Sophie's Different (James Madison Series Book 3)

by Patrick Hodges

  We were also informed by Detective Evans that Ron, in return for a reduced sentence, turned on all of his co-conspirators, leading to the arrest of a dozen other people who were smuggling drugs in furniture trucks. Ron himself was now serving a fifteen-year sentence, and his BMW was sold at a police auction. I didn't stop smiling for two days after hearing that news.

  The news was less good when it came to Castellano. Two months ago, the DEA launched a massive operation to take down his whole organization, and while they succeeded in seizing massive amounts of drugs, Castellano himself somehow escaped back to Mexico, or so the newspapers said. For the time being anyway, the huge amounts of drugs flowing into the city had decreased.

  Last week, in preparation for today, Mom took me to get my first-ever tailor-made suit. I didn't object, because a guy only graduates from middle school once in his life, but as I stood before my mirror, eyeing my new black jacket and slacks, my crisp white dress shirt and purple tie, I realized this would probably be the only time I'd ever wear it. My height had increased three full inches since the school year started, and I had no reason to believe I was done growing. Oh well.

  I also looked at my face, hardly able to believe how much it had matured. I turned fourteen back in April, but it was only now that I actually looked fourteen. The hair growing on my chest, arms, and legs was now noticeable, and it was only a matter of time before I'd have to learn how to shave.

  It astounded me, just how much I'd grown in the space of one short school year. And not just physically – my entire life had turned around. My sister had returned to us, both she and Mom had jobs they loved, and our future was more secure than it had been in years.

  As I pulled on my socks and my dress shoes, continuing to stare at my reflection, I became philosophical.

  Most people, when they look at me, see a kid. Not a child, but still a kid. And I never minded that before. I acted like a kid, and I felt like a kid, but now I wish people would look at me like … well, maybe not a grown-up, but not a little kid anymore.

  When exactly is it that one stops being a kid? Is it the day one becomes a teenager? Finishes middle school? Starts high school? Has his first kiss? Falls in love for the first time?

  That last thought made my brain flash back to a very memorable day back in February. Marissa and I, who had been going strong ever since we got her parents' approval, decided to arrange a get-together at my house where we'd have total privacy. We'd been together as a couple for four months, and the time felt right to take the next step in our relationship.

  She told her parents she was going over to Sophie's house, but instead she came to mine. It was a Sunday, which also just happened to be Valentine's Day. The construction guys had the day off, and both Mom and Kim were out, so we'd be undisturbed all afternoon.

  I started by giving Marissa another homemade valentine, something I'd put a lot more time into than the one I gave her in Mrs. Higgins' class. She squealed with glee, and we fell onto our brand new sofa from Direct-2-U, hugging and kissing each other like we'd spent many recess periods in the dugout doing. But this time, it felt … different. Weird. I couldn't understand why. Where had the spark gone?

  And then, looking into her eyes, I realized what I'd felt for her on that day we shared our first kiss in the dugout had since changed. I'd been crushing on her forever, and she'd had feelings for me. Given our shy, withdrawn personalities at the time, the idea that someone of the opposite sex could have those kinds of feelings for us overrode everything else. We fell into a romantic relationship without even thinking about it. Because we needed it.

  Sitting there, I realized – no, we both realized – that though we loved each other, the romantic spark we had back in October was no longer there. We were best friends. We were there for each other when we needed each other the most. It was the best decision we could have made at that moment. But that moment had now passed.

  Despite the hormones raging within me, begging me to take advantage of the situation, I knew I couldn't. In that moment, I thought about the life that lay ahead of me, of both of us. Very soon, we'd graduate middle school, and soon after that, we'd start high school, which, from everything Kim and Lisa told us, was a completely different animal than middle school. We were going to be busy. These were the years that would give us direction in our lives, and that was far more important than the need to gratify ourselves physically.

  That's when it clicked in my brain: when you're a kid, you live for the moment. For the now. It's all about having fun, reveling in one's childhood, playing with friends and eating bad food and enjoying doing all the things we'll eventually outgrow. My relationship with Marissa was a childish fling, fueled by loneliness and biological urges. But we'd outgrown it now.

  The day you stop being a kid is the day you realize that the future, not only your future but the future of those you care about, is more important than the present.

  Marissa and I spent the next few hours sitting on the sofa watching TV. We just held each other, not speaking, as the last remaining drops of our childhood ebbed away.

  We didn't call what happened after that a “breakup” – we were friends, and hopefully always would be. We were each other's first sweethearts. We'd shared our first kisses with each other. And if we both lived to be a hundred years old, that fact would never change. We kissed each other for the final time just before she climbed on her bike and rode back home.

  And so it went. Spring came around, and with it, another play for us to perform in. It was Beauty and the Beast, which Mr. Danbury adapted for JMMS's stage with his usual flair. The five of us who auditioned for Peter Pan, including Michelle and Simon, tried out, and we all got roles again. After my brilliant turn as Peter, a role that got me a surprising amount of popularity, I was ecstatic to land the starring role as Prince Adam. I nailed the part, looking truly beastly in my costume and makeup, and Sophie was stunning as Belle. Siobhan did her over-the-top best as the villainous Gaston, and Marissa was terrific as Mrs. Potts. All three performances went spectacularly, and none cheered louder than my Mom and Kim … except maybe Kelsey.

  After that, as we wrapped up our final months of eighth grade, both Marissa and I decided to explore relationships with other people. She'd developed a friendship with Korey, who turned out to be a really cool guy, and Rebecca Mack surprised me by asking me out a few days after our final performance. We'd been dating, actually dating, ever since. She was a really nice girl, and I liked her. We weren't “official” yet, but we'd have summer vacation to explore it, and hopefully enjoy it, before the monster of high school slammed us in the face.

  I pulled a comb from my jacket pocket and ran it through my over-gelled hair. Beholding myself one final time, I smiled and struck a dramatic pose, shooting finger-guns at my reflection and making a clicking noise with my mouth. Jeez, when did I become such a ham?

  I walked into the kitchen, where Mom and Kim were waiting for me. Kim looked me up and down, and she smiled. She'd been back for months, but I never got tired of seeing her smile. Mom and Kim both got their hair done recently, and bought new outfits just for the occasion. Mom had on a nice black dress that made her look a lot younger, and Kim was wearing a white dress that she looked stunning in. Mom was practically glowing. “Well, would you look at this?” she beamed. “It's People Magazine's Handsomest Boy Alive!”

  My face reddened and a “Moooooom!” escaped my lips. Never underestimate the power parents have to embarrass their kids.

  She walked over and cupped my face in her hands, taking several deep breaths. Today was a big day. For all of us, it would seem. I looked up, and saw a tear forming at the corner of her eye.

  I gently shook myself loose from her grasp. “Mom, don't you dare cry! You'll ruin your makeup!”

  She dabbed at her eye with a handy Kleenex, and smiled again. “Not to worry, kiddo, your old mother is always prepared.”

  I absently patted my jacket pocket, making sure the piece of paper I'd folded up and put in it
earlier was still there. I had a surprise for Sophie, and I couldn't wait to share it with her. “Can we go now? I'd hate to miss the moment they start handing out the diplomas, or whatever it is middle-schoolers get when they graduate.”

  “Oh, slow your roll, cowboy,” Mom said. “We've got plenty of time.” She briefly ran through her mental checklist. “Camera charged and ready, lots of tissues for crying, cellphone, keys … okay, that's it.” She smiled at me. “Let's go.”

  Yeah, I thought as I climbed into the back seat of Mom's newly-acquired ten-year-old SUV, let's do this thing.

  Chapter 36

  ~ GRADUATION DAY ~

  SOPHIE

  I looked at myself in the mirror, sizing myself up for the twentieth time in the last hour.

  It occurred to me, even though this mirror had been in my room my whole life, I never really spent a lot of time looking into it until eighth grade. When I was a little girl, my personal appearance was never the most important thing; there was too much fun to be had out there without worrying about stuff like that. But now, I could only wonder: how did I become so vain?

  Ever since that first makeover, I'd taken a lot of pride in how I looked. And, I realized with no small amount of satisfaction, I did it for me. Not to look good for my friends, or my parents, or some boy. For me. I was a teenage girl, and I looked like one. A damn good-looking one. My face was blemish-free, I knew exactly how much makeup to wear to look classy without crossing the line into slutty, and my breasts had finally decided to introduce themselves to the world.

  Two weeks ago, Mom took me out to buy a new dress for graduation. I chose pink, of course. Not little-girl pink, like all those “Hello Kitty” shirts I used to wear, but a soft, gentle, grown-up pink, perfect for my transition from childhood into adolescence.

  As I stared at my reflection, humming idly, I found myself thinking less about my impending graduation and more about the future. My future. Oh, sure, I'd put myself through the high-school meat grinder and hopefully come out in one piece at the other end, but beyond that … well, I knew there was going to be a very interesting conversation with Mom and Dad in the near future on that topic.

  I primped and fluffed my immaculately-styled hair one more time, and was leaning in to check my makeup when I heard a knock on my door. I turned to see Eve, newly returned from finishing her sophomore year of college, standing there. “Hey, Soph. May I come in?”

  “Please.”

  She walked over to stand next to me, staring at our reflections like we were watching the best TV program in history. “Big day, huh?”

  I turned to face her, and a thousand memories flashed through my mind. Eve teaching me how to tie my shoes. Eve showing me how to put on lipstick for the first time, an episode that ended with me looking like a rodeo clown. Eve holding me as I cried on her shoulder the day I got Logan's letter.

  We'd grown up together, Eve, Kirsten, and I. We'd had our share of sisterly spats, but for the most part, we'd gotten along well. From the time I was a baby, there'd always been love between us. Always. Kirsten was older than me, true, but she'd been more like a best friend, a playmate, back then. Eve was a big sister. The big sister. She read picture books to me, took care of many of my boo-boos, taught me about boys. Every void caused by Mom and Dad's busy work schedules had been filled by Eve.

  And now, for the first time ever, none of us were kids anymore. We were young women. And we were Devereaux women, just like Mom: strong, tough, compassionate, not willing to let others tell us who we were and who we could be friends with.

  I sat down on the edge of my bed. “Evie, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course,” she said, sitting next to me.

  “When did you know you wanted to be a lawyer? Like Mom?”

  She stared into space for a few moments, again focusing on our reflections. “I'm not sure. I think it was back in eighth grade. When Joshua almost died.”

  I nodded sadly, remembering that terrible day. “Yeah, I don't think I've ever cried so much in my life.”

  “I remember sitting by his hospital bed, watching him sleep, for hours. I was so happy he survived, but I was also furious at the injustice of it all. That someone so amazing, so kind, so gentle, had to go through what he did. This boy, who would never harm a soul, almost lost his life because the system that was supposed to protect him failed to do its job.”

  She took my hand, and our eyes met. “I thought about what Mom does, every single day, doing her best to carry justice out, by keeping those who would hurt innocent people like Joshua off the streets. I think I told myself around that time, 'I want to do that'.”

  “But you're not doing criminal law anymore, right?”

  “Yes, that's right. It takes a certain level of toughness to do that, to go toe-to-toe with the worst that society has to offer. Mom's always been that tough. I'm just not sure I have her fortitude.”

  “What will you do, then?”

  She thought for a few more moments. “Being with Joshua all these years has really made me believe in sticking up for the underdog. I think I want to be one of those lawyers who represents people who are getting pushed around by big companies that think they can walk all over them.”

  “Still taking on the bullies, huh?” I chuckled. “Just like Erin Brockovich!”

  “Something like that.” She nudged me with her shoulder.

  “I think you'll be awesome at it, Evie.”

  “Thanks, sis. Why are you asking me this?”

  I stood up, striding over to the mirror, staring at it as if it was a portal to my future. “All my life, I've wondered what I was going to do when I grew up. Whether I was going to follow in Mom's footsteps, or Dad's, or yours –”

  “Soph, your path is your own. You don't need to follow anyone else's.”

  “I know. And I think I know what that path is now.”

  “Really?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

  I turned to face her again. “I mean, Dad's a pilot, Mom's a lawyer, you're gonna be a lawyer, and Kirsten … well, I don't know what she's gonna do, but she'll probably be running the state by the time she's done.”

  “I have no problem believing that,” she said with a chuckle.

  “You're all so smart and so driven. You see your path, and you follow it all the way to the end. And I think that's great, but …”

  She stood, closing the distance between us until she was standing right in front of me.

  “But … I think I want to do something different than all of you,” I finished.

  She regarded me for a few moments, and then her beautiful smile returned. “You want to become an actress, don't you?”

  I gave a short gasp. “How'd you know?”

  She reached out, running her fingers gently through my hair. “I saw it in your eyes, Soph. Before you went out and performed for us. You were glowing. You weren't simply playing Wendy, you were Wendy. I don't think I'd ever been more proud of you.”

  My smile grew until it matched hers. She was right.

  “You've found something you're not only good at, but that you obviously love and want to pursue. That's a wonderful thing, Sophie. So many kids go through life, never knowing what they want to do. They never find a star to chase, and the fact that you have is so amazing.”

  “Really?” I asked, Eve's validation filling my heart with pride.

  “Sophie, if you put your heart into being an actress, then I think you'll end up being one of the greatest actresses the world has ever seen. Because no one, and I mean no one, has a bigger heart than you.”

  A tear forming around my eye, I enfolded Eve in a bear-hug. I could almost feel the knots in my gut soften, as I basked in my sister's strength and wisdom and incredible, awe-inspiring warmth.

  “You really think I can become a professional actress?” I asked as we parted.

  “Sophie,” she said, a proud smile playing over her face, “I think someday you'll be describing your Peter Pan experience to a Hollywood talk-show h
ost, right before they show the clip from your latest blockbuster movie.”

  I blinked a few times in rapid succession. “That's … one hell of a fantasy.”

  She put her hands on my shoulders. “Make that your path, Sophie, and it'll happen. After all …” she gave me a playful wink, “you're a Devereaux.”

  “You're damn right I am,” I said, and we walked out of my room and down the stairs.

  * * *

  After the last certificate was handed out, and Principal Marquez told all of us graduating to “have the best and brightest future possible,” many of my classmates hung around, taking selfies, posing for our families, signing each other's yearbooks, making promises we'd never keep about staying in touch forever, and saying a tearful goodbye to the place that had seen us through the last four years, and all the teachers that had made it happen.

  Mrs. Hoffmeyer was the guest of honor at our graduation ceremony. With her husband in attendance, she bid the school she'd helped shape for forty years farewell. It was announced by Principal Marquez that the school staff, along with many parents and dozens of Mrs. H's former students, had pitched in to send her and her husband on a ten-day Caribbean cruise. It was then announced that the fifth- and sixth-graders building, which had remained unchanged since the school was founded, was going to be partially rebuilt and modernized, and a plaque bearing the words “Dedicated to Mrs. Eileen Hoffmeyer, for forty outstanding years of service” was going to be featured right where everyone could see it. Everyone clapped and cheered like crazy, and she hugged practically everyone in the building. She deserved nothing less.

  A lot of my classmates, many of whom made an actual effort to get to know me since I became a stage star, wished me well as we celebrated our graduation. Even Alexis, who – miraculously – became far less bratty after breaking contact with Rhianna and serving a month's detention, gave me a fist-bump and a smile. Drew, who got the same punishment, continued to ignore me, of course. Boys.