New Follower !?
Chapter 40
SOPHIA
And it wouldn't even be that deep if my sketchbook didn't have my name written across the very first page in giant, unmistakable glitter letters. Everyone who opens it will know exactly who drew him.
A half-hour later, I press my forehead against the cool glass of my aunt's car window, watching the expensive estates of the academy district blur into a smear of green and grey.
"Are you tired again, sweetheart?" Clara asks gently from the driver's seat.
"No. I'm just resting my head," I lie, staring blankly out at the asphalt. I turn my eyes toward her profile. " Clara... when this hundred-year anniversary celebration is finally over, can you promise me something?"
"What is it sweetie "
"Promise me you will never, ever ask me to help you with anything involving the Calloway family again."
Clara smiles, her eyes remaining fixed on the traffic ahead. "Are you telling me you're suddenly too shy to be around Lorenzo Calloway?"
I roll my eyes. What is it with her constantly twisting my words? It's not that at all.
"Are you developing a little crush on that boy, Shopi?"
"No!" I snap, the answer leaving my throat a bit too loud, a bit too defensive. "No, it's not that. I hate him," I tell her, and for the first time in days, the words feel completely, fiercely sincere.
"You hate him? Why is that?"
Because he is systematically turning my life into a living hell.
"We're just too different," I say instead, pulling my knees up toward my chest.
"Is different really that bad?"
"Yes, Clara. When it comes to two completely different worlds, different social statuses... it is."
For the rest of the drive, neither of us says a word. The low hum of the car radio is the only distraction keeping me from drowning in my own terrifying thoughts.
Until my phone violently buzzes in my lap.
A text message lights up the screen.
A genuine, soft smile breaks through my panic, and I quickly type a sweet reply back to him. But before I can even hit send, a second notification slides down from the top of the screen.
My breath hitches.
"Oh my..." I instantly press my palm flat over my mouth to choke back the gasp before Clara can notice.
"What? What is it?" My aunt glances over at me in concern, but I am entirely too stunned to form a coherent sentence.
Instead, I read the notification again. And again. It has to be a glitch. It has to be a fake account. It has to be some cruel, stupid prank designed by Vivienne to push me over the edge.
Yes. Just a joke.
Not even a funny one.
But my shaking thumb opens the app anyway, holding the screen inches from my face as if that could somehow make the text rewrite itself. I read the name over and over until it burns into my retinas.
What in the absolute world?
"Sophi, talk to me. What is wrong?" Clara demands, her voice rising.
"I... I just got a follower request," I whisper, the statement coming out like a terrified question.
"But isn't that a good thing?" She looks completely confused, steering the car around our corner.
Yes, normally it's great when someone wants to follow you on Instagram. But not this person. Never this person.
I violently slam the power button, turning the screen completely black, and shove the phone deep into the bottom of my bag, trying to pretend the words didn't exist. Trying to ignore the digital ghost that just invaded my sanctuary.
There is no way.