Chapter 15
1094 Words
SOPHIE
I'm still lying on my bed two hours later, staring at the ceiling and replaying every moment from today.
Nathan's face when he walked into the community center and saw me. The way he asked if I *lived* there, like volunteering was some kind of punishment instead of something I chose. His half-hearted apology that felt more like an obligation than actual remorse.
But it's the other moments that keep circling back. The ones I can't quite figure out.
The way he got frustrated when I stayed professional. Like my calm was somehow worse than if I'd yelled at him or broken down. The questions he kept asking—*Why do you volunteer here? How long have you been doing this?*—like he was trying to solve some puzzle he didn't understand.
And that moment when I showed him how to mince garlic. When he actually listened. When he looked at me like he was seeing something he hadn't expected.
I don't know what to do with any of it.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand, and I reach for it without looking.
**River:** Girl. Emergency.
I sit up. **Me:** What's wrong?
**River:** Jake's having a party tonight and we are GOING.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. **Me:** That's your emergency?
**River:** YES. You've been in your room all afternoon processing and spiraling and I can FEEL it from here. We're going out.
**Me:** I'm tired.
**River:** You're always tired. That's what happens when you spend all your energy being the bigger person.
I stare at my phone, not sure how to respond to that.
Another text comes through: **River:** Come on, babe. When was the last time you did something normal? Something fun? Something that didn't involve being responsible or mature or holding it together?
He's not wrong. I can't remember the last time I went to a party. Or did anything that felt remotely teenagish.
**Me:** I don't know...
**River:** Sophie. You spent your morning with your bully. You held it together like a QUEEN. Now you deserve to let loose a little. Dance. Laugh. Be seventeen.
**Me:** What if people stare?
**River:** Let them stare. You look hot now, remember? Own it.
I smile despite myself. **Me:** You're relentless.
**River:** It's one of my best qualities. Now get your cute butt off that bed and put on something that makes you feel good. I'm picking you up in an hour.
**Me:** River—
**River:** NOT. NEGOTIABLE.
I look at my closet, at the new clothes hanging there. The jeans that fit. The tops that don't swallow me whole.
Part of me wants to say no. Wants to stay here in my room where it's safe and quiet and I don't have to perform for anyone.
But another part of me—the part that's been growing stronger since River and Avery dragged me to the mall—wants to say yes. Wants to do something reckless and normal and fun.
**Me:** Fine. But if it's terrible, I'm leaving.
**River:** Deal. See you in an hour, gorgeous.
I set my phone down and stare at my closet again.
An hour. That's not a lot of time to talk myself out of this.
I stand up and walk over to the clothes, running my fingers over the dark jeans and the fitted black top River insisted I buy. "For when you want to feel like a badass," he'd said.
I pull them out and lay them on my bed, then stand there staring at them like they might bite.
This is stupid. I don't go to parties. I don't crash social events where people like Nathan and his friends will be. I stay home and stay safe and stay invisible.
Except I'm not invisible anymore. Not really.
I think about Nathan's face today when I stayed calm. When I didn't give him the reaction he expected. The way it seemed to throw him off balance.
Maybe River's right. Maybe I do need to stop processing and just... live.
I grab the clothes and head to the bathroom before I can change my mind.
---
Forty-five minutes later, I'm standing in front of my mirror, barely recognizing myself.
The jeans fit perfectly. The black top is fitted but not tight, showing my shape without making me feel exposed. I even put on a little makeup—nothing dramatic, just enough to make me feel put together.
I look... good.
Not like someone else. Not like I'm trying to be Chloe or any of the other popular girls.
Just like me. But the version of me that's been hiding for too long.
My phone buzzes. **River:** Outside. And you better not be chickening out.
I take a deep breath, grab my jacket, and head downstairs.
Mom's in the living room watching TV. She looks up when I come down, and her eyebrows shoot up.
"You're going out?"
"River's taking me to a party," I say, trying to sound casual.
"A party?" She looks me up and down, and I can see her trying to process this. "You don't usually—"
"I know," I interrupt. "But I'm going."
She studies me for a moment, then nods slowly. "Okay. Be home by midnight."
"I will."
I'm out the door before she can say anything else.
River's car is idling at the curb, music already blasting. I climb into the passenger seat, and he immediately turns the volume down to look at me.
"Oh my God," he says. "You look amazing."
"I look the same as I did at school on Monday."
"No," he says, shaking his head. "You look *confident*. There's a difference."
I buckle my seatbelt, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in my stomach. "I can't believe I'm doing this."
"I can," River says, pulling away from the curb. "You're done letting Nathan and his friends dictate your life. This is you taking it back."
"It's just a party."
"It's never just a party," River says, grinning. "It's a statement. You're showing up. You're being seen. You're living your life."
I lean back in my seat and watch the streetlights blur past.
Maybe he's right. Maybe this is exactly what I need.
Not to process or analyze or hold it together.
Just to be seventeen. Just to exist without apologizing for it.
"Okay," I say quietly. "Let's do this."
River reaches over and squeezes my hand. "That's my girl."
And for the first time all day, I feel something other than exhaustion.
I feel ready.
- Writer
