The Bully’s Blind Spot

Chapter 4

RIVER

Saturday morning, I'm standing outside Sophie's house at exactly nine a.m., holding two iced coffees and wearing my best "we're about to change your life" outfit—a cropped lavender sweater, high-waisted black jeans, and my favorite platform boots. Avery pulls up thirty seconds later in her mom's ancient Honda, blasting indie rock loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood.

Sophie opens the front door looking like she's about to face a firing squad instead of a shopping trip.

"Oh no," I say immediately, thrusting a coffee into her hands. "We are not doing scared Sophie today. Today is confident Sophie. Or at least *trying-to-be-confident* Sophie. Baby steps."

"I don't know if I can do this," she says, and I can see her already second-guessing everything.

"Good thing you don't have to know," Avery calls from the car. "You just have to get in and let us do the knowing for you."

I loop my arm through Sophie's and practically drag her down the driveway. "Listen, babe. I have been planning this day for approximately seventy-two hours. I have a list. I have a strategy. I have snacks in my bag for when you inevitably get hangry and try to bail. You are not backing out now."

Sophie climbs into the backseat, clutching her coffee like a lifeline. "What if nothing looks good? What if I try stuff on and it's worse than what I already wear?"

"Impossible," I say, sliding into the passenger seat. "Literally impossible. You could wear a potato sack and it would be an improvement over those dad shirts you've been hiding in."

"River—"

"I'm serious! Sophie, you have been dressing like you're trying to disappear for so long that you've forgotten what you actually look like. Today, we fix that."

Avery cranks up the music and we head toward the mall. I'm buzzing with excitement—not just because I love shopping (which I do, obviously), but because I've been waiting for this moment for *years*. Sophie has so much potential, so much beauty that she refuses to see, and today she's finally going to start seeing it.

The mall is packed when we arrive, which is perfect. I want Sophie to see other people, other bodies, other styles. I want her to realize that there's no one way to look good.

"Okay," I announce as we walk through the main entrance. "Here's the plan. We're hitting five stores. We're trying on everything. And I mean *everything*. If you hate it, fine. But you have to at least try it on."

"Five stores?" Sophie looks panicked.

"Five stores," Avery confirms. "And River's buying lunch, so you're stuck with us all day."

"I never agreed to—" I start, but Avery gives me a look. "Fine. I'm buying lunch. But only because I love you both and this is a special occasion."

We start at Torrid because I know they'll have Sophie's size and the staff there are always amazing. The moment we walk in, I'm already pulling things off racks—a burgundy wrap dress, high-waisted jeans, a black top with a sweetheart neckline, a denim jacket that actually has shape to it.

"River, that's too much," Sophie protests as I pile clothes into her arms.

"It's not enough," I counter. "Trust me. Just go try them on."

She disappears into the fitting room and Avery and I exchange a look.

"Think she'll actually come out and show us?" Avery whispers.

"She better," I say. "I didn't wake up at eight a.m. on a Saturday for nothing."

Five minutes pass. Then ten. I'm about to go check on her when the fitting room door finally opens.

Sophie steps out wearing the burgundy wrap dress, and I actually gasp.

"Oh my God," I say.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Sophie immediately tries to retreat back into the fitting room, but I grab her arm.

"Bad? SOPHIE. You look *incredible*."

And she does. The dress actually fits her body—hugs her curves instead of hiding them, shows off her waist, makes her look like a person instead of a shapeless blob. Her face is red and she won't make eye contact with the mirror, but I can see it. I can see the difference.

"I look... I don't know," she says quietly. "It feels weird."

"Weird how?" Avery asks, coming over to stand next to her.

"Like... like people can see me."

"That's the point, babe," I say gently. "That's exactly the point."

I position her in front of the three-way mirror and stand behind her, hands on her shoulders. "Look at yourself. Actually look."

She does, reluctantly. I watch her eyes scan her reflection—the way the dress follows her shape, the way it makes her look taller, more present. She's not invisible in this dress. She's *there*.

"I look different," she whispers.

"You look like yourself," I correct. "This is what you look like when you're not trying to hide."

"River's right," Avery adds. "Soph, you're beautiful. You've always been beautiful. We're just helping you see it."

Sophie's eyes get watery and I immediately jump in. "Nope. No crying. Crying ruins makeup and we haven't even gotten to the good stores yet. We're buying this dress. Try on the jeans next."

The jeans are harder. Sophie's used to wearing pants three sizes too big, so when she puts on a pair that actually fits, she freaks out.

"They're too tight," she calls from the fitting room.

"They're not too tight," I call back. "They're the right size. There's a difference."

"River, I can't—"

"Come out here."

"No."

"Sophie Marie, if you don't come out here right now, I'm coming in there."

The door opens a crack. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

She sighs and steps out. The jeans fit perfectly—high-waisted, dark wash, paired with the black sweetheart top. She looks like a completely different person. Not because she's changed, but because she's finally letting herself be seen.

"I hate you," she mutters, but there's no heat in it.

"You love me," I say. "And you're buying those jeans."

We spend the next three hours going from store to store. Lane Bryant, Eloquii, a boutique that specializes in plus-size fashion. With every outfit Sophie tries on, I can see her getting a little more comfortable. She starts making eye contact with the mirror. She stops immediately trying to cover herself up. She even smiles a few times.

At one point, she comes out of a fitting room wearing a fitted black dress with a leather jacket, and Avery literally wolf-whistles.

"Okay, now you're just showing off," I tease.

Sophie actually laughs. "I kind of like this one."

"You *kind of* like it?" I put a hand to my chest dramatically. "Sophie, you look like you could murder someone and get away with it. In the best way possible."

"River's right," Avery says. "That's a power outfit."

"A power outfit," Sophie repeats, like she's testing out the words. Then she looks at herself in the mirror again, and this time she doesn't look away. "Yeah. Okay. I like it."

By the time we stop for lunch, we've accumulated six bags of clothes. Sophie keeps looking at them like she can't believe they're hers.

"This is too much," she says as we sit down at the food court with our trays. "You guys spent so much money—"

"It's an investment," I interrupt. "An investment in you finally realizing you're allowed to take up space in the world."

"But—"

"No buts. Sophie, listen to me." I put down my fork and look at her seriously. "I've watched you hide for years. I've watched you make yourself smaller and quieter and invisible because you thought that's what you were supposed to do. And I get it. I really do. The world is cruel to people who don't fit into its tiny little boxes. But you know what? Screw the world. You deserve to be seen. You deserve to wear clothes that make you feel good. You deserve to walk into a room and own it."

"I don't know how to own a room," Sophie says quietly.

"Then we'll teach you," Avery says. "That's what friends are for."

Sophie's quiet for a moment, picking at her fries. Then she says, "I'm scared."

"Of what?" I ask.

"Of wearing this stuff to school. Of people noticing. Of Nathan saying something worse than he already does."

I reach across the table and grab her hand. "Soph, he's going to say something no matter what you wear. That's who he is. But the difference is, now you're not going to be wearing clothes that make you feel like you deserve it. You're going to be wearing clothes that make you feel like the badass you actually are."

"I'm not a badass."

"Not yet," I say with a grin. "But give it time."

We finish lunch and hit two more stores. By the time we're done, Sophie has a completely new wardrobe—jeans that fit, tops that show her shape, dresses that make her look confident and beautiful. We even convince her to buy a pair of heeled boots that she swears she'll never actually wear.

"You'll wear them," I say confidently. "Trust me."

As we're loading the bags into Avery's car, Sophie turns to me. "Thank you," she says. "For today. For... everything."

"Don't thank me yet," I say. "Wait until Monday when you walk into school and blow everyone's minds."

"I don't know if I can do it," she admits. "What if I chicken out?"

"Then we'll be there to push you," Avery says. "Literally if we have to."

I sling an arm around Sophie's shoulders. "You've got this, babe. I know you don't believe it yet, but you do. And even if you're terrified, even if you want to run back to your old hoodies and hide—we're not going to let you. Because you deserve better than invisible."

Sophie leans her head against my shoulder. "I'm really scared."

"I know," I say softly. "But you're also really brave. You just don't see it yet."

We drive Sophie home as the sun starts to set. She carries her bags up to her front door, then turns back to wave at us. She looks nervous but hopeful, and that's enough for now.

"Think she'll actually wear the clothes?" Avery asks as we pull away.

"She will," I say. "She has to. Because if she doesn't, I'm going to show up at her house Monday morning and dress her myself."

Avery laughs. "You would, too."

"Damn right I would," I say. "That's what best friends do."

And as we drive away, I can't help but smile. Because Monday is going to change everything. I can feel it.

Sophie just doesn't know it yet.