucopia?”
“It’s a big horn full of fruits and vegetables. Usually they’re common around Thanksgiving.”
“So… there’s no corn?”
“Well, there could be corn inside.”
“I like our idea more.”
“Me too,” I agree. “Way more interesting.”
After dropping Pete back off, I catch a glimpse of Foster in another classroom. I pause to watch as he listens to the student he’s sitting with. She seems a bit agitated, but he remains calm taking everything in stride. Eventually, the student seems to collect herself and her head bends as she begins writing something, Foster’s lips moving the whole time, occasionally pointing at something on the page.
He’s well regarded by the teachers and his fellow EAs in this school. Sometimes I worry he’ll give in to the naysayers. Pursue something he’s not passionate about just to get them off his back. He’s capable of being whatever he wants to be—aside from anything involving blood, of course. But he’s doing what he should be doing, what he was born to be doing. I believe that deep in my soul.
People like to talk about how professional athletes and artists have a gift, but I see that whenever I see Foster with his students. The kind of patience he has and his ability to take everything in turn isn’t taught, it is something he was born with.
“Miss Hore?” Principal Wong comes around the corner, and I jump.
“Oh,” I lay my hand on my chest, laughing nervously. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
She smiles at me. “I’ve perfected a stealth approach. Can I help you with something?”
I glance once more at Foster. “No, I was dropping Pete off and procrastinating before I have a call with my supervisor.”
“He’s very good at calming nerves,” Principal Wong says when she sees who I was looking at.
This is incredibly unprofessional of me. We don’t kiss or touch here. We still have lunch together every day, but that’s as intimate as we are. And now the principal has caught me practically drooling all over the floor while staring at my boyfriend mid-day. My boyfriend.
“That he is. Anyway, I’m going to take that call. I’ll see you later, Principal Wong.”
“Sophie,” she says as I’m about to round the corner. I turn back slowly, like a kid about to be reprimanded. “Good luck with your call.” The smile she’s sending my way is big, bright, and real.
“Thank you,” I croak before scurrying back to my broom closet.
I’m in shock as I hang up the phone. Did Principal Wong know what the call was about? Is that why she was smiling at me like that?
There’s a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I call, a stupid smile plastered to my face.
“Hey,” Foster says, slipping in.
I’m up and wrapped around him in seconds. I can’t help myself, seeing him right now is the cherry on top of the last twenty minutes.
His arms tighten around me and I get a little lost in the feel and smell of him. “Did you enjoy the show today?” he asks when he drops his arms and steps back.
“What show?”
“The one starring me and Debra Donahue.”
“How did you know? You never even looked up.”
He pulls me back in, his lips coming to rest near my ear. “I can feel when you’re near, sunshine.”
I scoff. “You cannot.”
“Can too,” he argues. “I have Sophiedar.” He crosses his arms and leans back against the door. It’s unfair how good he looks doing something so damn basic.
“Do you have Principal Wongdar too? That woman moves like a panther.”
He shakes his head, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as his eyes travel down my body. “Just you.”