Chapter Ten

***There is much explicit content near the end of the chapter, regarding sexual activities, but not exactly intercourse.***

 

Chapter Ten

            Sophie knew that had it not been for the school play and drama club, or the upcoming football game, Jillian and Oliver would have certainly disproved of her new friends. But with their schedules so hectic, they barely noticed what Sophie was doing in her own spare time. Though when the night of Oliver's first game finally arrived, Jillian was surprised to go to Sophie's house and find no one home. She reluctantly went to the game alone, only to spot her friend's unmistakable golden head under the bleachers with a group of people.

            She was about to go and investigate when someone tapper her shoulder. She turned around to see Oliver standing before her in his football gear, sans the helmet.

            "Hi," he said, positively glowing. "Where's our girl?"

            She forced a smile. "Oh, she's around here somewhere. But don't worry – I'll find her before the game starts."

            "Thanks."

            She waited until he returned to the gym doors and then took a deep breath before going under the bleachers.

            As she approached the group, they all stopped talking at once and fixed her with blank, uninterested stares, she ignored them, looking straight at the back of Sophie's head.

            "Hey," she said, touching her arm.

            Sophie spun around and smiled, looking considerably different from the last time Jillian had seen her. When had that been – two, three weeks ago? The only class they had together was study hall and when Jillian wasn't at the auditorium practicing, Sophie was skipping class. And during lunch, Oliver was usually in the weight room while Jillian was helping out with the play.

            And now it felt like she hadn't seen Sophie in ages. She was still the beautiful girl she remembered, but now with unnecessarily dark makeup around her emerald eyes and with her hair thrown up in an unkempt ponytail. Her wardrobe had also changed considerably in such a short time. Gone were her favorite pink sundresses and skirts. Now she was wearing a pair of tight jeans paired with a tight black mid-drift baring tank top.

            "Hi," Sophie said, throwing her arms around Jillian's neck in a tight hug. "What're you doing here?"

            "It's Oliver's first game," Jillian said pointedly. "Remember – we were supposed to come together?"

            "Oh – right! I remember now," Sophie replied. But it was obvious that she didn't. And it was even more obvious how stoned she was.

            "Well, do you want to go watch the game with me?" Jillian asked.

            Sophie glanced at Tara and the others, who were looking at them curiously. Then she looked back at Jillian with a bright smile.

            "Okay," she said. "I'll meet you on the bleachers."

            Jillian looked at her uncertainly. "Okay," she said anyway. "See you in a few, I guess."

            As soon as she was out of earshot, ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Tara burst out laughing. "Who was that loser?" She asked.

            "Just a friend," Sophie replied, no longer as stoned as she'd been before. "I sort of told her I'd watch the game with her."

            Max frowned. "Why?" He asked in his quiet voice that was beginning to annoy the Hell out of her. "You don't even like football games."

            She shrugged. "Maybe I do."

            "Whatever," Tara said, quickly growing bored with the topic. "You coming over after? You'll never believe what I found in my mom's makeup bag."

            "I'll give you a hint," Haley said. "It's like not weed for once and like so much easier to take.

            Sophie smiled, confused but intrigued. "What is it?"

            Bobby smiled, leaning forward to place an intimate kiss on her ear. "You're gonna love it," he promised. "It's gonna take you places you've never been."

            She smiled and pulled back a little. She didn't really like him – not as a boyfriend or anything – but God was he good with his mouth . . . and hands . . .

            "I'll be over later," she said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Bye, guys."

            She found Jillian on the bottom row of the bleachers.

            "Hey," she said, settling down next to her.

            "Hi." Jillian refused to make eye contact, instead staring straight ahead at the field, where the visiting team was warming up.

            "What's wrong?" Sophie asked, genuinely confused.

            "Nothing," she replied stiffly. "I'm just watching the game."

            "Jill, come on –."

            Finally Jillian looked at her. "What were you doing with those people?" She asked. "What's happening to you? And to us?"

            "Nothing," Sophie assured her. "We're best friends. That's not going to change. Jill, we've all made new friends this year. But the three of us are always gonna be together."

            Jillian couldn't help smiling. "Really?"

            "Of course." Sophie put an arm around her and squeezed. And as Oliver and his teammates exploded onto the field, Sophie knew in her heart that she was right. They were obviously going off into their own directions, but they would always have their summers. Of that, at least, Sophie could be sure.

            After the game, the three of them went out for pizza. It was just like always, with their joking, flirting, and teasing. But afterwards, with the time nearing ten o'clock, Jillian announced that she had to be home right away to get a good night's sleep for play rehearsal tomorrow, and Oliver informed them that he had practice the following morning.

            So Sophie walked alone to Tara's apartment, which was located above a Laundromat. She hurried up the narrow stairs, holding her breath so as not to detect the permanent stench of urine that plagued the hall.

            She knocked on the door, waited a few minutes, and was about to knock again when Tara flung it open.

            "Hi!" She exclaimed. She was obviously high on something, clad in only a warn robe, which was open to reveal her mismatching bra and panties. And her pupils were so dilated that Sophie could barely make out the actual color of her eyes.

            "Hi," Sophie said uneasily. It was so much easier to deal with Tara when she was messed up too.

            "Come in, silly." Tara stood back to allow her in.

            Sophie went straight to her room, where everyone was already good and stoned. Everyone, including Haley's boyfriend Sam, who – Sophie had learned – was an even bigger dope head than Haley.

            Bobby looked up from the CD case he was studying. "Hey!" He smiled at Sophie. "I've been waiting all night for you."

            She smiled, trying her best to hide her annoyance. One almost blowjob and he thinks they're together. Boys! She'd never understand them.

            Tara came in and closed the door behind her. "Okay, you guys. Who wants to watch our little Sophie get fucked up?"

            Haley was too busy making out with her boyfriend to notice anything, Max was in his own little world, sitting off in the corner, Mikey was drawing something on the wall, and Bobby was just staring at Sophie. No one had heard Tara but that of course didn't stop her from setting Sophie down on the floor and holding a small tray out to her.

            "What –?" Sophie started to say, but stopped when she saw what was on the tray. Two neat little lines of cocaine. And, of course, the requisite rolled up dollar bill.

            "What do you think?" Tara said, cocking an eyebrow. "Ready for the big leagues, babe?"

            Sophie glanced down at the intimidating powder, then at the obviously horny Bobby, and then at the encouraging Tara. She felt so uptight, so uncomfortable. Surely two little lines could only make her feel better? She picked up the dollar bill and, before she could think twice about it, she snorted both lines.

            "That's my girl," Tara said proudly.

            "Doesn't that feel good?" Bobby asked her.

            Before she could reply, the door burst open and a tall, Amazonian bottle blonde stood in the doorway. It was Tara's mother, 34 year old Melanie who Sophie had only seen once, passed out in the living room.

            "You little b***h!" She shrieked, marching into the room. "Di you have to take all of it – huh?" She grabbed Tara by the back of her hair and yanked her head back. "Answer me, you little s**t. Why did you go into my personal belongings and take my stuff?"

            "I didn't!" Tara lied.

            Her mother pushed her hard, causing her to fall backwards, onto Haley and Sam on the floor.

            "What the f**k –?" Haley pulled away from Sam and for the first time noticed Tara's mother. "Oh." She pushed Sam away and pulled her shirt down over her chest.

            "Oh, this is real nice," Melanie said angrily. She looked around the room. "All of you – get out! Get the f**k out of my house." She looked at Tara. "Is this where my coke went – to your little shithead friends?" She demanded.

            "No," Tara insisted. "We didn't do anything."

            "Don't you lie to me!" Melanie yelled. "Is there any left? Answer me, Tara – is there any of my Goddamned coke left?!"

            Bobby got up and hurried Sophie out before they could witness any more of Tara's mother's tirade. Out on the street, Max and Mikey went off down a side street, Haley and Sam waved good-bye before crossing the main street to go to her house, and Bobby grabbed Sophie's hand, hurrying after his brother and Max.

            "Where are we going" Sophie asked, paranoia setting in thanks to her first two lines of cocaine. "And what's Tara's mom going to do to her? And why isn't there anyone outside?" She looked around the empty streets fearfully. "Bobby, where are we?" She asked, clinging to his arm.

            He strode along, enjoying his role as her protector. "It's okay, babe," he said easily. "We're just going to my house. I'll sneak you into my room."

            "Okay," she said. Was that a bat she saw flying overhead? "Let's hurry."

            Bobby and Mikey lived with their father and schizophrenic mother in a dilapidated ranch-style house. As Bobby snuck Sophie into his room, his mother emerged from hers, wide-eyed.

            "What're you doing, Bobby boy?" She asked urgently. "You hiding someone in there?" She tried to peer over his shoulder, into his room, but he quickly shut the door.

            "Ma, just go back to bed," he replied. "It's fine."

            As he got rid of her, Sophie wandered aimlessly around the room, running her fingertips over his small TV, disheveled bed, bookshelf filled with comic books. She just felt so good. And everything felt so amazing under her fingers.

            When Bobby finally came in he locked the door and brought her down on the bed with him, immediately kissing her on every exposed part of her body. She giggled and found herself unable to stop. Bobby, irritated, slapped a hand over her mouth to quiet her as she continued to giggle.

            Her trip lasted exactly three hours, during which she succeeding in annoying Bobby so much that he couldn't even get it up while they were making out in his bed. Every ten minutes or so, she pulled away to giggle about something or demand what this noise or that was. When she finally came down, he was too tired to make out anymore, but she climbed on top of him and put her hands into his boxers, stroking and kneading. She wasn't going to be forgotten so easily.

It didn't take long for him to grow hard and want her with a sudden urgency he hadn't expressed before. He switched their positions and expertly pulled off her shirt. As his lips moved over her breasts, and his tongue flicked out, she arched her back, prompting him to go further.

His hand traveled down her stomach, to the waistband of her jeans, and while still kissing her, he unbuttoned and unzipped them. This time she didn't stop him. She felt a strange desire between her legs and did want to see how far he'd go. After all, Bobby was virtually harmless and if she wanted to stop him, it would be easy enough.

As his hand moved her panties aside and explored further, she thrusted up in time to the motion of his hand. Then all of a sudden it happened. An explosion of pleasure, so intense that her body shuddered for moments after. He pulled his hand out of her pants and rolled over onto his back.

His hands clasped firmly behind his head, he looked at her expectantly. She looked at him, her gaze flicking over the tent in his shorts. She knew what he wanted. She also knew that it gave her a certain power. It was positively intoxicating. She moved over him, freed his erection, and ran her tongue over it in quick movements.

He moaned softly, making her smile. Boys were so easy.

That school year, Sophie, Jillian, and Oliver over went many changes. However one thing that – shockingly enough – remained constant was their friendship. Football or not, theater or not, and drugs or not, they found it hard to ever desert each other completely.

Then, in March, Sophie's mother finally became pregnant. And if they weren't incredibly self-involved before, Molly and Brian now virtually ignored the very presence of Sophie. But she was past caring about gaining the attention and love of her parents. And the announcement of Molly's pregnancy barely even fazed her. Likewise, they were minimally concerned with the actions of Sophie. Her curfew was rarely enforced and, as it was, she was only ever home to sleep and shower.

By June, when Molly's body was beginning to really undergo the hormonal changes that carrying a baby brought, she'd taken to staying in bed often. Her nausea was at its peak and there was little she could do, it seemed, to gain back any of her energy. So when Sophie crept in one night at 1AM, Molly was soundly asleep in her own room down the hall.

Sophie quietly closed her bedroom door and breathed a sigh of relief. She'd made it – safely and stealthily – to her room. Though just as she was reaching for the switch in the wall, her bedside lamp went on, flooding the room with dim light.

"What –?" Sophie started to say, but stopped when she saw the culprit sitting on her bed.

"Good evening," Brian said, looking as handsome and hateful as ever in a dark blue designer suit. "Or, should I say, good morning."

She dropped her bag on the floor and went to her vanity to wipe off her makeup. "What do you want?" She asked without looking at him. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"

"A dinner meeting ran late,' he replied. "Not that I owe you any sort of explanation." He stood up, slowly walked toward her. "And as for what I want . . ." He trailed off as his hands began massaging her shoulders.

She shook him off, moving away from him.

"What's the matter?" He asked innocently. "Isn't this what you want? I know you've missed me, Sophie. Don't think I haven't noticed you staring at me whenever we're in the same room." He moved toward her. "And don't think I haven't been noticing you. Growing up before my eyes . . ." His eyes swept over her hungrily. "I've missed you too, sweetheart."

His lips crushed down on hers as he pressed his body urgently against her.

With all of her strength, she pushed him away.

"Stop it!" She cried. "Just leave me alone – I like it when you leave me alone. Don't you get it? Ever since you . . . ever since my thirteenth birthday. And why now, after almost two years of ignoring me? Why are you trying to do it again?"

He laughed quietly. "Because I can," he replied simply. "Because my wife is bedridden and carrying my child. Because you're such an obvious s**t that no one would ever believe you." He leaned close and whispered in her ear. "Because it was so great the first time."

She attempted to get away but he pinned her up against the wall, shoving his hand up her miniskirt.

"Stop," she pleaded, hating the whine and fear in her voice. "Please – don't."

"Shhh." He brushed a lock of hair from her eyes and kissed her hard before pushing her down onto the bed.

It was then that she remembered/ A week-long fling with a 20 year old mechanic that year. He'd collected knives and had proudly given her a pink-jeweled butterfly knife as a gift. For protection, he had said. At the time, Sophie had laughed. Where did he think they were – Detroit? But she'd kept it hidden under her pillow for protection against the only monster she knew – who was assaulting her at this very moment.

As he climbed on top of her, Sophie reached under the pillow and pulled out the blade in one swift move.

Brian jumped back. "Whoa – what the Hell is that?"

"A knife," she replied, holding it out as she sat up. "And I won't hesitate to use it if you ever come near me again."

"You're crazy," he said, standing up and straightening his tie. "You know what you are Sophie? You're just a little w***e." He spat on the floor. "And I'm glad I didn't give it to you again."

As soon as he was gone, she jumped out of bed and stripped off her clothes. She couldn't seem to get his smell off of her. And when she lay back down, the pillow stunk of him. She threw it across the room angrily, but ended up lying on the floor anyway. And, as so many times before, she cried herself to sleep.