Kiss Me On Cue

Sophie tugged at the hem of her hoodie for the hundredth time that morning. The worn-out fabric sagged over her stomach, like a curtain hiding a painting she wished she could destroy. She stared at the mirror, eyes tracing the curve of her cheeks and the soft folds along her jaw. She hated them. “Sophie, you’re going to be late!” Mom’s voice filtered through the door, laced with impatience. “Coming,” she muttered, grabbing her backpack from the floor. She took one last look in the mirror and sighed. The mirror didn’t care. It never lied. Downstairs, the kitchen smelled like burnt toast and last night’s microwave dinner. Mom stood by the counter, rummaging through a cluttered stack of bills and half-opened envelopes. She wore the same frazzled expression she’d been wearing since Dad left—like she was balancing too many plates and they were all about to crash. “Morning,” Sophie mumbled. “Eat something,” Mom ordered without looking up. “You’re always skipping breakfast.” “I’m not hungry,” Sophie lied. Her stomach churned with nerves, but it wasn’t the kind of hunger that food could fix. Mom sighed, exasperated, and waved a hand dismissively. “Fine. Just—get going. Don’t be late.” Sophie slung her backpack over one shoulder and pushed through the front door. The morning air was cool and damp, a small mercy in a world that felt too big for her. The walk to school was a quiet one, the click of her shoes on the pavement her only company. She’d always preferred it that way. When people were around, they stared—or worse, they pretended not to. The whispers followed her like shadows. Did you see her at the pool last year? Gross. I heard she’s so heavy, she broke a chair. She probably eats like a pig. Sophie’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. She tried to shake the voices out of her head, but they clung like burrs. She reached the school gates just as a group of girls passed by, led by Alyssa. Alyssa was all legs, shiny hair, and fake smiles. Her laugh was like nails on a chalkboard to Sophie. “Oh my god, it’s the whale,” Alyssa sneered to her friend, just loud enough for Sophie to hear. Sophie kept her eyes down, focused on the sidewalk cracks, her breath catching. “Nice hoodie, Sophie,” Alyssa called out. “Did you get that from a tent sale?” Laughter erupted, high-pitched and cruel. Sophie’s face burned. She wanted to disappear. “Just ignore them,” she whispered to herself, but her voice was a shaky thread. She reached her locker and fumbled with the combination. Her hands were trembling, and she hated how weak that made her feel. A memory of Dad’s voice floated up: You have to be strong, kiddo. People are mean. Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you hurt. The lock clicked open. She shoved her bag inside and tried to compose herself. “Hey, Soph.” Katie’s voice. Her best friend—at least she used to be. Sophie turned around. Katie had a nervous smile on her face, eyes darting like she was checking for witnesses. “Hey,” Sophie replied, trying to sound casual. Katie twirled a strand of her honey-blonde hair. “So, um… Did you hear about the play?” Sophie frowned. “What play?” Katie’s eyes widened like she’d stepped in something she couldn’t scrape off. “The school’s putting on a modern Romeo and Juliet. Auditions are today.” “Oh,” Sophie said. “That’s cool.” Katie shifted from foot to foot. “Yeah, um… Alyssa told me she signed you up to audition.” “What?” Sophie’s heart dropped. Katie rushed on. “I—I thought it was a joke, you know? Like—” Sophie’s chest tightened. “Like humiliating me on purpose?” Katie’s face crumpled. “No! I mean—maybe? But Alyssa said she’d hate me forever if I didn’t help. She’s really scary, Soph. I’m sorry.” Sophie felt like the hallway was closing in. She took a step back. “So you helped her? You’re supposed to be my friend.” “I am!” Katie protested, eyes filling with tears. “I just… I didn’t think they’d actually call your name or—” Sophie cut her off. “Save it. I have to go.” She turned on her heel, head down, tears threatening. She wouldn’t let them fall. Not here. Not where everyone could see. “Please, Soph,” Katie called after her. “Don’t be mad.” But Sophie didn’t turn around. In the drama room, a small cluster of students buzzed with excitement. Posters of past productions lined the walls: Grease, The Wizard of Oz, Our Town. Sophie hovered near the door, invisible but painfully aware of every glance in her direction. Mr. Daniels, the drama teacher, a thin man with a patchy beard and an infectious grin, clapped his hands. “Alright, everyone! Let’s get started!” His eyes scanned the room. “First up, Sophie Thompson!” Sophie froze. Her stomach bottomed out. She’d been hoping maybe—somehow—her name would disappear from the list. Mr. Daniels beamed at her. “Come on up, Sophie! Let’s hear what you’ve got.” Her feet felt like concrete. She forced herself forward, the giggles and whispers like knives at her back. She reached the center of the stage and took the script Mr. Daniels handed her. Her hands shook. “Just read the highlighted lines,” he said gently. “Take your time.” She stared at the words on the page, but they blurred. She blinked hard, swallowed, and began. “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?” Her voice was small, shaky. She could feel Alyssa’s eyes on her like laser beams. A cough from the back of the room. “Deny thy father and refuse thy name—” Her voice cracked. Laughter erupted. Alyssa’s voice: “Did she just squeak like a mouse?” Sophie’s cheeks flamed. She wanted to run, to hide, to melt into the floor. Mr. Daniels held up a hand. “Thank you, Sophie. That’s enough.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. She fled the stage, blinking back tears. “Wait—Sophie!” She turned around, startled. Mr. Daniels jogged after her. “You were wonderful,” he said. “Really. I felt your emotion. That’s what matters most.” She shook her head, ashamed. “No, I—I can’t do this. It’s a joke. I’m a joke.” He looked genuinely confused. “A joke? Who said that?” She hesitated. “They all did,” she whispered. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, Sophie. Theater is for everyone. And you—” he smiled warmly—“you’ve got something special. Don’t let them take that away.” Sophie’s heart twisted. Could she believe that? By the time the final bell rang, Sophie felt like a ghost. She avoided everyone’s eyes, even Katie’s apologetic ones. She just wanted to go home and disappear. At her locker, she fumbled with the combination, hands trembling. Her chest felt too tight. The tears she’d been holding back all day threatened to spill over. “You okay?” The voice startled her. Deep, rough-edged, but oddly gentle. She turned. Liam Carter leaned against the row of lockers, arms crossed. His leather jacket made him look like trouble, but his eyes—green with flecks of gold—were soft. “What do you care?” she snapped, harsher than she intended. He shrugged. “Just looked like you could use a friend.” Sophie scoffed. “Why? So you can laugh at me too?” His expression darkened. “I don’t laugh at people who fight their battles every day. I respect them.” She didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded toward the drama room. “I heard you got the lead.” Her face burned. “Yeah. As a joke.” Liam’s gaze sharpened. “Well, screw them. You’re better than they are.” Sophie blinked, surprised. “What do you know about it?” He shrugged again. “More than you think.” She searched his face for a lie, but found none. He smirked. “So, Juliet, you gonna quit or prove them wrong?” She wanted to laugh. “Quit, obviously.” He stepped closer, his voice low but sincere. “Don’t. I’ll help you.” Sophie’s heart stuttered. “Why would you do that?” Liam leaned in, his breath warm. “Because I hate bullies. And because… maybe I like the idea of kissing you on stage.” Sophie’s breath caught. Her cheeks flamed. Before she could respond, Liam pushed off the lockers and walked away, leaving her stunned and curious in his wake. Sophie leaned back against the locker, the echo of his words ringing in her ears. Kissing her on stage. She didn’t know whether to run or to smile. But for the first time in a long while, her heart felt—just maybe—light enough to hope.