The Stupendous Springer

Episode 1: Exposure, Chapter 4

It was rainy that morning. The dark clouds from the night before had matured into sheets of water-harbinging grayness. The rain came in quantities not torrential enough to warrant any real concern while driving, but did come in quantities that required some kind of wetness-preventing clothing. It was not enough to induce fear, but enough to annoy, and certainly to bring down any already-low spirits.

Sophie did not care. It might as well have been sunny and clear. This was not because her spirits were unfathomably high, much the opposite. She was still subdued and tepid compared to her normal demeanor, but even this was more chatty than the day before. The true difference was that where yesterday even the slightest upset would have caused her to waver, today, she was reinforced, staunch, and solid. She was not on a peak, nor was she on a trough, but she was immovable nonetheless. That alone was enough to make a world of difference.

Finally, she spoke with Holly about normal things in the car on the way to school. She had missed those normal, stupid, banal things. Holly had streamed a movie the night before she was not pleased with, and Sophie did her best to fire her friend up even more by ironically playing the Devil's Advocate. Holly raged, Sophie laughed, and they both had a good time. The absolute best part of it, however, was that, flying against expectations, the good time did not stop as soon as the two reached school. They kept chatting across the parking lot, into the school, down the halls, to their lockers, and up to Sophie's first class. The same stares from yesterday littered the path there, along with the hushes, giggles, and leers. They simply did not affect her this time.

That was not entirely true, Sophie admitted to herself. They did affect her, at least a little. However, last time, it was as if she had caved under the weight of others' perceptions of her. They had seen a fleshy rubber band, and the person beneath had done nothing to push free from that. This morning, while she was ignoring the sting of the glances as much as she could, she did notice that they were fewer and less intense than the day before. As little as the difference was, either the initial shock of her transformation had worn off from those around her, or her fighting back was working already. As long as she kept being herself, rather than being done in by others' perceptions, she kept their preconceived notions on the defensive. Maybe someday, for some of them, those perceptions would be worn down completely.

It was the fourth day of the week, and the fourth lunch period. Sophie was one of the first ones there, taking a deep breath as she surveyed the room in which three days before she had covertly swallowed an entire apple. She smiled to herself at the thought, though the smile faded when she remembered that six days before in this room, she had been frustratedly jamming away to drum loops on her phone as if her next internet release was the most important thing in the world. What a simple, unassuming life she had just been thrown from. Sophie took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she made her way into the lunch room. She had been thrown in the deep end, but she was already learning to tread water in her new social situation. She just needed to keep at it. Soon treading in place would turn to powerful strokes that carried her wherever she wanted to go.

Right now, she wanted to go to her normal seating place, next to Verity and the others. She actually managed to make it there before Verity, for once, so she set out her dried raincoat to the side of her to save seats. She wasted no time in unpacking her lunch, her turkey-provolone sandwich on ciabatta making her mouth water just at the sight of it. Squishy teeth be damned, she chomped the sandwich like a shark on a tuna and tore off a bite hungrily, taking a few much-appreciated seconds to savor the flavor.

"Hey Sophie," said a voice Sophie barely recognized. The voice was Verity's, so it was not as if Sophie had not heard it commonly in the past, more that she had never heard it so . . . not-enthusiastic.