Loving Sofia

L
oving
S
ofia

Alina Man

All rights reserved.  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.  This book may not be resold or given away to others unless a separate copy has been purchased.  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 Alina Man

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Alina-Man

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WARNING: Advised for audiences 17+ years.

*Includes a sample of Finding My Way Home

DEDICATION

To “tati”

Love you always and forever.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I couldn’t have written this book without the support of my family.  A special thank you to my husband Romeo for always being there for me; you are my rock.  To my wonderful boys, Stefan, Daniel and Nicholas, I love you more than words could say. Daniel - keep dreaming and making music because that’s what makes life more interesting. 

To Norma Ruiz (my sista), Marcia Woodell, Skye Roth Turner, Donna Fisher (love your Friday pics), Angel Davis Perry – thank you so much for all the encouragement. Love you guys.

To the indie author community: Tiffany King, Lila Felix, Misty Provencher
, Nyrae Dawn, Nicole Kuhn (to name a few) - you are my inspiration.  

For all the wonderful ladies that took the time to beta read this story – I can’t thank you enough.

Last, but not least, a special thank you to my editor, Amber Bungo who makes all my stories better. 

Sofia

“You think you know it all don’t you, you stupid girl?  Well guess what?  I am the one that decides what you do, when you do it, and that will never change.  You are just like your father.  Wearing your feelings on your sleeves.  Get your lazy ass up and make me coffee.  Now, you stupid girl.”

I woke up crying.  Again.  The same nightmare, only this time it lasted longer.  I knew it was just a dream, yet I couldn’t get out of it. 

I force myself out of bed to get ready for a job I no longer wanted to go to.  I look around my room and realize that I’m really fortunate to have my best friend.  It’s because of her that I no longer have to live in fear under my mother’s shadow.  Because of her, I get to live in this amazing condo.  It is because of Mona that, little by little, I am starting to have more confidence in myself and what I’m capable of. 

I’m ready and out the door in fifteen minutes, still trying to push the bad dream out of my head.  The office is far enough from our place to give me plenty of time to think of other things.  I park my car in front of the building and take a moment to look around the parking lot.  As usual, it’s empty.  I’m always the first one here, just the way I like it. 

The day goes by uneventfully.  I forget to eat lunch, yet again, and spend the entire day doing the things that others are supposed to be doing.  By four o’clock, I’m ready to crawl under the desk and take a nap. 

I am so glad today is almost over.  I log off my computer and spend the last ten minutes of my workday organizing my desk.  I can hear laughter from the office next door and once again I feel like an outsider.  I’ve been working here for over three years and yet everyone still considers me the “new girl
.”  Before you judge me, let me just say it’s not because I haven’t tried to get to know my co-workers. The thing is, they are all friends, even outside of the work setting, and they act as if they are part of some secret club where memberships are no longer available to the “outsiders.” 

I think I stopped caring about it after the first six months on the job, and aside from the work-related conversations, I try to stay out of everyone’s way.  I wasn’t about to change that this evening.  Let them have their fun. If gossiping about everyone in the company is considered fun.  I can feel a migraine coming and decide to take some Motrin in hopes that it will lull the pain.  Of all days, my mom picked today to call and check up on me.  She hasn’t done so in a few months, so it came as a surprise when I answered and heard her voice.  By the end of our ten minute conversation, she succeeded in making me feel worthless and lonely. In short, she made me feel like crap.  

I pushed the vivid memory aside and after locking my office, I waved goodbye to my boss and left the building.  The sun was setting, painting the sky in different shades of orange and red.  I love this time of day
. I can finally breathe and relax. It’s a time when work is left behind and my day can finally start.

The freeway is packed but there’s nothing new about that
. I pop in the Twilight audio book and for the next hour it keeps me company, making my drive a lot more pleasurable.  It takes a little over an hour, but I finally reach home. As I park in front of the garage, I think of how fortunate I am.  I love the place I call home, though most of all I love the friend I share the house with.  I owe her so much, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank her enough.

“Birdie, is that you?”  I hear Mona’s voice coming from her bedroom.  I don’t know if I’m ready for this.  After my crappy day
, all I want is to take a long hot bath and read until I fall asleep.  I drop my keys in my pocket and walk up to her room.  “Hey, there you are.  So what do you think I should wear tonight,” she asks with the excitement of a ten year old who is about to open her Christmas presents. 

“Mona you could wear a trash bag and still look sexy as hell.”  My best friend is one of those blessed girls in every possible way; from her long blond
e hair and beautiful emerald eyes, to her supermodel body with mile long legs.  “Listen, I don’t know if I can make it tonight.  I had a long day and am telling you now, I won’t be good company.”

Mona takes a deep breath and I have to brace myself for what is about to come out of her lovely mouth.  “Now you listen to me
, and listen well my friend. I love you with all my heart, but if you bail on me tonight, I swear to God I’ll never talk to you EVER again.  There’s no way in hell I’m celebrating my birthday without you.”

I know she’s bluffing about the never-talk-to-you-again thing
, but I still don’t want to upset her on her b-day. “Gotcha.  I’ll be ready in a few minutes.  By the way, isn’t this supposed to be a surprise?” I yell as I pull my scrubs off and get ready to shower.  I can no longer hear her answer but it doesn’t really matter anyway. 

Sometimes I really wonder how we became friends
. We get along so well but we are different in every possible way.  I met Ramona the first week of my senior year.  I’d just moved to the States with my mother, and hated everything about the move.  It was another “adventure” that my mom dragged me into, and because of my age, it wasn’t like I could protest. 

Mona, as she liked to be called, was the only person that reached out to me and made me feel welcomed.  I didn’t really fit with the rest of the
kids at school. If my petite frame didn’t stand out, my accent did for sure.  Yet she never once made fun of me, and we’ve been friends ever since.  That was ten years ago.

After high school we decided to move in together
. Sometimes I think she did that just to help me get away from home.  She didn’t have to move since her parents’ place was big enough where she could still have privacy, but yet she made it sound like I was doing her a favor by agreeing to be roommates.  Honestly it was the best decision I ever made – moving in with her. 

Looking back
, I remember how much fun we had while looking for a place.  We didn’t have jobs, both of us getting ready for college, yet Mona already had a very long wish list. We found a condo in a gated community in an upper class neighborhood. A place I could never afford on my own even if I was working.  Her parents were really excited for us and pretty much paid for the first year of rent.  There was no way to argue with them even though I was feeling a little uncomfortable by their generosity.

There’s not one thing that I don’t love about our place.  It has two large bedrooms with on-suite bathrooms, a large living room
, and the most amazing kitchen an avid cook like me could ask for.  Compared to what Mona grew up with, our condo is nothing to brag about, but for me it is heaven.  The day we signed the lease she couldn’t stop laughing as she watched me do a happy dance around the house.  That was a great day indeed.

Once I finished showering I went to my closet to decide on what to wear.  It would be so much easier if my heart was into this.  Mona walks in all dressed up and looking like the Victoria Secret model she is.  I really envy her long and slender body.  At five feet one, give or take, I am really small compared to her five ten figure.  Being so short (and apparently always jumping from one thing to another) is what got me the “Birdie” nickname in high school and as Sugarland would say, it stuck to me like glue.  I shivered remembering how some would call out in the hallway “Here comes the hummingbird
,” and laugh like idiots. Nothing funny about that but in our high school there weren’t many bright guys, thus the reason why I never dated any of them.

While I didn’t grow even an inch taller, the rest of my body filled in nicely.  During college I got asked a few times if I had “enhanced” parts of my body, especially my chest.  Some even went the extra mile and asked if they could touch them. After several failed attempts, I stopped denying it and let everyone come up with their own conclusions. 

“Why don’t you wear that new black dress you got last week,” Mona asks as she checks herself in my long mirror. 

Does it really matter what I’m wearing, I wonder?  She is the birthday girl after all
, and it’s not like I’m going to meet anyone new at the party; not that I’m looking anyway.  I stopped believing in fairytales a very long time ago.  Unless someone can introduce me to Edward Cullen, I’m really not interested in anyone else.  Maybe I’m nuts, but really how awesome is he, sparkles and all.  Oh and rich, let’s not forget rich.

Our group of friends is relatively small and it never changes.  The same people, same place, same everything.  Together with Mona’s boyfriend, Jonathan, and his best friend Mark, there’s about fifteen of us.  We all met the last year of college at a frat party and we tried to stay in touch as much as our busy lives allowed us. 

Jonathan and Mark grew up together and they are as different from each other as Mona and I are.  They are both over six feet and muscular from all the high school and college sports they’ve been involved in, but the similarities end there.  Jonathan is prim and proper just like Mona, coming from a very high profile family.  Both his parents are doctors and he knew from a very young age that he was going to be one also.  His light hair almost matches Mona’s, and what draws you to his face are the honey-colored eyes. 

Mark has this awesome “I don’t give a crap about your opinion” attitude and it shows in the way he carries himself.  His dark hair is longer than Jon’s and he has the most amazing clear blue eyes.  He lost his parents when he was still in high school.  His grandparents raised him and while they were not poor, he knew all about hard work. 

His grandfather owned a small construction company and taught Mark everything there was to know about the business.  When he passed away, Mark took over the business, while still in college, and he was now pretty successful.  His grandma was the nicest person I’ve ever met, and when she passed away last year, it hit us all really hard. 

Jonathan and Mona started dating about two years ago and he pretty much worships the ground she walks on.  While I’m really happy for her, I sometimes wish my life was a little bit more like hers.  My love li
fe sucks, to say the least.  Growing up, my mother made sure to point out all my shortcomings. To this day I still have trust issues and this crazy habit of questioning everyone’s intentions.  It is exhausting and because of this I feel I’m better off alone. 

I put the black dress on, a pair of red heels that are pretty much going to kill me by the end of the night, and the obligatory makeup (Mona would kill me if I didn’t put it on
.)  As I’m taking a last look at myself in the mirror, the bell rings.  Mona leaves the room to answer the door and I can hear Mark’s voice filling the living room. I grab my wrap and as I walk in the room they both turn at the same time; their looks make me question my attire.

“Wow Birdie,” Mark says and his ocean blues look me up and down, making my skin flush.  “You look… WOW.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I’ve never been good with compliments, even when they were coming from one of my best friends.  “Am I going to be the DD tonight?  I really don’t mind.”

Mona put her silver jacket over the tight jumpsuit and throws the car keys at me.  “There you go.  I know you want to drive my car
, so go for it.  And hell YES to the DD.  I’m going to get wasted,” she screams and I can’t help but laugh. 

Mark opens the door for us and we walk the few steps to the garage.  As much as we loved our condo
, we couldn’t believe just how lucky we got when we found out it had an attached garage.  It was the icing on the cake.

“I can drive Birdie.” I look at Mark and try to keep my voice light.

“It’s ok, I don’t mind.  I never get to drive her baby.”  My smile takes away any doubt he has.  The truth is, I really love her car, probably more than she does.  Her dad gave it to her as a graduation gift.  Nothing is ever good enough for his little girl.  Before I can help it, my eyes get moist as I remember how close I used to be to my dad.

Snap out of it
, I tell myself.  I can’t spend my friend’s birthday dwelling on the past.  That was a long time ago, and a life I no longer desire to remember.

MARK

I walk into their apartment and as soon as she comes into view my heart starts beating really fast
. I can hear it in my ears.  Holy crap she looks good.  How am I going to make it the entire evening with her looking like that?  I already knew I was going to have to keep a bunch of horny bastards away from her and that alone has always been a pain in the ass.  I don’t like anyone looking at her like she’s their next best meal. 

I met Birdie four years ago at a party
, and from the very first day I set my eyes on her, I knew she was the one.  Her dark hair covers her back in long waves that beg to be touched.  It feels likes silk; I should know it since she really loves it when I play with her hair.  She never wears makeup and she has a classic beauty that just takes my breath away.  And her mouth… Oh God I could write a book just about her mouth alone.  

She is so different than anyone I’ve ever met and just being around her makes me nervous
, like a stupid teenager.  We’ve been friends for so many years and just for as many I’ve been in love with her.  No one knows this, not even Jon. I wish I could at least share this with him, but I just don’t know how to tell him.  Ok maybe deep inside I’m afraid if I say anything, he’ll tell Mona and in return she’ll tell Birdie.  I can’t afford to lose Birdie’s friendship.  I just can’t do that.