Sophie's Smile: A Novel (12 page)

Just a little boy, lost in the woods, finds himself enrapt with discovery and the beauty of newness, of neural impulses that could never be preconceived. What pleasure lies in discovery! Like a warm hug in a safe place, memories locked away in a secret box under the bed, these new sights bring a sense of mystery coupled with an awkward nostalgia—it is painful to think about these moments ever ending, while at the same time it is impossible to imagine never having experienced them.

As I wander further, I realize this is not my place…where is everybody? Panic sets in. I freeze.
My heart, once so open, now slams shut so violently I begin to cry.
I didn’t even notice wading into the darkness, first creeping up around my ankles, then knees, now all the way over my head. I am drowning.
How unobservant I have been; how lacking in foresight, and unable to perceive my mistakes.
It is much too late to turn back. The giggles have faded, and there is no light to see. Now I must wait for tomorrow morning, when the sun will return and kiss my hollow vessel once more, pointing me eastward in a swell of gilded azure, my grief will be encased in bronze, burnished to preciousness, and I will hide it in a special place—with all the warm hugs, in a cedar chest yearning to be filled.

Without thinking, I added a comment and hit Send:

Reading this I feel like I totally understand how you feel. Sometimes I feel like I should be grateful for all that I’ve been blessed with and all the love and support that surround me, but something is missing that makes me feel…incomplete? Well hopefully you find whatever it is that you are looking for.

Take care,

Sophie

For a moment I regretted it.
What if he thinks I’m stalking him?
The comment implied that I read the blog and in turn, his private thoughts.
No, I want him to know that his words touched me.

7

Since meeting Liam, I started thinking about relationships, especially after not being able to have a restful sleep when my roommate was banging her boyfriend right above me (I really needed to invest in some state-of-the-art surround sound entertainment speakers).

What is required and expected of oneself when one is in a relationship?
My mom once told me of a lady who didn’t get married until forty years old, just because she was afraid of dating and of what may come after. At the time, I didn’t really think anything of it but now, never having a boyfriend or having been on a date, I wondered if I was that lady. I was afraid that I would always be alone—incomplete—and wouldn’t find happiness until I was way past my prime.
Will I have wrinkles and gray hair when I walk down the aisle?
I shuddered at the thought.

What comes with having a boyfriend, anyway?
Constantly thinking about them, worrying about them, loving them, unable to do anything without them…
Would I get hurt?
I guess not if I excelled at it…if I was better, perfect—lost some weight, became prettier somehow, increased my cooking skills,
was
entertaining and charming. The only thing I feared…
oh…it would be dreadful if…I couldn’t satisfy him…sexually.
My cheeks reddened at the thought, the redness intensified as groans and shrieks crescendoed above me.

Would I have sex before marriage?
I contemplated this question for years—hearing about all my friends’, acquaintances’, roommates’ sex lives—and I firmly believed that I should wait. I waited this long.
I will wait.
This I was sure of. I was a romantic and sentimental at heart; hearing my mom’s story of how my dad was her first and only, I developed a want for that too, to be able to only give that part of myself to my husband and no one else. He would be the only person to know everything about me. This would be my gift to my future husband, and I intended on keeping it.

8

A few days passed after posting the MySpace comment, with no word from Liam. I was getting nervous.
What if he thinks I am a stalker, a freak?
I relaxed when the unread message highlighted my Inbox—Liam sent me another message:

November 26, 2005 6:56 PM

Subject:
Thank You!

Body:

Hi Sophie,

I read your comment, thank you for your kindness :)

Time just FLEW by (you know, with Thanksgiving and all). Also, I’ve been in the mood to bake some banana bread…do you like banana bread? I’ll bake extra for you if you do! Or we can bake some together, and I’ll share my top-secret recipe with you (and I won’t even have to kill you, consider yourself lucky). I have some good news as well…UCSD readmitted me! I’m back! I’ll see you there Winter Quarter, I’m sure…we will need to hang out and “act cool” on campus.

-Liam

P.S. my number 619-352-5487, so you don’t always have to use MySpace as a means of communication.
Feel free to call anytime.

I froze.
He gave me his number…voluntarily?
After reading the message for the sixth time I realized I might be going on a potential date, I would be seeing him in school, he was grateful for my comment, he gave me his number, and he wanted to see me again.

Wow.
I felt like I was on cloud nine. I contemplated calling him, but I didn’t know what to say. I was getting antsy…I really wanted to hear his voice.
I can’t believe I am already smitten with this guy, a guy that I barely know.

Am I this easy?
I had to be careful…I could get hurt…I couldn’t lie to myself; I was already in it too deep.
Would we go on a date?
No, I couldn’t. Finals were approaching and I had to focus on that.
Breathe.
My head was swimming with questions.
Don’t make it into a bigger deal than it is.
Liam is probably just a nice guy who wants another friend.

I decided to be safe and message him back with my phone number:

November 26, 2005 7:44 PM

Subject: RE:
Thank You!

Body:

Hi Liam,

Yea, I understand. Congrats on getting readmitted!

Finals is
coming up so I’ve been cramming for that.

Banana bread is
great,
I would love to learn your top-secret recipe.

My number is 858-425-1256.

-Sophie

I rewrote this message so many times before I hit Send. I wonder if I should’ve said more. No, short and concise is better.
Ugh, I’m so bad at this.

9

Walking out of my last final exam felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t care that a few of the questions went over my head, or that I was sleep deprived and unsightly. At this moment I felt happy. I changed.

I felt like I finally learned this quarter, focused on my priorities. Overeating was still an issue at times, but I actually felt good about the way I looked and felt. I think I just needed to realize that I wasn’t perfect and didn’t need to be. As long as I was happy and content with myself, I would be fine. It was a mundane concept—one even a Kindergartener could have understood—but it took me twenty-one years to realize it.

My entire life, I tried to mold myself into the person I thought I should be—perfect daughter, perfect student, perfect person—and I lost my way in the process. I was overcome with depression, sullen and internally suffering from my own insecurities, my false perceptions of the world and of myself. I was my harshest and only critic and I was unable to cope with the fact I could never be perfect. What I believed to be perfect may not have been perfect after all.

I did not need to be the smartest person. I did not need to make exorbitant amounts of money. I did not need to be a social butterfly and be popular. I did not need to be model-thin or Jessica-Alba-beautiful. I did not need to be anything but me.

My definition of being perfect would be if I could be happy with what I have and what I have to offer, without having to change anything about me. At that moment I felt an overwhelming surge of energy, like I could run an entire marathon in one healthy breath. I realized that being unique makes someone special and interesting. No one can be perfect, nor can anyone be loved by all. The one goal I had for myself was to be HAPPY and healthy. I finally wanted to live in this world—not just exist in it.

10

December 12, 2005 9:29 PM

Subject:
Yay! Finals Are Over!

Body:

Hi Sophie,

Take a deep breath (bring in the love, push out the jive), because finals are over! Hooray! I hope they went well for you, stressful as they may be.

I’ll give you a call in the next couple of
days,
maybe we can get together this weekend.

Talk to you soon,

Liam

My heart fluttered again and my palms started to tingle.
Why do his messages always get to me like this…make me feel anxious, but in a good way? He hasn’t forgotten about me and he still wants to hang out? Now what does this mean? What should I do? Should I just wait for his call?
I muddled through all my juvenile questions and decided it was best to wait.
Just wait.

Wednesday came and went. So did Thursday. If he wasn’t going to call, then what did his message mean?
Does this mean he already had plans this weekend and just forgot…or maybe his “couple days” actually is code for “never in this lifetime”?
Sigh, why am I getting worked up over this.
Stupid.
Wait. Is that my phone?

My heartbeat accelerated. I ran toward the plain, old-school ringtone, tripping over my feet as I went. It was Liam. I felt heat rush through my body. At that moment, the only thing running through my mind was that he called.
Liam called
.

~ Liam ~

11

“Hi,” her quiet voice wavered as it warmed mine.

“Hi, Sophie?
This is Liam.”