Chapter Two

 

Chapter Two

 

            Sophie pushed back her long, golden blonde hair and stared hard at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. It seemed as if she'd changed over night. Or, rather, over the course of the past few weeks – ever since her period. She felt older and certainly prettier, but in a more mature way of course.

            She opened her green eyes wide and held the mascara wand in a trembling hand. Then, she slowly brushed it over her long lashes, blinking rapidly as she did so. As a result, the dark makeup flecked her eyelid and underneath her lower lashes.

            She groaned, moving on to her other eyes, but repeating her mistake. Before she could attempt to fix it, however, there was a soft knock at the door.

            "Sophie?" Her mother called. "Can I come in?"

            She reluctantly opened the door and her mother simply smiled at her.

            Molly Harris was, undoubtedly, a beautiful woman. She had the same green eyes as her daughter as well as bright smile, but her hair was a light shade of brown. She had the svelte figure of a woman half her age and thought she tried to play down her good looks with almost frumpy housewife clothes, there was no denying the fact that she was still quite the looker.

            "What did you do?" She asked, grabbing a tissue.

            "I was trying to put on some mascara,' Sophie replied sheepishly. "But I guess I kind of messed it up.

            Molly laughed, running the tissue under the faucet. Then she expertly wiped off the makeup and kissed the tip of her daughter's nose.

            "You don't need makeup to be pretty," she said. "Look at how beautiful you are without it." She turned her around to face the mirror.

            Sophie realized that yes, she was naturally pretty, but wasn't she supposed to wear makeup? All teenage girls did and she was going to be one soon.

            "You wear makeup," she pointed out.

            Molly smiled. "Yes, but I have a good reason."

             "What is it?" Sophie demanded.

            "I'm getting to be an old lady," she joked. "I need to cover up all my wrinkles and warts."

            "Mommy . . . ," she groaned.

            "Okay, okay." She picked up the tube of mascara. "Just a little – and don't tell your father. He'd have a fit."

            Sophie squealed with delight. "And how about some blush?" She suggested hopefully.

            "Nice try." She took out the mascara brush. "Now, open your eyes and try not to blink."

            Sophie did as she said and, moments later, marveled at the transformation. Her bright green eyes popped in a way they never had before and were more prominent than she'd ever seen.

            Of course the change wasn't that significant, but in Sophie's 12 year old eyes she looked prettier and older than ever.

            "So," Molly said, putting away the mascara. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

            Sophie looked at her. She knew what it was about. She'd recently overheard her mother and step-father talking and her mother apparently wanted to take some business classes over the summer.

            "What is it?" She asked anyway.

            "You father and I have been talking," Molly began slowly, "and we want to go away this summer. All of us!" She exclaimed encouragingly.

            Sophie's mouth hung open. Three months without her best friends! "Why?" She cried. "I mean, I thought you were taking classes this summer or something."

            "Yeah, but I can do that any time. Brian really wants this vacation." She'd always referred to him to Sophie as her father or Brian, using the terms interchangeably. It was no secret that he wasn't her biological father, but ever since he'd given her his surname years ago, he'd insisted that he be considered as such.

            "I heard you guys talking," Sophie said. "You sounded really excited about going to school."

            "I am," she replied. "But that can wait. Your father really wants us to have this vacation."

            "But what about Ollie and Jill?" Sophie asked before she could stop herself. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend the summer with her family – she did – but she couldn't bear such a long time away from her two best friends in the whole world.

            "Well, that's the other thing, honey. Everyone is going. Alan and Jonathan found a gorgeous beach house in North Carolina," she said, referring to Oliver's and Jillian's fathers. "We'll be staying there all summer."

            She spoke plenty enthusiastically but Sophie could tell she wasn't as thrilled about it as she let on.

            "Do you really want to go?" She asked.

            "Of course," Molly replied, but not with much conviction. "Three months on the beach – doesn't it sound like fun?"

            "Yeah," she said slowly. "But you were really excited about taking –."

            "That can wait," she said, in an almost sharp tone, which was very unlike her. "We leave the week after school lets out."

            "Do Ollie and Jill know yet?"

            She nodded. "They found out today, just like you. Jillian's mom and I also thought it might be a good idea to go shopping this weeSophied – you have almost no summer clothes." She opened the bathroom door. "I'm going to go and start dinner. See you in a bit, honey."

            Sophie stared after her, wondering how someone could ever give up on something they wanted so easily, as her mother was clearly doing for Brian.

 

           

            Despite his hatred for shopping, Oliver came along with them to the mall. After all, Sophie and Jillian were his best friends. What else was he going to do with his day?

            "I want a sundress," Sophie said, pulling a few from the racks.

            "Me too," Jillian agreed, holding a short pink dress against her body. She admired her reflection. "This is cute – don't you think, Sophie?"

            "Uh-uh," Her mother said a few feet away. "Too short, Jillian. Keep looking."

            Jillian rolled her eyes, but put the dress back and continued to browse.

            Oliver looked at Sophie. "I hope you won't get anything that short," he said, as if he had a say in what she wore.

            She merely laughed. "The day you start wearing dresses," she said, "is the day I start taking fashion advice from you."

            Jillian laughed with her and stuck out her tongue at Oliver.

            He did the same and turned around, headed for the young men's department.

            "He likes you," Jillian said knowingly.

            Sophie picked up a fedora and placed it atop her golden blonde head then promptly removed it. She looked at her. "What are you talking about?"

            "Come on, Sophie. He's always staring at you like you have food on your face, and he's always giving you little compliments. He likes you."

            Sophie laughed. "How does he stare at me?" She asked.

            Jillian rolled her eyes. "I'm serious. Anyway, do you like him?"

            "I don't know. Do you?" Sophie returned.

            "Ew!" Jillian exclaimed, and then proceeded to make over emphasized gagging noises. She laughed. "He's like my brother!"

            "He's like my brother too," Sophie insisted.

            Jillian stared at her. "You're such a liar – I can tell."

            Her face turned a deep shade of red and she had to look away. "Whatever."

            They continued to browse in silence until finally Sophie turned to her again. "Do you really think he likes me?" She asked.

            Jillian laughed. "Oh my gosh, you do like him!" She exclaimed.

            "No I don't!" She said. "And even if I did, it's not like it would really matter. He's 13. . .he probably thinks I'm a baby, even if he does like me a little."

            "I don't know about that, Sophie. But I think you should find out."

            "How?" She asked.

            "This summer. We're going to be together almost every minute. We'll be in the same house. You'll definitely have time to find out if he likes you."

            "Maybe," Sophie said slowly. "And my birthday is in July. Maybe he'll act different if we're the same age."

            "He doesn't care that you're 12," Jillian insisted. "He's known you for too long to care. But if you want to wait until your birthday, you can. Maybe your parents will throw you a party at the beach house."

            "Yeah, maybe they will," she mused. "Oh, Jill, this is gonna be a great summer. I can feel it."

 

 

            "Don't pack too much."

            Sophie looked up from the open suitcases on her bed. "Huh?"

            Molly smiled, walking further into the room. "I said, don't pack too much," she repeated, pulling two pairs of sneakers out of a bag. She looked at Sophie. "What are you planning to do with these?"

            "I might need them," she said.

            "For the beach? I don't think so, honey."

            "I just want to be prepared," Sophie said indignantly. She had insisted on packing herself and didn't want to be told how to do it.

            Molly smiled. "But you don't need two pairs of tennis shoes."

            "What if it rains?" She asked with a little pout.

            "Then your flip-flopped feet with get cooled off. You just don't need so much stuff, Sophie. Besides, I picked up a few things for you today and packed them in my bag."

            "Alright," Sophie relented, pulling a few pairs of jeans out of one of her suitcases. "When are we leaving again?"

            "Four tomorrow morning," Molly replied. "So you'll need to get to bed early tonight."

            "But I'm supposed to met Ollie and Jill at the arcade," she said with a little whine.

            "Okay, okay. You can go. But be home by eight o'clock. Got it?"

            Sophie smiled. "Deal. Can I go now?"

            Molly looked at the clothes strewn about the room and the opened suitcases covering her bed. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll get you packed."

            "Thanks, Mom," Sophie said, conveniently forgetting about her desperation for independence. She quickly pecked her cheek and flung herself out the door.

            As she left, Brian came in.

            "Hi, Daddy. Bye, Daddy," she said quickly, dashing out before he could reply.

            He shook his head. "Hey," he greeted Molly, kissing the top of her head.

            'Hi," she replied, carefully folding a shirt and placing it in a suitcase. How was your last day at the office?"

            He sighed, falling down next to her on the bed. "Stressful," he replied. "I might have to come up a couple times this summer, but for the most part I'm free."

            She smiled, sifting through a pile of sweaters mixed with tank tops. "Your more needy patients?"

            He grunted. "You got it. Anyhow, where was Sophie off to so fast? She should stay in tonight. Did you tell her we leave early in the morning?"

            "Yeah, I told her," she replied. "But I thought it'd be okay – she'll be home early."

            "That's too bad though. I had a little something to give her." He held up a small gift bag.

            "What is it?" She asked curiously.

            "It's for vacation," he replied, carefully peeling back the pink tissue paper and gingerly removing the contents. It was a two-piece string bikini covered in lime green stripes.

            She looked down at it then back up at him. "What is that?" She demanded.

            "A bikini," he replied. "I thought it was about time she had one. She'll be 13 next month."

            "Yes, I know that," she said, staring at the flimsy fabric with repulsion. "Nut don't you think it's a little . . . inappropriate?"

            "What are you talking about?" He held it up, admiring the triangles and pink string that qualified as the top. "It's perfect for her."

            If she was 16," Molly said incredulously. "But she's 12, Brian. She can't wear that."

           He dropped it back into the bag and looked at her. "What do you mean, she can't wear it?" He demanded.

            "She's way too young for that sort of thing."

            "That's funny," he said slowly, "because if I remember correctly you're the one who showed her how to dress up her face like a w***e."

            "What?" Molly nearly shouted. "A little mascara and lip gloss are perfectly normal for a girl her age to experiment with. But when she is ready for her first bikini, I will get it for her."

            "Oh really?" He said, staring her down. "With what money? The last time I checked, I was the one in the family who works. And I know you're all out of the money he left you," he added spitefully.

            She felt the tears burning behind her lids. Whenever he mentioned her former husband it hit her had and he knew it. A part of her would always regard him in a far more special way than Brian and he knew that as well.

            "You know I want to go to school," she said quietly.

            He scoffed. "Not that again. Look Molly, I don't want to hear about that again, okay? This summer is not going to be about you bitching and moaning – so don't bring it up again." He stood to leave. "And about the bathing suit – I'll wait until her birthday. Is that okay with you?" He sneered.

            She nodded, refusing to look him in the eyes. Sometimes his words, his voice, and his whole demeanor frightened her. It was easier to just agree with him.