“Turn the other cheese smeared cheek, huh?” Sofia asked, furious to find that her voice was wobbling.
She felt betrayed. They might not agree with her, but she had thought that they would at least listen.
She rubbed at her suddenly stinging eyes and got up from the table so fast her chair turned over. Running up the stairs she hoped she’d make it to her room before her parents could see that she was crying. She always cried when she got frustrated or angry and she hated it.
She closed the door with a bang and threw herself on the bed. She was aware that she was acting like a ten year-old throwing a temper tantrum, but she was too tired and furious to care. If anything it made her angrier.
She pressed her face deep into the pillow in a vain attempt to suffocate herself as the tears slowly made their way down her cheeks. She only succeeded in smearing tears and snot all over her face.
She couldn’t even block out the muffled voices of her parents on the landing outside her room a minute later. She guessed they were debating which one of them should go in. She wished she had a lock on her door. That was it. She was finding a lock for it first thing tomorrow. Or a nice sturdy chair she could put under the door handle.
Her mother walked in and quietly sat next to her on the bed.
“Sofia,” she began carefully.
“Get out of my room!” Sofia demanded, pushing her face deeper into the pillow.
“Sofia, stop it. What has gotten into you?” her mother asked, gently stroking her back. Sofia fought the urge to push her hand away. Her mother didn’t respond well to being pushed away.
“Honey? Talk to me.”
Sofia raised her wet and red face from the pillow. “Talk to you? What is the point? You don’t listen! I told you I never meant to start a fight and you still act as if I were a… a … a delinquent,” she said and had to make a pause and wipe some more tears off of her face. “I told you I didn’t want to come here in the first place yet here I am and it’s worse than I imagined!”
She pushed her head back into the pillow.
Her mother kept remarkably still. “I didn’t know you hated it so much here,” she finally said.
“No, you wouldn’t know because you don’t listen,” Sofia muttered from within the depths of her pillow.
“I’m sorry. It’s been so much to do with everything lately,” her mother said and ran her fingers through Sofia’s hair. “You always said you wanted an adventure.”
“This is not an adventure. An adventure has interesting places and car chases and… and treasures in it. This … this sucks,” Sofia said and finally pushed the hand away.
“I know it’s not what you wanted, but you’re going to have to try to hang in there and not do anything stupid until everything has worked itself out. It will get better, I promise. Your dad and I will make it up to you,” her mother said and took up stroking her hair again.
“Mom, I don’t want to be here. Just let me go home? Please? I’ll live with granny,” Sofia pleaded.
“Oh Sofia, I can’t have you on the other end of the world, all alone. You know that.”
“I wouldn’t be alone, I’d be fine mom,” she said exasperatedly for what had to be the hundredth time.
“I know you would. It’s not you I’m worried about. You know how your father gets…”
“I heard that!” her father said from the door, finally daring to enter the room.
Her mother smiled at him before turning back to her daughter and kiss her on the cheek “…and I’d never survive without you.”
“We love you, sweetie, but we don’t want you to make a habit of chucking things in people’s heads, okay? This is not like you at all. Principal Thisbe’s’ call came as a shock,” her father told her reproachfully.
“We can’t have you being called to the principal’s office,” her mother agreed.
Her father sat down on the bed beside her. “Next time some guy is acting up, just kick him in the crotch when no one’s watching.”
“Fredrik!”
“What? She can’t be sent to the principal’s office if no one sees her do it.”
Sofia tried to suppress a smile. The idea of kicking any part of Thomas cheered her up. He’d had looked completely stunned after that hamburger hit him. She’d liked that look on him.
Her mother shook her head, but the corners of her mouth were twitching. “I guess your aggressive father has a point. Not that I support violence.”
“You admit that I have a point? That must be a first. Let’s celebrate that with ice cream!”
Sofia sat up in her bed, still sniveling. “I want the chocolate chip one.”
“Then you had better hurry!” her father said and rushed towards the stairs.
Sofia got out of her bed in hot pursuit.
“Don’t run down the stairs!” her mother called after them.
9
Assigned
The next few days went by without any more incidents and Sofia was slowly getting used to the stares that followed her as she walked through the hallways. She forced a smile and, for the first time, managed to make her way to her locker without a single wrong turn.
It was Friday which meant that she would soon be able to spend two whole days with her friends here and back home without any unpleasant interruptions. She could hardly wait.
”Hey, Fia!”
Sofia turned from her open locker in direction of the voice. Denise came jogging up to her. Sofia grinned widely at her panting friend.
After the events leading up to and culminating in she and her friends spending three hours cleaning the canteen, the rest of her fellow students were looking at her with suspicion mixed with an emotion she couldn’t define. Sometimes she was certain that it was admiration, other times she could have sworn it was disgust. Well, unless Jock was next to her. Then it was definitely envy.
Denise, however, had been genuinely impressed despite having to mop melted cheese of the floor. She had spent most of their time cleaning up telling Sofia she ought to try out for the school team in basketball.
Apparently that hamburger throw had been the best lob she had seen in years. Sofia had pointed out that Denise had already seen her play and not been impressed to which Denise replied that, clearly, Sofia had just been lacking the right incentives.
Now her friend leaned on the locker next to hers and seemed unable to speak.
“Are you okay?”
“Don’t make me talk for a while or I’ll have an asthma attack.”
Sofia laughed. She had only known Denise for a few weeks, but certain characteristics, such as time optimism, were already becoming familiar. Today she’d missed their entire home room session.
“Cutting it close again are we?”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to. I’m getting in shape for the basketball season, is all. We have a game tonight.”
“I remember. I’ll be there,” Sofia promised and closed the door to her locker. “You got social studies now as well?”
Denise shook her head, her face red.
“No, I have biology. It’s in the other end of school so this is me being sociable before sprinting on,” Denise told her.
“Oh. Well, see you at lunch?” Sofia asked her and tried not to feel disappointed. It was still a frightening experience to go to a class full of strangers and having Denise beside her helped more than she wanted to admit.
“Don’t worry. They won’t tear you apart. Much,” Denise said, smiling.
Sofia blushed. Was she that transparent?
“Right, must go back to the workout, sure is tough being an athlete. See you at lunch!” Denise told her and headed off again.
Sofia shook her head at the speed the girl picked up in the packed corridor, pushing people out of her way. Within a few seconds she was out of sight.
Sofia set out for her classroom at a much slower pace, map in hand.
“You won’t need that with me, babe,” Jock said and pulled the map from her hands. “I’m like
a live GPS.”
“Why are you always taking things from me?”
“Because you shouldn't have to carry things on your own. I’m taking care of you,” he said and placed a kiss on her lips. “Give me your bag.”
Sofia considered refusing, but couldn’t work up the energy for it. She handed over her bag. “Don’t you have class?”
“I do, but I take my boyfriend duties seriously so I’ll escort you to yours first,” he said and took a look at her schedule. He frowned. “Social studies?”
“Yeah, the first one for the semester. They finally found a teacher. Do you take it?”
“Nah, but Jefferson’s in it.”
Sofia’s entire body tensed up. “Terrific,” she muttered.
“I told you I’d beat him up for you, if you want.”
That made her laugh. She smiled at him and slung her arm around his hips. “Don’t tempt me.”
The Social studies class had been cancelled the previous weeks due to the teacher quitting just before the start of the semester. That made this the first class this year, and Thomas was intent on making a good first impression. Social Studies was the one class that was majorly important for the Krümper scholarship he was after. Naturally, he had overslept.
As he jumped out of bed and threw his clothes on, he cursed the local radio station that, for some unfathomable reason, had chosen to play Mozart this morning instead of its normal RnB junk. How was anyone supposed to wake up to classical music?
He sprayed himself with deodorant in lieu of a shower and spent five minutes running around his room, stuffing things into his bag.
“Mom wants to know if you’re going to have breakfast.”
Thomas jumped and turned around to see his little brother standing in the doorway. John looked perfectly calm and put together, his clothes straight and his hair combed. Oh no! His hair! Thomas ran his fingers through it and cursed under his breath. It was a mess.
“Tom? Breakfast?”
“Right, right. I’ll be down in a minute,” Thomas muttered as he tried to find a comb.
“You’re late, you know.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“Will you get detention?”
Thomas looked over at John. His brother might only be twelve years old, but Thomas swore he sometimes acted like a mini senior citizen.
“I won’t get detention.”
“Are you sure? Daddy got so mad last time.”
Thomas suppressed a shiver as he recalled what had happened years earlier when he’d gotten detention after punching a guy from an opposing team down on the pitch. His dad had been livid.
Thomas was surprised his brother would remember that. Looking at John gnawing on his bottom lip, he wished his brother hadn’t.
“I won’t get detention,” he said again, more forcefully this time. “They don’t give you detention for being late.”
Well, not exactly. Not unless you were really late. Like, really, really, really late. He checked his watch and felt his stomach drop.
“Do you promise?”
“Cross my heart,” Thomas replied solemnly.
John’s worried face cracked into a grin and Thomas reached out to ruffle his hair.
“Not the hair!” John complained when he mussed it up.
Thomas laughed as John dodged his hand and tried to elbow him in the side.
“Hey, I made it better.”
John shook his head and straightened his clothes with a scowl. “Yeah, right.”
“Don’t you trust your big brother?”
John snorted before heading back down the stairs. “You need to hurry if you want to eat. Mom and I are leaving now.”
“I’ll be down in a minute,” Thomas said as he turned around and grabbed his backpack and his sports bag.
This was a great way to start the day. The new teacher would be delighted, he thought as he rushed down the stairs and grabbed the breakfast sandwich and lunch bag his mother had prepared for him before running out the door and throwing himself into his car.
He devoured the sandwich as he drove to school, finishing it as he parked. He glanced in the mirror and brushed the crumbs of his face and clothes before getting out of the car and hurrying to the class room.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said breathlessly, trying not to blush as the whole class stared at him when he cleared the door to the classroom minutes later.
The teacher –Mr. Gilmore it said on the white board–frowned, but nodded to him so Thomas quickly moved towards his usual seat in the middle of the room.
He was halfway there he noticed that someone else was already sitting there. Someone with auburn hair and a look of total disgust on her face. He stopped dead and looked around, trying desperately to find a new chair. To his great annoyance the only seat available was the one next to his old one.
Cursing the 18th century musical genius for the umpteenth time he sat down. He made certain that he didn’t so much as glance in her direction. In fact, he moved his chair as far away from hers as he could.
”Like I said,” Mr. Gilmore continued with another disapproving glance at Thomas, “this semester we will work in pairs to study a field of business or a company that is of great importance to our community. You will present your findings through a lecture, film or something else that we agree upon…”
”We get to choose who we’re gonna work with, don’t we?”
Mr. Gilmore looked at the name tag of the person who had interrupted him. Neil Hammerson. Thomas was grateful that he no longer was the one Mr. Gilmore was glaring at.
”No, you won’t, Mr. Hammerson. I’ll decide,” he said.
This was met with loud objections from the class. The more they protested, though, the more Mr. Gilmore dug his heels in.
”Soon you will be adults and you won’t always have the possibility to choose your team. You will have to be able to work with people who aren’t necessarily your friends,” Mr. Gilmore lectured them.
”But we’ll be graded!”
”Correct, Neil. So you better learn to cooperate quickly. You have a common goal and the entire semester to get to know each other better.”
“Isn’t it easier if we team up? How else will you decide on the pairs?” a girl in the front row asked levelly.
“Hear, hear!” the rest of the class shouted.
Mr. Gilmore grinned. “Thank you for your concern, Ms. Mitchell. However, this will not be a problem as I already have a list. That’s right,” he continued when the class simultaneously groaned. “I come prepared. That’s a quality you might want to emulate in your studies. Now, be quiet.”
Still muttering, the students reluctantly settling down as Mr. Gilmore pulled out a list from his briefcase.
Thomas was relieved. It could have been worse, much worse. Mr. Gilmore could have divided them into pairs after where they were sitting. Thomas felt confident he could work with everyone in the class. Everyone except one.
”Let’s see…” Mr. Johnson said and checked his list.”… Mary Langdon and Tonia Crest.”
As names were called and students complained, Thomas held his fingers crossed and sent up a quick prayer.
Sometime later Mr. Gilmore called:” Thomas Jefferson. And he will be working with… Sofia Hansson”.
The whole class went silent. By now they had all heard about the incident by the lockers, the library and at the movies. Not to mention what had gone down in the canteen.
Thomas was a bit of a school celebrity and this new borderline behavior of his was being followed with great interest. He’d heard Dave and Wayne taking bets on the next time he was going to mess up and if, when it happened, it would land him in detention. Or get him thrown off the baseball team.
He cleared his throat and tried to think of a polite way to refuse, but Sofia beat him to it.
”That last pair won’t work”, she said carefully.
”Is that so?” Mr. Gilmore said, leaning leisurely against his desk.
”We can’t eve
n pass each other in the hallway without… things… happening. We’re too different.”
Thomas looked at her in surprise. “That’s the first intelligent thing I’ve heard you say,” he told her, not bothering to lower his voice.
”Puts me way ahead of you then,” Sofia replied, holding his gaze.
The rest of the class pulled back in unison. Mr. Gilmore merely smiled.
”Too bad… for you. The next team will be made out of…”
”But, sir, we won’t be able to decide a topic! We don’t agree on anything!” Thomas said desperately.
This was too much. He could practically see the ’D’ on his grade already. She would ruin the project just to get to him and then his best shot at a scholarship not based solely on his baseball skills would be destroyed.
Mr. Gilmore was getting annoyed. It was easy to tell from the throbbing vein on his forehead and the way he flicked the pen in his hand as if he wished he could throw it at his students.
”Ah, well, with that I may be of assistance. You will examine television as a media. Their methods and the impact they have on peoples’ lives. Does TV still have a role to play? Is the internet taking over completely? Etcetera, etcetera. Now, the next team is…” he continued with a furious glare that promised severe retribution to anyone who dared interrupt.
Thomas glanced at the person sitting next to him and with whom he would now have to spend a vast amount of time. Sofia, in turn, glanced at the person beside her and wondered who exactly she had killed in a previous life to deserve this. Their gazes met briefly and slid back to the surface of their tables where someone had carved obscene words. They sighed in unison.
”How are we going to present it?” Sofia asked, forcing herself to speak with a calm voice.
It was three o’clock in the afternoon and all her classes were finally over. She should have been in the library, getting her homework done while waiting for Denise’s game to start, but for some unfathomable reason she had agreed to stay in school to discuss the outlay of their social study project with Thomas. This was obviously not the smartest thing she’d ever done.
Fractured (Unreel series Book 1) Page 9