Open Case File [COMPLETED]

Starting High School

Let's face it, this would be hard for anyone.

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Sophia lay in bed contemplating her ceiling. True there was nothing on her ceiling to warrant the level of attention she was giving it, but she still she laid there staring at the blankness. When the mindless occupation didn't bring about sleep, she tossed aside her blanket and set her feet on the floor.

In the dimness of her room, she studied her worktable, wondering if putting her hands to work would solve her insomnia. And make the coil in her stomach dissipate.

Deciding it was worth testing the theory, she settled into her chair and clicked on her lamp. The pieces of a computer sat waiting for her. Mechanically, she began to assemble the computer, her mind barely registering her actions, her fingers knowing what to do almost has much as her brain.

But when the computer sat complete and Sophia still felt wide awake and nauseous, she left her room. Crossing to her parents' room, she eased the door open and slipped inside. She crept to the edge of the bed and knelt down by her sleeping father.

"Father," she whispered in French, not wishing to wake her Mama. "Father."

Mason stirred and peered at Sophia through narrowed eyes.

"Sophia," he murmured.

"I feel like I am going to throw up," she said, again in French.

Her father sat up, alert.

"Do not wake Mama," Sophia said.

Mason rubbed his eyes and slipped out of the blankets. Though she did in fact feel like throwing up, Sophia didn't direct their path towards the bathroom. Instead, she led her father downstairs to the kitchen where she started boiling water for tea.

Though there was the obvious question to be asked about why her actions contradicted her words, her father said nothing. He sat and accepted the cup of tea that Sophia offered him. Together they sat in the dim kitchen, saying nothing. Sophia savored the soothing presence of her father and the warm tea.

"You know I was nervous my first day of high school," Mason said, not looking at Sophia.

Sophia sipped her tea. "I find that highly improbable. You had already been the First Son for some time. You were a legacy at Hamilton. You are, and I imagine, were attractive at that time. You might have been less charismatic than you are now but I doubt it was to a significantly decreased degree that you didn't draw people to you." She looked at her father. "Am I wrong?"

"I wanted you to feel understood."

"You sitting with me is enough."

"Okay."

With that acceptance, they remained there until their tea was done and Sophia knew that waiting any longer to attempt sleep again would be pointless. At her bedroom door, her father wrapped her in a tight hug. Sophia returned it, feeling all the unspoken statements of encouragement her father transferred through the embrace. This unspoken language she knew.

"Will you be able to sleep?" Mason asked.

"The chances are low but I will try."

Her father kissed her head and waited until Sophia shut her door before leaving.

******

Sophia stood before her mirror inspecting herself in her uniform. Her mother had argued against having it tailored, saying it was a way that Sophia would stand out. Her father had countered with the fact that a majority of students had their uniforms tailored. Sophia voiced her opinion in wanting her uniform tailored.