Sophie's Different (James Madison Series Book 3)

by Patrick Hodges

  “Well, Centralia's a big place, Soph. I've seen her a few times, even talked to her once, but it wasn't for very long. She told me she'd call me sometime, but she hasn't yet.”

  I sighed, my hand drifting over the pocket of my jeans where I'd shoved the tissue-wrapped pill fragment. “That's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about, actually.” Looking around the room, I absently asked, “Is your dad home?”

  “No, he left an hour ago to do his workout, and then he's going right back to the precinct.”

  “What about your stepmom?” Kelsey's dad recently got remarried, to a lady who worked as a dispatcher down at her dad's police station. I'd never met her.

  “Katherine's already at work, and my stepsister Bethany started at NAU last month. So it's just me, as usual. Why?”

  “I was hoping I could talk to both you and your dad about Kirsten.”

  Her face crinkled into a concerned frown. “Oh? What's up?”

  I explained to her about Kirsten's struggles in her Trig class, her moodiness, her paranoia, her mysterious relationship with Duncan, and how he was “helping” her. I then brought the tissue out of my pocket, carefully unwrapped it, and tipped the pill fragment into Kelsey's outstretched hand.

  “Where'd you find this?” she asked, more than a little alarmed.

  “In a plastic bag behind her desk. I have no idea what it is. It may have something to do with her behavior, but for all I know, there could be a completely innocent explanation.”

  “I hope that's true,” she said, turning the fragment over in her hand.

  “Do you know who this Duncan guy is?”

  “No, I don't. Like I said, Centralia's a big place. But you said he rides around on a dirt bike, so I think we can assume he's not old enough to drive. I've seen a few underclassmen hanging around just outside school grounds with some older boys … you know, the kind of boys our parents tell us to stay the hell away from.”

  I gasped. “You mean, drug dealers?”

  “Yeah,” she said flatly. “If this Duncan is one of their dealers, he shouldn't be too hard to track down. I've got a ton of friends I can ask, and I'm sure one of them will know who he is.”

  “Any way we can find out what this is?” I pointed to the pill in Kelsey's hand.

  She stared at it, exhaling. “Well, there's not much here. You'd need someone with access to a laboratory with the right equipment to identify it based on such a small sample.”

  “Will your dad help?”

  “He might, but I'd have to be vague about where I got it, and he hates it when I do that. Once a detective, always a detective, you know?” She gave me a wry smirk.

  “But you'll do it? You'll ask him?”

  “Yeah, I will.” She took the tissue from my hand and wrapped the fragment back up in it. “I can't guarantee he'll help, but I'll ask.”

  “Whatever you can do, I appreciate it,” I said, relieved.

  “No problemo. Now, was there something else you wanted to talk about? You told me on the phone that there were 'a couple of things' you needed my help on.”

  I then told Kelsey everything I knew about the suspicious activities of Ayden's co-resident, Ron. I used my phone to show her the documents Ayden had photographed, and played the recording of Ron's conversation with his girlfriend, which Ayden sent me last night.

  “Jeez, Soph,” she said after I finished, rubbing her forehead. “I remember when you were just this little hug-monster I rode the bus with. Your life sure got exciting, didn't it?”

  I harrumphed. “Oh, Kelsey, I haven't told you half the crap I've had to deal with this year. Nothing on the level of an international hitman, but still pretty dramatic stuff.”

  She looked puzzled for a second, and then laughed. “Well, holy cow, I would hope not! And he wasn't a hitman, exactly, but he was still a scary guy.” She sighed. “I'm happy to say, high school's been pretty normal so far. Just stupid things like midterms, driver's licenses, term papers, curfews … you know, same old, same old.”

  “Sounds like fun,” I said. “Tell me … do high-school boys act any better than middle-school boys do?”

  “Some do,” she replied. “Most don't.”

  “You got someone?”

  “Not at the moment. There was a guy this past spring, but … it didn't work out. How about you?”

  “Moi?” I cried, trying to act hilariously shocked. “Oh, yeah, I'm fighting them off with a stick.”

  She laughed. “Seriously, though, nobody?”

  “Kelsey …” I turned away, looking at my shoes. “I'm not like you. I don't have tons of friends. I've got Riss and Shell and Ayden and a few others, but everyone else … they just think I'm a loser. Plus, I've had the popular girls on my back ever since the school year started.”

  She shook her head. “Some things never change, huh?”

  “No, they don't.” I briefly explained the problems I'd been having with the Coven, from being paired with Drew to the nasty looks I was still getting from Alexis.

  Kelsey face was scrunched up in worry as I finished, so I tried to put her mind at ease. “But you know what? It's all good. Truth is, I don't really care what people like that think or say about me. I love my friends, and …” I winked at her, “… I got the lead in the school play next month.”

  “What?!” she cried, her mouth dropping open. She flung her arms around me in another bear-hug. “That's fantastic! Wow! What play?”

  “Peter Pan,” I said proudly. “I'm Wendy, and Ayden is playing Peter.”

  She was grinning from ear to ear. “I'm so proud of you, Soph. When's the performance?”

  “Saturday after Thanksgiving. Why?”

  She put her hands on her hips in mock-indignation. “Duh! So I can come!”

  I quirked an eyebrow at her. “Are you messing with me?”

  She put her hands on my shoulders. “Just text me the date and time, and I'll be there. Gotta support my girl.”

  I smiled again, and I could feel my emotions welling up. I stared into Kelsey's amazing brown eyes, touched by her show of friendship. “I've missed you, Kelse,” I said softly, a tear making its way to my eye.

  “Missed you too, Soph,” she said, and we hugged again.

  The memory of a similar hug we shared, years ago, flashed through my brain. A hug we shared the day two very special people exited our lives for good. Meeting her gaze again, I felt a tear streak down my face.

  “What is it, Soph?”

  “Do you ever think about … him?”

  She stared at me for a few seconds, not speaking. I hoped she knew exactly who I meant without me having to mention Ethan's name. Finally, she nodded, a melancholy look chasing her smile away. “Yeah, I do. All the time. Do you still think about Logan?”

  I nodded. “Practically every day. His final letter to me … I just can't bring myself to get rid of it. That letter changed who I was back then.” I paused. “Do you think that's silly? Me holding onto it?”

  She took my hands in hers. I realized the pain we experienced back then had united us in a way that was unique. No one could understand what we went through. No one had been as close to Ethan and Logan as Kelsey and me. “No, Sophie,” she said. It was barely a whisper, but it held such command. When Eve used to give me advice, she delivered it in exactly this manner, and I knew it was coming from a place of love and wisdom. “I think you should keep that letter forever.”

  I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Do you think we'll ever see them again?”

  “I hope so, Soph. I really do.” She hugged me again.

  Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, followed by a female voice bellowing, “Yo, Kelse! You ready to go?”

  We broke the hug, chuckling at the ironic timing. “Be right there, April!” Kelsey called toward the door before turning back to me. “Gotta go. I promise I'll ask around about Duncan. I'll let you know about the thing with Ayden's roommate too.”

  We rose to our feet. “All right. Have fun.”
/>
  “Thanks. Say hi to Kirsten for me.”

  “I will.”

  * * *

  Mom and Dad went out for the evening, and Kirsten was spending the night at her best friend Charia's house, so since I had the place to myself, I took the opportunity to practice my singing. Cranking the volume on our stereo up to just below wall-vibrating level, I stood in the middle of my living room, faced the couch as if it was a packed cafeteria audience, and belted out the two songs I was trying desperately to master.

  Over and over I sang them, until my throat was scratchy and raw. The pointers Mr. Danbury and Mrs. Lynn gave me about projecting my voice were working. I could now be heard by … well, not the back row, but definitely the front row. I wasn't an expert, but I think I was also having pitch issues. Thankfully, I still had a month before showtime, and I felt supremely confident I could solve these problems.

  I'm gonna do it. I have to do it. Everyone's counting on me.

  I'm gonna be the best damn Wendy EVER.

  Chapter 23

  ~ Day 59 (Wed.) ~

  AYDEN

  I could only smile at the shocked expression on Sophie's face as I walked up to the bus stop. For the first time in years, I was giving my bike the day off.

  “Ayden? You're taking the bus? Is your bike broken?” She just gawked at me.

  I sat down next to Sophie on the curb. “Nah. Mom's off from work today, so she's gonna pick me up after she watches us rehearse.”

  “We're gonna practice in front of your mom? Are you ready for that?”

  Oh, man. That's a good question. Gulping down my already-building nerves, I put on a brave face. “Guess I'll find out. Did you know she was an actress when she was … well, younger?”

  “She was? That's so cool!” She nudged me with her shoulder. “Guess now we know where you get it from.”

  “Yeah. I really think she just wants to meet Marissa. I've kinda been talking about her a lot.” I could feel my face reddening.

  “Oooh,” Sophie giggled. “Sounds like someone's got a crush!”

  And now I remember why I prefer riding a bike. Much less embarrassing.

  * * *

  I still enjoyed sitting on the bleachers at recess, even though our rehearsal group hadn't met there to recite lines in weeks. Simon and Michelle had taken to hanging out in the library, and the change I'd seen in him since he got the part of Michael Darling was remarkable. We'd both spent the last few years staying as far away from the spotlight as possible, but now, taking part in this play had had a maturing effect on both of us. I'd discovered things about myself that I never knew existed, and Simon had grown in confidence by a factor of ten. I had no doubt his relationship with Michelle had a lot to do with that.

  Simon and Michelle had become best friends since she rescued him from Zach, who, along with Drew, had stuck to his word – well, technically, I'd blackmailed them – to leave him alone. Seeing them together made me happy, laughing and snorting at each other's stupid jokes and smiling their wide, metallic smiles, and it always made me think about Marissa and the similar friendship we'd built. Sure, Riss and I would probably never play Hellfire with each other, but I always looked forward to our time together.

  I watched as Riss approached the bleachers. She was alone, which surprised me, as she usually had Sophie with her. She was wearing a loose-fitting black top with designs that looked like eyeglass frames all over it, a short denim skirt, and a couple of green rubber bracelets around her wrist. And, to complete the ensemble, black socks with yellow polka dots. I chuckled. She's so awesome.

  There was a brisk wind, so I was amused to see little strands of her frizzy hair, which usually clung like barnacles to her head, dancing wildly in the stiff breeze that had kicked up since recess period started. She flashed me one of her gorgeous smiles as she shrugged off her backpack and took a seat next to me.

  “Hey, Ayden,” she said sweetly, leaning over and giving me a hug. We hugged all the time now, and the weirdness and shock my body once felt had been replaced by a kind of warm familiarity. Even though we hadn't gone on an actual date yet, I felt as close to her as I did to Sophie. I still had to struggle to keep my hormones in check when I was around her, though. Stupid hormones.

  “Hey, Riss,” I said, returning her smile. “Where's Sophie?”

  “She told me she was going to go see Mrs. Hoffmeyer. Did you hear she's retiring?”

  “No I didn't,” I replied, shocked. “Are you serious? She's really retiring?”

  “Yeah, I can hardly believe it. I thought she'd go on forever.”

  “Did you have her in fifth grade?”

  “Yeah, for Math. You?”

  “She was my homeroom teacher. Sophie was in my class.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, but that was before I … you know, talked to girls.”

  Suddenly, a big gust of wind shot across the playground, catching both of us in the face and almost blowing us off balance. We grabbed each other's arms instinctively. “Whoa, that was intense,” I said.

  “Let's go sit in the dugout,” she said with a wicked smile.

  I looked back at the field, and toward the school buildings. Many kids were enjoying their recess period despite the wind, but none of them were within a hundred yards of us. Then I looked back toward the dugout, which, almost totally surrounded by a chain-link fence, was completely private. Maybe this would be a good time for me to …

  Oh boy.

  I thought about refusing, but every cell in my body was screaming at me not to. The idea of being alone, truly alone, with Marissa, was causing my heart to race.

  “Um, sure,” I said, rising to my feet. Grabbing our backpacks, we descended the bleachers and entered the dugout, sitting down on the old wooden bench that ran from one end to the other.

  I looked at her face, with her skin the color of chocolate milk, her amazing dark brown eyes, and her nervous yet happy smile. The same smile I'd seen when she'd handed me that valentine back in Mrs. Higgins' class. The same smile she'd given me before she gave me that first hug a month ago. My insides melted, and my heart was beating like a jackrabbit's.

  Oh, man. I have NO idea what to do now.

  We just sat there for a few minutes, staring into space, at the school, at the playground, and at each other. Whenever we locked eyes, we'd chuckle awkwardly and then look away, staring at our shoes. I saw a colony of ants marching in a line right where the cement met the grass, choosing that to focus on as I desperately tried to get my voice working again.

  Finally, when I just couldn't take the awkwardness anymore, I reached over to grasp her hand, which she graciously slipped into mine. I loved her hands. They were warm and soft, her nails covered in cotton-candy pink glitter nail polish. With a sigh, I returned my eyes to her face.

  “I really like spending time with you,” I said. My throat suddenly felt parched.

  “Me too,” she said.

  “I just want to know, though … are you upset that I haven't asked you out? Like, on a date?”

  She thought for a few moments, then responded, “No, not upset.” She inched her body closer to mine so our legs were practically touching, sending a spark of mad energy up my spine. “Did … you want to ask me out on a date?”

  “I want to,” I said, drawing in a deep breath. “But … I just don't know if now's a good time. I mean, you know how messed up my home life is. And now, this thing with Ron … I wouldn't feel right bringing you anywhere near that creep. Your parents would probably kill me.”

  She looked away again with a grimace. “Yeah, they probably would. My dad would probably kill both of us if they knew we were even having this conversation.”

  “He's that bad?”

  She closed her eyes briefly, considering her words. “He's not bad, just … overprotective and strict. My Dad has a thing about his daughters dating. My big sister Lisa is seventeen, and I don't think she's ever been on a date either.”

  “Whoa,” I said. “That is strict.
And you have a little brother, too, right?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Ricardo. He's six, going on two.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  “He loves attention,” she replied, sighing. “And he'll do whatever he can to get it, even if he has to get in trouble.”

  “Ah. One of those.”

  She leaned over and put her head on my shoulder, and I instinctively put my arm around her. She took a deep sniff. “You know, I kind of envy the relationship you and your mom have. Sometimes I wish it was that way with me and my parents.”

  “What would you tell them about me? You know, if you could?”

  “I'd tell them … you're nice. You're sweet, and gentle, and …” she paused.

  I flashed a naughty grin. “Outrageously handsome?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well, I was going to say 'humble,' but now I know that's not true …”

  I laughed, and I squeezed her shoulder, drawing her even closer. She responded by placing both of her arms around my waist. We just held each other for a few moments, listening as the wind rustled the leaves of the trees behind us.

  “I love that I can be myself around you,” I said gently.

  She looked up at me. “Really?”

  “Yeah. People used to treat me like I was a freak. After my dad left, they started looking at me funny, like I was some kind of demon child or something. And then, when my sister ran away, it got even worse. Like they both left because of me.”

  Remembering Dad and Kim, before it all fell apart, was making my stomach churn. “There were times when I thought it was my fault. That I'd done something bad. Like maybe God was punishing us for something I did. But Mom … she wouldn't have it. She told me a thousand times it wasn't me, I was a good kid and I'd done nothing wrong. I think she blamed herself for a lot of what happened.”

  “Do you blame her?”

  “No. My mom loved my dad. She supported him. And he left anyway. And Kim …” I paused, trying to reconcile the sister that blew up at Mom countless times with the one who was my best friend growing up. I wanted to believe someday she would come back, even if Dad never did. I wanted to believe that whatever problems she and Mom had could be worked out, and we could be a family again.