#5 Not What I Expected

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#5 Not What I Expected Page 2

by Laurie Friedman


  I didn’t see how that could be possible. I know Sophie is a glass-half-full kind of girl, but honestly, she went to an art school in New York, and before that, an American School in Paris that was filled with kids of foreign diplomats. This had to pale in comparison. “What did you like best?” I asked. “The wilted lettuce on the salad bar or the unairconditioned bio lab?”

  Sophie frowned like she disapproved of my sarcasm. “I liked a lot of things, but what I liked best was that everyone was so friendly.”

  I actually laughed when she said that. “Really?”

  Sophie paused and looked at me like what she was about to say was for my benefit. “It’s a new year. New things can happen. You have to stay open to the possibilities.”

  “Sure,” I said. And I intend to. But that’s easier said than done, and much easier for Sophie than for me. She just has this way about her. The world and everyone in it (including me) likes her. Though sometimes her optimism gets on my nerves.

  Like today.

  Thursday, August 21, 6:18 p.m.

  Everyone likes Sophie

  She’s definitely the new it girl at Faraway High School. Part of it is that she’s from New York and Paris, which makes her cool. Plus, with her long dark hair and pale skin, she’s pretty in a unique way, which doesn’t hurt. But I think the reason she’s so popular is because she’s nice to everyone. Even weird people like Katia Sommers and Harry.

  I’ve gone to school with Katia my entire life, and we’ve never spoken a word to each other. That makes me sound snotty, but it’s not the case. Katia always made it clear she didn’t want anyone to talk to her. She might as well have worn a T-shirt that said: One word and I’ll deck you. All through middle school, she sat alone at lunch or assemblies, and if anybody got within a foot of her, she literally growled like a rabid dog that might bite. All week she showed up to school in full Goth black, which made her seem less approachable than ever.

  But apparently, not to Sophie. “Can we sit here?” Sophie asked Katia Tuesday at lunch. Without waiting for an answer, she plopped down next to Katia with her tray and looked at me like I should too. “You’re in my art class,” said Sophie.

  Katia glared in return, but Sophie seemed oblivious as she chatted on about oils and inks. Surprisingly, Katia relaxed into the conversation, and the three of us have been lunch buddies all week. Today, we took a fourth into our group. Harry was walking by our table with a tray and looking around like he had nowhere to go, and Sophie said, “Sit with us.”

  Harry stood there. I could tell he was too shocked to move. I’m sure he was thinking that it would be weird for him to eat lunch with a brunch of freshman girls, but Sophie scooted over and patted the empty seat next to her like she’d made room and it would be rude if Harry didn’t sit. Honestly, I think he was relieved Sophie invited him to join us.

  Then she started talking about music. In the short time she’s gotten to know Harry, I know she’s figured out that music is one of the few topics he actually likes to talk about. Harry talked for an uncharacteristically long time about a new band from Ireland that he really likes. We all thought they sounded cool, and Sophie said, “Why don’t we all get together this weekend. We can hang out and listen to their music.”

  So we made a plan, and that’s what we’re doing on Sunday, which is kind of weird because (a) Harry has been my cousin my whole life, and I’ve never hung out with him except at family gatherings, and (b) I’ve also never hung out with (or even spoken to) Katia and now we eat lunch together every day and we’re doing something this weekend.

  It’s not that I have a problem with it. Actually, I think it’s cool. It’s just weird, because Sophie showed up and brought people together in a way that wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been here, and everyone but Sophie knows that’s the case. It’s like she forgot to pick up her copy of the Faraway rule book.

  Friday, August 22, 6:08 p.m.

  I invited Billy, Brynn, and Sophie to come over after school today. That sounds so grade-school playdate-ish, but I wanted to start the year off doing something with Brynn and Billy, and I wanted them to get to know Sophie. When she moved here, everyone was busy getting ready for school, and we hadn’t really had a chance to all hang out together.

  But it didn’t turn out like I’d hoped. When we went to my room, Billy picked up the jar of lake water that he brought me back from camp two summers ago when my parents wouldn’t let me go. “I can’t believe you still have this.” He laughed, I think at the memory of when he gave it to me, which was when he asked me to go out.

  I laughed too. “I’d never get rid of a jar of Camp Silver Shores water,” I said.

  “That’s gross,” said Brynn. Then she plopped down on the floor and patted the space next to her. “Sit here,” she said to Billy. He did, but I think he only did it because it would seem like a big deal if he hadn’t. There was an uncomfortable silence.

  Billy finally broke it. “So how are you doing with your parents’ separation?” he asked Sophie.

  Brynn shot him a look. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to talk about that.” Then she changed the subject and started talking about how hard her locker is to open.

  “I actually don’t mind talking about it,” Sophie said to Brynn. “My parents are just going through a trial separation. It’s not a big deal.”

  But I knew it was a bigger deal to Sophie than she was letting on, and I think Billy knew it too. “It must be hard,” he said.

  “It is,” acknowledged Sophie. “My dad is in Paris. I miss him a lot.” Then she smiled at Billy. “Thanks for asking me about it. I guess I haven’t really talked about it much.”

  Billy smiled at her. “Glad I could help.”

  I looked at Brynn as she bit off a cuticle. She only does that when she’s nervous. Billy might have been glad he could help Sophie, but it was pretty clear Brynn wasn’t.

  Sunday, August 24, 9:17 p.m.

  In my room

  Off the phone

  Finally

  My ear hurts, which I guess isn’t surprising since I spent the last two hours on the phone.

  First, I talked to Harry. He, Sophie, Katia and I all hung out today. When they came over, I thought they’d stay maybe an hour, but one turned into five. We listened to music and then took a personality profile test we found online. At first, I was kind of upset with the results. Sophie was classified as an Idealist. Harry and Katia were both Artists, and I was a Duty Fulfiller.

  “That’s such a boring thing to be,” I said when Sophie read the results.

  “Not at all,” said Sophie. “Duty Fulfillers are loyal, faithful, and honest. Everyone likes being friends with people like that.”

  “That’s true,” said Katia, even though (a) I’m not sure she’s ever had a friend (from any category), and (b) I’m not entirely convinced I’m a Duty Fulfiller. But Harry agreed, which made me feel better about my classification, so I decided not to question it. We had a good time as we put other people we know into the personality categories.

  Anyway, Harry was just calling to ask if he’d left his sunglasses in my room.

  The next call came from Billy, who wanted to see how school is going so far. “I want a full report,” he said. It was really cool that he called, and it was fun to catch up. We talked for a long time about school and classes and teachers we like, and which ones we don’t. Then he told me he’s going to run for one of the two Student Government Association class rep positions.

  “I’m sure you’ll win,” I said. It would be impossible for him not to. He was president at the middle school and widely known as being super responsible. Everyone will vote for Billy.

  Then Brynn called. “I’m so nervous for dance team tryouts,” she said.

  I knew this was a super-sensitive topic, since I made the team last year and she didn’t. “You’ll make it,” I said. “You’re a really good dancer, and I’ll be there to cheer you on.”

  “Right,” said Brynn. “I mean, I know I’m a go
od dancer. It’s just the whole tryout thing has me a little freaked.” Whenever Brynn’s anxious, she acts like she’s more confident than she really is, so I let her comment go. I know it was just her way of making herself feel better. “You’ll do great,” I said.

  Then Brynn switched the subject. “I’ll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell.” She cleared her throat like she was about to deliver some big news. “Billy is running for SGA.”

  “Wow,” I said like it was news to me. I didn’t think I should tell Brynn that it wasn’t.

  The last call I got tonight was from Sophie. “I want to get involved in something at school,” she said.

  “You could go out for the dance team. Tryouts are this week.”

  Sophie laughed. “You know I’m a terrible dancer.”

  “How about Art League or Habitat for Humanity? Or you could join the French club.” They all seemed like good fits for her.

  “Maybe,” said Sophie, like she was considering my suggestions. “I’m just not sure what I want to do.”

  “I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I said.

  Sophie laughed again. “If I don’t, I’ll just pick something. It would be cool to do something new and totally random.”

  It was such a Sophie thing to say.

  You can tell how smart people are by what they laugh at.

  —Tina Fey

  Wednesday, August 27, 6:32 p.m.

  Post-tryouts

  Post-smoothies

  Dance tryouts were this afternoon, and Brynn made it. Since the beginning of middle school, we’ve talked about how much fun it would be to be on the team together, and I know how much she wanted it. But she did something this afternoon that makes it hard to be totally happy for her.

  I was in the gym with the rest of the team and the girls who were trying out. There were a few other kids in the gym who had come to give moral support. Everyone was hanging out, waiting for Ms. Baumann to start tryouts, when Sophie showed up.

  I was talking to Brynn and Emily and another girl on the team, Kate. Sophie spotted us and came over to our group. “I came to wish you luck,” she said to Brynn, smiling.

  “Thanks,” said Brynn in a clipped voice. Then she turned her back to Sophie and kept talking to Emily and Kate like she didn’t care if Sophie had come or not. Sophie pursed her lips. I could tell she was trying to decide what to make of Brynn’s reaction.

  When Ms. Baumann started tryouts, she asked anyone not trying out to leave, and Sophie did. But as Ms. Baumann broke the girls into groups and had them dance, I was still thinking about what had happened. It was sweet of Sophie to come and kind of cold of Brynn to not be more appreciative.

  Then, when Ms. Baumann finally announced who made the team, there was lots of screaming and hugging. I gave Brynn a big hug and so did Emily and Kate. “We should stop for smoothies on the way home,” Emily said to Brynn as the gym started to clear out.

  “Perfect!” said Emily.

  “It’ll be a celebration!” I said, smiling at Brynn and trying to keep the mood light. But when we got our smoothies and sat down, I said something to Brynn about what happened. “That was sweet of Sophie to come to wish you luck,” I said.

  “Um, I guess,” she said. Then Brynn gave me a blank look almost like she didn’t know what I was talking about.

  But I knew she knew exactly what I was talking about, and as we walked, I couldn’t look at her. She’d been mean to Sophie, plus she was hanging on Emily’s every word and laughing at all her jokes. Last year when I’d made the team and she hadn’t, she told me she didn’t like or trust Emily. Now, she’s acting like Emily is her new best friend and Sophie is her number one enemy.

  I don’t get it. Or her.

  9:42 p.m.

  Still trying to get it

  Aside from doing my algebra homework, I’ve been spending most of the night trying to figure out why Brynn acted the way she did today. It was nice of Sophie to go to tryouts. She was clearly there to support Brynn. So why was Brynn so rude to her?

  Is she jealous that I have a new friend? Did she feel threatened when Billy asked Sophie about her parent’s separation? Does she just not like her? I don’t know what her problem is, but I have to get to the bottom of it because two of my best friends can’t not like each other.

  Can they?

  10:05 p.m.

  I thought about calling Brynn and talking to her about how she treated Sophie, but Billy called to say hi and I decided to talk to him instead. “I wouldn’t read much into it. She was probably just nervous about tryouts,” he said when I told him what I happened.

  I should have known Billy would defend Brynn. “That’s probably it,” I said. But I wasn’t convinced.

  When I hung up with Billy, I called Sophie. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t upset. But when I brought up what happened, all she said was that it was no big deal and that I shouldn’t be worried about it because she’s not.

  Sophie is always honest, but I had a feeling this time was an exception to the rule.

  Thursday, August 27, 9:45 p.m.

  Supposed to be studying for bio test

  Brain elsewhere

  This afternoon I asked Sophie if she wanted to come over to study together for our bio test tomorrow, but her head was clearly somewhere else, because the way she answered was, “I decided I’m going to run for SGA.”

  “Student Government Association?”

  Sophie laughed. “That’s what it stands for.” She waited. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said honestly.

  “I know it will be hard to win,” said Sophie. “There are only two freshman spots, and I don’t know who all is going to run. Plus, I’m the new girl. It’s not like everybody knows me yet. But I really want to do this. Even if I don’t win, I’ll meet a lot of people.” She paused for me to take in her reasoning. “There’s a meeting next week for anyone who wants to run. I’m going to sign up. I think it’s a good idea.”

  “Me too,” I said encouragingly. Sophie should try if that’s what she wants to do. She’s new and that makes her a long shot to win, although if anyone can do it, she can.

  But as Sophie chatted on, I couldn’t help thinking about what Brynn’s reaction will be when she hears Sophie is doing the same thing as Billy. She should be cool with it, but she’s weirdly territorial about Billy. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

  I don’t think it will be. Unless Sophie wins.

  Tuesday, September 2, 7:09 p.m.

  Tonight when I was walking Gilligan, I saw Matt walking Matilda. “What’s up?” he asked as he walked toward me.

  How was I supposed to answer that question? I hadn’t spoken to him since late July, when we broke up. “Not much.” I hoped my voice sounded neutral.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “How do you like high school?”

  “Good.” I appreciated that he was asking, but mostly, I just wanted to go back into my house.

  “How’s dance?” Three questions. For Matt, that was a record.

  I told him that our first competition was at the end of the month, and then we were performing at Homecoming in October and had the dance show in November.

  “Cool,” he said when I finished. Then he laughed, at what I don’t know. I didn’t think anything I’d just told him was humorous.

  Maybe he was stalling, waiting for me to ask how he was doing, but I didn’t. The words just wouldn’t come out of my mouth.

  “See ya,” he said, like bumping into each other was no big deal.

  “See ya,” I said like it was no big deal for me either. And surprisingly, it wasn’t. I thought it would be weird or uncomfortable seeing him, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. End of story.

  I don’t even know why I’m writing about it.

  You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view …. Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.

  —Harper Lee, To Kill a
Mockingbird

  Thursday, September 11, 7:45 p.m.

  I hate politics

  Everyone I know is obsessed with the SGA race. The elections are tomorrow, and it’s pretty much the only thing anyone has been talking about all week. At least the people I know.

  Sophie has been talking about it nonstop. Ever since she signed up to run, she’s been on a campaign to meet everyone in our class, which isn’t an easy thing to do since there are 337 freshman. All week long she has been passing out campaign stickers that look like lottery tickets with the slogan: Take a chance on the new girl.

  Today was the first time all week she stopped to eat lunch instead of just grabbing a snack on her way to fifth period. “What do you think my chances are?” she asked Katia, Harry, and me as she sat down at the table with us.

  “You’re gonna win,” said Katia. I’m not surprised she said that. She and Sophie are in art together, and they have a whole group of friends who already promised they’d vote for Sophie.

  Harry agreed. “Most of the kids who are running are losers or freaks.”

  Sophie laughed. “You hardly know them.”

  “I don’t want to know them,” said Harry.

  Sophie ignored Harry’s cynicism and looked at me. “April, what do you think?”

  The truth was that there was no way to know who would win. Billy would definitely get one spot, but there are six kids running for two spots. I’d like to believe a girl would get the other spot, and since three are running, I think Sophie’s chances are probably equal to theirs. “You could definitely win,” I said.

  Sophie sighed. “That sounds like a diplomatic way of saying I might not.”

 

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