Chapter seven: Distance really does make us change
1645 Words
Paris was beginning to teach Sophia that starting over was not the same as forgetting.
Two weeks had passed since the prom.
Two weeks since she had returned to Paris earlier than planned, carrying more questions than luggage.
At first, she had expected the disappointment to fade quickly.
It didn't.
Instead, she buried herself in school.
If there was one thing Sophia had learned from the move, it was that she couldn't keep looking backward and expect her new life to move forward.
So she studied.
And studied.
And studied some more.
Her bedroom had gradually transformed into a small study space. Textbooks occupied her desk, notebooks were stacked beside her laptop, and colourful sticky notes covered the wall above her workspace.
She had a lot to catch up on.
Regular school had exposed gaps in her education that homeschooling had never required her to notice. She understood most subjects well, but she had missed certain classroom routines, assignments, group projects, and topics that other students seemed to know instinctively.
Sophia refused to let that discourage her.
One evening, she sat at her desk staring at a complicated mathematics problem.
"Who decided mathematics needed to be this difficult?"
A laugh came from the other side of the room.
"You've been complaining about that question for twenty minutes."
Sophia looked over.
Evelyn was sitting on the floor with her back against the bed, sorting through basketball notes and homework.
"You've been listening?"
"Unfortunately."
Sophia smiled.
"You're supposed to be helping me."
"I am helping you."
"How?"
"By reminding you that you're not allowed to give up."
Sophia sighed before turning back to her notebook.
"Fine."
Evelyn grinned.
"That's better."
Evelyn had become Sophia's closest friend at school.
Their friendship had started unexpectedly.
Sophia had first noticed her on the basketball court.
Evelyn played with an intensity that immediately reminded Sophia of John.
The same determination.
The same competitiveness.
The same refusal to give up simply because something was difficult.
But Evelyn had something else that Sophia noticed almost immediately—a bright smile that seemed to survive even the most exhausting practice.
After watching her play one afternoon, Sophia had approached her.
"You play really well."
Evelyn had laughed.
"Really? Because I thought I nearly embarrassed myself."
"You didn't."
"You play?"
"No."
"Then how do you know?"
Sophia smiled.
"My best friend plays basketball."
"Back home?"
"Yes."
"Is he good?"
Sophia's smile had softened.
"Very."
That conversation had been the beginning of their friendship.
Now Evelyn knew more about Sophia than most people at school.
Including John.
She knew how much Sophia missed him.
She also knew Sophia didn't talk about him as much anymore.
Not because she cared less.
Because something had changed.
---
Across the Atlantic, John was changing too.
Basketball had become increasingly demanding.
His coach had noticed his potential and had begun pushing him harder.
There were practices before school.
Strength sessions afterward.
School projects.
Assignments.
And competitions that consumed entire weekends.
John barely had enough time to sleep, let alone spend hours on the phone.
But there was another reason he hadn't called Sophia.
The prom.
He still remembered the expression on her face when she discovered Chris had arrived with Emma.
John had wanted to explain everything that night.
But Sophia had been too hurt to listen.
Since then, they had barely spoken.
Two weeks.
Two whole weeks.
John stared at his phone one evening after practice.
Sophia's name was still near the top of his contacts.
He hesitated.
Then he pressed call.
---
Sophia's phone rang while she was studying.
She glanced at the screen.
Johnny.
For a moment, she simply stared at it.
She hadn't expected him to call.
She answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sophy."
His voice sounded tired.
She smiled faintly.
"Hey."
"How are you?"
"Good."
"How's school?"
"Busy."
"Still catching up?"
"Yeah."
There was a pause.
John cleared his throat.
"I've been meaning to call."
"I figured you were busy."
"I was."
"I know."
Another silence.
They had once been able to talk for hours without running out of things to say.
Now they were struggling to fill a few seconds.
John noticed it too.
"I've missed talking to you."
Sophia looked down at her notebook.
"Me too."
"How's Evelyn?"
Sophia smiled.
"She's great."
"The basketball girl?"
"Yes."
John laughed quietly.
"Of course."
"What?"
"Nothing. I'm just glad you found someone."
Sophia didn't know how to respond.
She didn't want to tell him that Evelyn reminded her of him.
That would probably make everything feel stranger.
Instead, she said,
"How's basketball?"
"Exhausting."
"You love it."
"I do."
"Then stop complaining."
John laughed.
"There she is."
Sophia smiled.
For a few minutes, the conversation became easier.
He told her about a difficult practice.
She told him about a teacher who had given her too much homework.
They laughed.
But it still wasn't the same.
Eventually, John said,
"I should let you study."
"Okay."
"Call me sometime."
Sophia hesitated.
"I will."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Goodnight, Sophy."
"Goodnight, Johnny."
The call ended.
Sophia stared at the phone.
It was strange.
Nothing terrible had happened between them.
But somehow, the distance between New York and Paris wasn't the only distance they were dealing with anymore.
---
Meanwhile, Chris was preparing for an entirely different future.
Football had always been his passion.
Unlike John, who found his rhythm on the basketball court, Chris belonged on a football field.
He had begun training seriously with the goal of playing professionally.
His schedule was relentless.
Morning conditioning.
School.
Training.
Recovery.
More training.
His father had warned him that talent alone wouldn't be enough.
Chris was finally beginning to understand.
One evening, Mr. Williams found him returning from practice.
"You're late."
"Training ran over."
"Again?"
Chris nodded.
Mr. Williams studied him.
"You really want this."
"More than anything."
"Then treat it seriously."
"I am."
His father smiled.
"Good."
Chris walked upstairs.
He had also made another decision.
He would postpone his college application until the following year.
His final examination scores had been disappointing, and although he wasn't an excellent student, he knew he could do better.
He wanted time to improve his grades while concentrating on football.
His mother, Annabelle, wasn't entirely convinced.
"Are you sure about this?"
Chris nodded.
"I don't want to rush into college just because everyone expects me to."
She studied her son.
"Then make sure you're building something while you wait."
"I will."
---
Later that night, Chris sat alone in his room.
He glanced at his phone.
Sophia's name appeared on the screen.
He hadn't spoken to her since the prom.
He had considered calling several times.
But he wasn't sure what to say.
The explanation about Emma had been difficult enough.
He knew Sophia had been hurt.
Not because Emma was his girlfriend.
She wasn't.
But because Sophia had felt excluded from something she believed she should have known about.
Chris understood that.
And perhaps he understood something else too.
Their friendship had changed.
He eventually placed the phone down.
Some conversations couldn't be forced.
---
In Paris, Sophia sat beside Evelyn on the school bleachers after practice.
Evelyn was drinking water, still breathing heavily from the game.
"You've been quiet today."
Sophia smiled.
"I'm tired."
"That's not the real reason."
Sophia laughed.
"You've known me for barely a year and already think you know everything."
"I don't know everything."
Evelyn leaned closer.
"But I know when my friend is pretending."
Sophia looked toward the court.
"I talked to John today."
Evelyn smiled.
"How did it go?"
"Fine."
"Just fine?"
Sophia nodded.
"We haven't talked properly in weeks."
"I'm sorry."
Sophia shrugged.
"People change."
Evelyn shook her head.
"Sometimes people don't change. Life just gets busy."
Sophia looked at her.
"Maybe."
Evelyn smiled.
"You should give him time."
Sophia looked at the basketball court.
"That's what I'm doing."
For a moment, she watched Evelyn gather her things.
The way she carried herself reminded Sophia of John again.
It was strange how someone she'd known for such a short time could remind her so much of home.
Evelyn noticed her staring.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You were staring."
Sophia smiled.
"You remind me of someone."
"Who?"
"My best friend."
Evelyn smiled brightly.
"Then he must be pretty great."
"He is."
Sophia looked down.
"Or at least... he was."
Evelyn didn't push her for an explanation.
She simply smiled.
"Come on. Let's get something to eat."
Sophia laughed.
"You're always hungry."
"Basketball makes me hungry."
"Fair enough."
They walked out together.
For the first time in weeks, Sophia felt lighter.
---
That night, Susan returned from work and found Sophia studying at the dining table.
"You're still working?"
Sophia looked up.
"I have exams coming."
Susan placed her handbag down.
"You need to rest too."
"I know."
"How was school?"
"Good."
"Friends?"
"Good."
"How's Evelyn?"
Sophia smiled.
"She's wonderful."
Susan smiled.
"I'm glad."
She sat beside her daughter.
"And John?"
Sophia's smile faded slightly.
"He called."
"How long had it been?"
"Two weeks."
Susan didn't comment.
She simply placed a hand over Sophia's.
"Sometimes distance changes relationships."
Sophia looked at her.
"Do you think that's always a bad thing?"
"No."
Susan smiled sadly.
"Sometimes distance shows you which relationships can survive."
Sophia thought about that for a moment.
Outside the window, Paris glittered beneath the night sky.
Thousands of miles away, John was probably asleep after another exhausting day.
Chris was probably preparing for another football session.
Annabelle was probably working late on another collection.
And Susan knew that beneath the surface, the lives of both families were moving in directions none of them could predict.
Sophia returned to her books.
She had a future to build.
And perhaps, for now, that was enough.
But somewhere between New York and Paris, three childhood friends were growing into people they had never imagined becoming.
And the distance between them was only the beginning.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD