When I heard the bell ring at the end of my visual arts class I was relieved—it was lunchtime and my canvas didn’t exactly scream genius to anyone. As I headed down the hall, I heard a static hiss coming from a few doors away. No one else seemed to notice, but I walked over to see what it was—it sounded like someone welding. When I got to the door to peek inside, the window was covered, though I saw flashes of light. I was still curious, so I decided to open the door and look through the crack.
I put my hand on the metal doorknob. I yelped out in pain and everything went dark.
“Alex? Alex! Wake up!”
I felt someone shaking me and I opened my eyes.
Sophi.
“What happened?” I croaked. My hand felt hot and my head throbbed.
“I … was soldering some metal for my sculpture, and I must have … overheated the metal on the door or something. I heard you yell, and you were passed out when I found you,” she responded.
That didn’t seem right. I sat up and rubbed my head. “I’ll be okay.”
Sophi looked relieved. She got up, grabbed a cup near a sink in one corner of the room, and filled it up with water for me. I looked at the sculpture she was working on—it was a female form made of shiny metal with her left hand held out. There was a zigzag coming out of the palm.
“It’s lightning,” she said. “She’s supposed to be a goddess.”
“Right. Cool.”
We stood silently as I stared at it some more.
“So, were you going to ever talk to me again or not?”
“I mean, sure, but—”
“I was under the impression that we had a nice conversation in your notebook. I don’t appreciate being ignored.”
“It wasn’t my fault. I was told not to talk to you.”
Wrong answer. She narrowed her gaze at me. “And you listened to this authority on talking to me?”
“It was your boyfriend. Flab.”
She put her face in her hands and shook her head. “What a jerk.”
That was enough for me. I started walking toward the door, but Sophi grabbed my arm.
“Why are you leaving?” she asked.
“You called me a jerk!”
“No, not you. Flab … I mean, Jared.”
His real name was Jared. And he was the jerk. Yes! He was!
“That boyfriend thing is just a misunderstanding,” she said.
“He’s not your boyfriend?” She shook her head. I secretly did a series of cartwheels in my head but tried to keep a straight face. “What happened?”
“I told you, it was a misunderstanding. Let‘s leave it at that.”
Sophi grabbed her long hair and pulled it over her shoulder, twisting it nervously. I only had twenty-five minutes left of my lunch period. I had to try to fix this.
“I’m sorry I asked.”
She sighed. “I know he’s trying to make your life a living hell.”
“Can you make him stop?” I asked hopefully.
Sophi shook her head at me, her dangly earrings moving with her. “Jared’s always been like that, even in grade school. He always wanted to be a football player and run the school.”
“And I have to deal with him every day, now that I’m on the football team.” For the moment, anyway.
She looked surprised. I guess her not-boyfriend hadn’t told her. “You don’t seem too happy about it.”
“It’s always been my dream to play football. But Flab—I mean, Jared—isn’t too happy about it. I’m sure he’ll figure out a way to get me off the team, out of the school, and moved to another town.”
“Boys are such jerks,” she replied. “But you and I have the same problem. We can’t get him to stop hounding us.”
We both laughed. I glanced up at the clock in the room. I had a quiz in American history that I needed to cram for. “Sorry, but I gotta run. I’ll see you tomorrow in math?”
“Maybe you’ll sit next to me again,” she said with a smile.
“Let’s keep this quiet for now so we don’t get into any trouble.”
Uh-oh. She looked furious. “You’re going to let him decide who you get to talk to or hang out with? I told you, he’s not my boyfriend; it‘s not right to let him stop you.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’ll torture me anyway.”
“You’re just like all the other football players! Go to lunch. I hope he beats you up,” she said. She picked up her hammer, pointed it at me, and motioned toward the door.
“But you understand why I’m doing this, right?” I said, my voice reaching its highest pitch.
“Leave!” she yelled.
When I walked into math the next couple of days, Sophi didn’t even look at me. She blew right by me when the bell rang. I tried to find her in the art building again, but she wasn’t there. And I wasn’t about to open mysterious blacked-out doors again to find her.