by Nancy N. Rue
“Yeah,” Sophie said. “I’ll be there.”
Nathan skittered to his desk, but Julia didn’t move. When Sophie tried to get around her, she said, “So, does this mean Jimmy is available again?”
All Sophie could do was stare at her.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” Julia said. She started to walk away, and then she stopped. “Oh, and by the way—that AUP thing we’re supposed to sign? Nobody’s going to follow that.” With a victorious toss of her hair, she was gone.
“You still sick, LaCroix?” Coach Yates said. “You’re looking a little green.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sophie said. “Could I go to the nurse again?”
She spent all of sixth period lying on a cot, trying not to imagine what rehearsal was going to be like. She had been careful not to even look at Jimmy all day, and he hadn’t talked to her, either. He’d even sent Nathan to ask her if she was coming.
How am I going to pretend I’m his wife? she thought.
Louisa Linkhart wiped the last of the tears from her eyes with her lace handkerchief. She had to do what a good Victorian wife did. She must go to Lincoln and beg his forgiveness, even if she had to get down on her knees—which was no easy feat in a corset and petticoats—
Sophie sat straight up on the cot. Of course! She could almost imagine Dr. Peter right there, saying, Loodle, didn’t we talk about forgiveness? Weren’t you listening?
The tears came again and there wasn’t a lace handkerchief in sight. The nurse peeked in and then opened the door wide.
“Honey, do you want me to call your mom to come get you?” she said.
“No,” Sophie said. “There’s something I have to do after school.”
As soon as the bell rang, Sophie dodged through the crowd in the hall to Jimmy’s locker. To her relief he was there, but so were Nathan and Vincent. When he saw Sophie, Vincent poked Jimmy in the back and pointed. The very-blue eyes that looked at her came straight out of her daydream.
“I need to talk to Jimmy.” Sophie’s voice squeaked, but she didn’t care. She had to get this out.
“Oh, so now you want to talk to him,” Vincent said. His own voice matched hers, squeak for squeak.
“It’s okay,” Jimmy said. “I’ll catch up with you guys.”
Nathan tore out of there like he was being chased by a pack of dogs. Vincent shrugged as he passed. “I don’t get girls,” he said.
Jimmy stuffed some books into his locker, and then pulled the same ones out. Sophie was feeling smaller by the second, but she straightened her shoulders. This would be so much easier if she were wearing a corset.
“I was stupid,” she blurted out. “Fiona and them were all complaining because I was spending all that time working on the website with you and I felt guilty and I didn’t want to mess things up with them—only I like being friends with you but I didn’t know what to do especially with all the stupid rumors and that website about us—I thought I needed my friends to help me—only I should have told them I could be friends with you and them and that’s what I was going to do but I hit Send instead of Delete and I think I hate the Internet now—”
“Sophie,” Jimmy said.
“What?” Sophie said.
“Take a breath.”
Sophie took a huge one. “Will you forgive me? Because I’m really sorry.”
“Sure,” Jimmy said.
Sophie blinked. “That’s it? You’re just going to forgive me just like that?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“Then—we’re still friends?” Sophie said.
“We’re cool,” Jimmy said. “Only—”
Sophie held her breath again. Here it came.
“I’m not the one you gotta worry about,” he said. “Fiona and the girls, they don’t get why you’re not speaking to them.”
“They don’t get it? They said I was a liar!”
“About what?”
“About—nothing.” Sophie drove her fingers through her hair. “I don’t think they’re even sorry for what they wrote about me.”
“Whatever it was, I don’t think so,” Jimmy said. “Fiona says they didn’t do anything wrong.” He shrugged. “I sure don’t get why Fiona thinks I’m scum all of a sudden.”
Sophie sank back against the lockers. “This is going to be a really weird rehearsal.”
Jimmy shrugged. “We could just practice our scenes and they could do other stuff.”
“You tell them that, then,” Sophie said.
Sophie’s stomach squirmed as she followed Jimmy to the courtyard. All of this felt so un-Corn Flake—not even being able to rehearse a film with her friends, when that was one of the main things that made them the Corn Flakes. It was heinous.
Am I making too big a deal out of this? she thought.
The aching emptiness told her no.
Am I supposed to just act like it never happened? They really hurt me, and they’re not even sorry!
But maybe they were. Maybe Jimmy didn’t get girls any more than Vincent did.
There was only one thing to do. Face-to-face, Lacie had told her.
When Sophie and Jimmy got to the courtyard, everybody was busy setting up. Willoughby did her poodle thing at the sight of Sophie, and then she looked at Fiona.
Fiona put down the baby Jesus doll she was carrying and put her hands on her hips.
“So are you going to rehearse with us?” she said.
“Can we talk first?” Sophie said.
“You mean about the fact that you’ve been ditching us all day?” Fiona looked at the Corn Flakes, who were all gathering nervously beside her. “We’d love to hear about that.”
The little pink bow of a mouth was once again drawn into a knot. The magic gray eyes looked as hard as stones. There was no “I’m sorry” hinting around the edges of her voice.
“Never mind,” Sophie said. “Let’s just rehearse.”
It was the worst. Everyone was so stiff and awkward, Vincent said there wasn’t anything he’d caught on film that they could use. Sophie cut the rehearsal short early and ran like a bunny for the late bus. She was halfway there when a solid voice behind her said, “Sophie. Wait up.”
Sophie turned to face Maggie and kept walking backward. “I can’t miss the bus,” she said. “My mom can’t pick me up.”
“Then I’ll email you when I get home,” Maggie said. Her face was still, like she was afraid if she moved it, it would show what was going on inside her.
“I don’t think I’m ever going online again,” Sophie said.
Maggie stopped. “I’m still gonna email you.”
Sophie could only nod as she turned away. There was too much confusion in her head for anything to break free and make sense.
None of it got sorted out on the way home, not even when she tried to be Louisa Linkhart or Cynthia Cyber. Even imagining Jesus didn’t give her any answers. When she got home, Mama was sound asleep on the couch in the family room, and there was a note saying Zeke was with Boppa. There was only Sophie and the monster computer, staring at her out of its one big monitor-eye.
Eleven
I’m still gonna email you, Maggie had said.
To tell me I’m a liar? Sophie thought. I can’t handle that!
But the missing them, that was bigger than the being afraid. Palms sweating, she logged on with slippery fingers.
75 New Messages, the computer told her.
Seventy-five? Sophie thought. I don’t even know that many people!
She scanned the list for familiar screen names. There were none. Maggie’s email wasn’t there, either. When the IM chime rang, Sophie twitched. It was from Anne-Stuart.
ANGELEYES: Everybody’s been asking me for your email address. Going out with Jimmy made you popular. How come you broke up?
Sophie didn’t answer. She went back to the email list. Were these all from people who had asked Anne-Stuart for her email address? Come to think of it, how did Anne-Stuart get her address? It didn’t make sense.
You are a loser. Only losers go out with a cool guy like Jimmy and then dump him. You are scum.
Almost as if the mouse had come to life, it clicked down the list, opening email after email.
You aren’t even that cute. Who do you think you are?
You’re such a geek. You’ll never get another boyfriend.
You skinny little weirdo. I don’t know why Jimmy ever liked you in the first place.
Sophie didn’t even realize she was sobbing until Mama’s voice made its way across the room.
“Come here, Dream Girl,” she said. “Don’t look at that anymore. Come here.”
Sophie ran to her and cried for so long with her face buried in Mama she forgot herself. Only when Lacie was suddenly there, saying, “Those hateful, evil little—freaks!” did Sophie lift her head. Her glasses were sideways on her face and salt-stained with tears, but she could see Lacie leaning over Sophie’s computer, hand on the mouse.
“What are you doing?” Sophie said.
“I’m saving them and printing them out,” Lacie said. “Daddy’s going to want to see this.”
“What is it?” Mama said.
“You don’t even want to know,” Lacie said.
But Mama did want to know, and when Daddy got home, they held a family conference at the coffee table.
“This has gone too far, Soph,” Daddy said. “You know I have to do something.”
Sophie didn’t answer. It hurt too much to talk.
Daddy ran a hand over his head. “Of course, there may not be anything the school can do if none of this came from school computers. Not unless the effects of it have spilled over into school.” He put a big hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “Now tell me the truth, has this harassment started to affect your grades?”
“Yes,” Sophie said. Her voice sounded like wood.
Mama stirred on the couch. “The school nurse called and said she saw you twice today, Dream Girl.”
“This stuff would make me sick too,” Lacie said. She scowled at the handful of emails she was holding. Her eyebrows puckered at the top one. “I know this address. Katie Schneider uses this one—does she have a sister or brother at the middle school?”
“There’s B.J. Schneider,” Sophie managed to say. “She’s one of the Corn Pops.”
“Hello!” Lacie said.
“It’s a start anyway.” Daddy smothered Sophie’s shoulder with his hand again. “I’ll see Mr. Bentley first thing in the morning. For right now, I want you to stay off the Internet completely.”
“That’s so not fair,” Lacie said. “She’s the victim and she gets the punishment.”
“I’m not punishing, I’m protecting,” Daddy said. “It’s the same reason I had to cut down Zeke’s giant yarn Spider-Man web—so he wouldn’t get hurt.” He let go of Sophie’s shoulder. “I’m just shielding you from a different kind of web, Baby Girl.”
That’s me, all right, Sophie thought. Baby Girl.
But she nodded at Daddy. There was nobody to email anyway.
“Hey, look,” Lacie said. “It’s snowing!”
Suddenly it was all about the snow, which almost never happened in Poquoson. It put Mama in a Christmas mood, and within five minutes she had Lacie baking cookies and Sophie bringing her pen and paper to make lists.
“I’m going to direct Christmas right from this couch,” Mama said. She patted her tummy. “You and me, little girlfriend.”
Sophie didn’t feel at all like Christmas. All she felt was sadness for her baby-sister-to-be. She was coming into a world where you couldn’t even turn to your best friends when everybody else was ripping you apart.
There was no school the next day because of the snow. Although Mama tried to keep everybody focused on holiday preparations, Sophie spent most of her time upstairs wrapped in a blanket because she was cold from the inside out. She couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with her computer.
When more snow came Tuesday night and the TV announced Wednesday morning that the roads were so bad school would be closed again, Sophie wasn’t sure whether to cheer or cry. She decided it didn’t matter. She was still going to feel like someone had kicked out her soul no matter where she was.
A little before lunchtime, Dr. Peter called.
“No Bible study class today, Loodle,” he said. “Du-uh, huh?”
“That’s okay,” Sophie told him. “I wasn’t going to come anyway.”
“Oh?”
“I can’t be around the Corn Flakes. I don’t think we’re friends anymore.”
“Impossible!” Dr. Peter said.
“That’s what I thought,” Sophie said, and then she burst into tears.
“Are you up for a visitor?” he said in a husky-soft voice. “Let me talk to your mama.”
Dr. Peter was there within half an hour, and Lacie set them up in Daddy’s study so they could have privacy—since Zeke was home too.
Sophie wrapped up in the blanket she’d dragged from upstairs and curled up in Daddy’s desk chair. But before he sat down, Dr. Peter said, “I realized on the way over here that I didn’t even ask you if you wanted to talk to me about this.”
“I do!” Sophie said. “I’m all tangled up in knots like I used to get, only Cynthia Cyber and Louisa Linkhart can’t even help me. I have two dream characters, and I’m still confused.” She took a breath. “And I have been talking to Jesus.”
“I have no doubt.”
“I’ve confessed every sin I ever committed.”
Dr. Peter’s eyes twinkled, but he didn’t smile. At least he took her seriously.
“Then it’s a sure thing you’re forgiven, Loodle,” he said. “Why don’t you start from the top?”
Sophie told him everything, which took a while since there were so many parts to it. Her voice got higher and higher as she talked, so that by the time she got to the heinous emails, she could hardly hear herself. She pulled the blanket tighter, but she still felt like an ice cube.
Dr. Peter crossed one foot over the other knee and wiggled it. “This is huge for you, Loodle,” he said. “I think we need to unpack it, like a suitcase. You want to start with the Corn Flakes?”
Sophie’s stomach squirmed, but she nodded.
“The problem is, how are you going to be able to forgive them, right?” Dr. Peter said.
“How can I forgive them?”
“Like I said, God has forgiven you. Jimmy forgave you too, right?”
“But I told him I was sorry,” Sophie said. “Fiona and the other girls, they don’t even think they did anything wrong.” She pulled at her hair. “Am I supposed to just pretend it didn’t happen?”
Dr. Peter waggled his head back and forth. “Yes and no.”
“How can it be both?”
“Okay, let’s keep it simple. We have to try to handle forgiveness the way God does. We’ll never get it totally right,” he added as Sophie opened her mouth to protest. “But we have a responsibility to try.”
“I’ll never even get close,” Sophie said. “But what do I have to lose?”
“That’s my Loodle. Okay, think about the story we read last time. The master represented God, right?”
“Yes.”
“And he forgave the servant. So there’s your first step.”
“But—”
“Even though it meant he wouldn’t get paid back, the master let it go.”
Sophie sat up and thought about that. “So, even if I don’t get to hear them say they were wrong, I have to let it go.”
“That’s where the yes and the no come in.” Dr. Peter rubbed his hands together. “Yes, the master forgave him, and the servant got off easy—but it didn’t change him. So the next time the servant messed up, it was off to jail. When you forgive somebody, that doesn’t mean she gets to escape her responsibilities.”
“So—yes, I forgive the Corn Flakes.
But—no, I don’t just let them get away with hurting me.” Sophie flopped back in the chair. “But I don’t get how!”
“The whole reason for forgiveness isn’t so people can just keep on doing stupid things,” Dr. Peter said. “It’s so people can have another chance to get it right.”
Sophie considered that. “You mean, like a teacher dropping your lowest grade.”
“Sure. And when somebody really feels like they’ve been forgiven, sometimes that changes something in them and they’re better people.” Dr. Peter wiggled his eyebrows. “Other times, you, the forgiver, have to help them.”
Sophie looked down at her lap. “I want to forgive them—but it hurts so much.”
“God never said it was going to be painless. But when you don’t do it—well, what happened to the servant when he didn’t forgive the guy who owed him?”
“He got thrown in jail for, like, six years.”
“How did it feel when Jimmy forgave you?”
“Good!”
“And when a teacher drops that grade—”
“Relieved.”
“And how about all the confessing you’ve been doing—does it help?”
“I think so.”
Dr. Peter sat back, arms folded. “We’ll only know that if you can find it in yourself to forgive your Corn Flakes.”
Sophie felt the ping in her head. “So I forgive them, because that’s what God does, and if they really get it they won’t do that again, but I might have to help them.”
Dr. Peter held up his palm. “That’s it, Loodle,” he said as Sophie high-fived him. “I think you can take it from here. You want to pray with me?”
After they talked to God together and Dr. Peter left, Sophie still wasn’t completely sure what she was going to say. But she took the phone into her room. Her hand shook as she punched in Fiona’s number.
“It’s me,” Sophie said when Fiona answered. Then, before she could chicken out, she plunged on. “I forgive you for not believing me about Jimmy—and for talking about me in the chat room. Even if you don’t think you did anything wrong, I’m still gonna forgive you and I still want to be your friend because you’re a good person and you’ll figure it out and if you don’t, I’ll help you.”