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I never truly had friends, at least those who are genuine anyway. I was blind when it came to other people's intentions. Perhaps most are not aware of each other's, but still, they have this way of feeling, of gauging the aura of a person. And I didn't have it nor even knew others have it until few days away from my high school graduation.
It has been about nine years but I still remember the confusion and aching in my chest when I overheard one of the girls in my group of friends saying I was an unwanted dog that kept trailing after them. I did not fully understand that time. Those same girls who laughed and agreed are the same girls who used to smile brightly at me and comment on how much they love my clothes.
Later on, I did learn that people do that a lot: smile while they spoke of vile thoughts masked with compliments. I wondered if it was not exhausting. It would have been much easier if everybody laid their cards on the table.
My gaze fell on the dark blonde haired girl sitting on the loveseat, reading "Brave new world." Even without lying to her, I'm very much hiding my true intentions as to why I'm spending time with her. I was a hypocrite. But did I mind? Not particularly. It did not bother me at all when I know we're both getting something out of it, just that she's getting the shorter end of the stick (my idioms are certainly getting better).
Sophie wasn't lying when she said she would "shadow" me. She showed up at the bookstore while I was on my shift. I expected her presence to be distracting but she mostly kept to herself in the reading nook after greeting me. I didn't mind her being in my workspace but I couldn't help but notice she wasn't as upbeat as yesterday nor the day at the café. But then again, happiness is fleeting just as all other emotions, so I've read.
After my shift ended we found ourselves sitting at another café I have never been to. It has been a long day and I was more than ready to retire to bed but I forced myself to keep the girl company.
"Why do you keep looking at me?" I asked as I put the pamphlet I picked up earlier down on the table. Sophie has glanced at me four times before I can even finish the first page and the weight of her stare was preventing me from reading.
Her lips formed a bashful smile as a light shade of pink appeared on her cheeks. "Sorry. Does it bother you?"
"No. I just want to know."
Grinning, she leaned her head on the palm of her hand. "You're a sight for sore eyes."
Sore eyes?
I closed my eyes immediately, fearing it has already been transmitted to me as I've directly gazed at her eyes several times already. How did I not notice?
"What are you doing?"
"Sore eyes are highly contagious." I wasn't going to risk it. Surely I would be asked not to come to work.
"But..." A laugh so jovial came from the girl in front of me and I couldn't help but wonder what was so funny. Does she not worry about others? "Sabine, first of all." Sophie giggled. "I don't have sore eyes. What I meant was you're very attractive. Second, sore eyes are contagious but it cannot be transmitted through eye contact!"
"I find it hard to believe you." Mother warned me of it when I was a kid. Charles had sore eyes one day and I made the mistake of looking directly in his eyes because that night, my eyes started to itch and redden.
Sophie laughed once again and I thought she was mocking me. I should be angry, shouldn't I?
Before I can even scowl, Sophie's soft voice cut me off, explaining that it is indeed highly contagious but it could be transmitted through direct contact with the person. It seems like she knows what she's saying and it does make more sense.
Slowly, I peeked with one eye and inspected her eyes as fast as I could, searching for hints of redness on them. There was none, thankfully.
We've spent an hour more merely chatting until the clock hit ten minutes after five. By then the café was buzzing with students typing away on their laptops.
I was ready to part ways when we stood by the door but Sophie seemed to have other plans. "Walk me home?"
"What are you, a dog?"
She chuckled, the corner of her eyes crinkling. She looked better than she did earlier. "Please?"
I shrugged, allowing her to lead the way. For the $200,000.
"Sorry if I'm a bit slow today. I was so drained from our walk yesterday that I practically collapsed on my bed." Sophie laughed quietly but it didn't feel right.
"You apologize too much."
"Sorry." Her eyes widened, quickly covering her mouth when she caught herself. "No, I mean-- nevermind. I just don't want to offend you or something."
"It's likely that you won't. So just...be yourself, I guess."
Glancing at me, she squinted, as if to challenge. "What if you won't like who I truly am?"
"Then I don't deserve to be your friend." Sophie ought to be selfish and stop trying to impress someone who doesn't care. "What's there not to like anyways?" I made a show of looking her up and down, stopping at her hair. "Probably your scrunchie and...yeah that's about it."
Sophie threw her head back as she laughed, even letting a squeal come out. "You know how to joke!"
"It wasn't a joke."
"Oh." Her smile turned into a pout as she fingered the scrunchie holding her hair. "Meanie."
The walk to her home was unfamiliar. I have only been to the nicer part of town a couple of times but never in this secluded neighborhood with towering gates and the greenest of grass. The houses were grand, but too much.
The sudden grip on my arm caused me to quickly glance at the girl beside me who I assumed was recovering from tripping over the air. Sophie looked up at me with a goofy smile before sliding her hand away from my arm. "You're so pretty that I keep falling for you."
Not knowing how to respond, I merely mumbled a thanks, focusing instead on the street ahead of us.
It didn't take long for us to stop in front of a black gate lined with bamboos that completely covered the view of the white bungalow from the outside. The wall stretched so far for me to safely guess that Sophie's house extended up to the small forest as the house was located at the end of the street.
Looking out of place was a guy sitting by the narrow stairs leading to the gate. Finn, with his hair far more disheveled than the first time I met him, stood up once he saw us.
Sophie took a step back and I noticed how her hands balled into a fist while her entire body seemed to stiffen. "I don't want to talk to you right now." She gritted her teeth and I can't help but notice the stark contrast to the bright girl I was talking to not a minute ago. "Not right now, Finn. Please just-- not now."
With a sigh, Finn stepped away from the gate, acknowledged me with a nod, then walked without so much as a goodbye. I watched as he got into his car, leaving me to wonder what he did that seemed to upset Sophie so much.
