HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS

Chapter 5: Silent Spaces

                                  Emma's POV:

The soft knock on my bedroom door was the only warning I got before my mom peeked her head inside. She had that bright, slightly forced smile on her face that she always wore when she was trying to be the "perfect" mom, the one who had it all together.

"Hey, sweetie," she said, stepping inside. "We're going shopping in a bit. Thought you might want to join us."

I glanced up from my sketchbook, my pencil hovering mid-drawing. "Us?"

"Sophie and I," she clarified, as if that somehow made it more appealing. "Just some girl time, you know? We thought we'd hit a few stores, maybe grab lunch."

The idea of spending a whole afternoon watching my mom and Sophie bond over clothes and accessories didn't exactly thrill me. It wasn't like I had anything against Sophie—she was fine, bubbly and always trying to be friendly—but watching her connect with my mom in ways I couldn't stung more than I'd admit.

Still, I forced a smile, nodding. "Sure. I'll come."

"Great!" Mom said, her smile widening, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "We'll leave in about fifteen minutes, okay?"

I nodded again, watching as she left the room with a little too much excitement in her step. As soon as she was gone, I let out a quiet sigh, dropping the pencil onto the sketchbook. I wasn't sure why I even agreed to go. Every time I watched them together, it only made me feel more out of place.

A few minutes later, we were in the car, my mom in the driver's seat, and Sophie riding shotgun, chattering away about some sale she'd seen online. I sat quietly in the backseat, half-listening to their conversation, already feeling like an outsider in my own family.

As we drove toward the shopping center, I watched the way my mom and Sophie interacted. The way they laughed easily, like they'd been doing this for years ; because they've been doing this for years. Sophie's voice was light and cheerful, and Mom hung onto her every word, laughing at her jokes, commenting on her style tips. It was like watching an old movie where everything seemed perfect, except I wasn't part of it. I was just... there. An extra on the set.

"Mom, you have to try on that dress I showed you last time," Sophie said, scrolling through her phone. "It would look amazing on you!"

Mom laughed, glancing over at her. "I don't know, Sophie. You know I'm not as fashionable as you."

"Please! You'd look stunning," Sophie insisted, nudging her playfully.

I looked out the window, feeling a lump form in my throat. It wasn't that I didn't get along with Sophie—I did, in the distant, polite way that stepsiblings often did. But watching her bond with my mom like that? It reminded me of everything that had changed since I'd moved here. My mom wasn't the same with me anymore. She wasn't even trying to be.

It had been like this for a while now. Ever since she married Miles' dad, it felt like she'd found her new role—playing the perfect wife, the perfect stepmom to Sophie. And I was the piece that didn't fit, like some remnant from her old life that didn't quite belong here. The only time she really talked to me was when she needed to smooth things over, to make sure I was still "adjusting" okay.

But we weren't close. Not like they were. Not like we used to be, back when it was just me , her and granny living in New York. Before she became someone I barely recognized.

"You okay back there, Emma?" my mom asked suddenly, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied, giving her a small smile.

"Don't be so quiet!" Sophie added with a grin. "We're supposed to be having fun today."

I nodded, forcing another smile, but the truth was, it felt like I was just watching their fun from the outside. Like I didn't belong in this version of our life, the one where my mom had a new family to bond with. I wanted to say something, to let them know how I felt, but the words stuck in my throat.

We pulled into the parking lot of the shopping center, and I braced myself for the next few hours. More small talk, more pretending everything was fine. But deep down, I knew it wasn't.

I didn't know how to tell her that I missed her. The version of her that was still mine. The mom who hadn't replaced me. I missed the life we had six years ago , the way we would eat instant noodles under a cozy blanket and watch our favorite show , when we would play board games all three of us and laughing over granny's jokes .

But i just realized that my mom always wanted this luxurious life , to live in a mansion, shopping , the extravagant parties and the attention . But i wasn't like her , i would never be like her .

I went back to reality when we entered the first store . I kept looking around the store , i watched my mom puck some dresses , if someone told me six years ago that mom would be wearing this kind of clothes , i would laugh at their faces .

Sophie slowed down to match my pace and nudged me playfully "need any help?" She smiled .

"No thank you . I don't plan on buying anything" i said as i adjusted my cardigan.

"Okay as you like" Sophie smiled and walked again toward mom .

We moved through a few more stores, the pattern repeating—Sophie picking out outfits, my mom joining in, their laughter filling the air. I couldn't help but notice how much my mom glowed around her, how different she seemed. It was like Sophie brought out a side of her that I hadn't seen in a long time. A side that used to be for me.

As the afternoon dragged on, I found myself wishing more and more that I hadn't come. What was the point of being here if I was just going to feel like this—left out, like a spectator in my own life?

By the time we sat down for lunch, I could barely fake the smile anymore. My mom and Sophie chatted easily across the table, sharing inside jokes and stories that I had no part in. I pushed my food around my plate, trying to focus on anything else but the gnawing feeling in my chest.

"Emma, you okay?" my mom asked suddenly, glancing over at me with mild concern.

I looked up, startled by the question. "Yeah, I'm fine," I said automatically, offering the usual empty reassurance.

She gave me a quick nod, as if accepting my answer without digging deeper. Then, just like that, the conversation shifted back to Sophie, leaving me in the quiet again.

I wished I could tell her the truth. That I wasn't fine. That I felt lost and disconnected, like I was slipping away from her without her even noticing. But the words stayed stuck in my throat, swallowed down by the familiar fear of being ignored or brushed aside.

So I stayed silent. Silent and alone, even when I was sitting right next to them.