Page 11 of Trying Sophie

I pushed forward. “I know it’s no excuse, really I do, but I was eight years old and I had no idea I’d actually hurt your feelings.” I said, laying my heart on the line the way I’d done with her grandfather earlier this morning.

I glanced away and my mind was flooded with bursts of memories of Sophie as a little girl. One image after another played through my mind like a highlight reel of her two years in Ballycurra and I couldn’t keep the small, happy smile from crossing my face.

“You were always so fierce and intense. I was a little bit in awe of you, if I’m being honest. Looking back, I think I behaved like that to get a rise out of you. It seemed the only way I could get you to talk to me.” I shrugged and caught her eye which then shifted to avoid looking at me.

When she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, I continued. “We’re hardly the same people we were at ten years old, yeah? Do you think it’s possible not to judge me for the little arsehole I was back then? Can we put it behind us and be friends?”

“Friends …” she muttered, shaking her head, and my stomach clenched.

I feared she was going to tell me there was no way she could forgive me and that being friends was the last thing she wanted.

Chewing on her lip, her eyes met mine and they sparked with emotion.

“I try not to think about that time too much because it wasn’t the best for me, you know? I was scared, lonely, and incredibly awkward. All I wanted was to be liked but you teased me so … mercilessly. It started the first moment I stepped foot inside our classroom and everyone just fell in line with your taunting. For two years, Declan, you made my life hell.”

Sophie fell quiet and I could see she was lost in the past, likely remembering the same moments I just had, albeit from an entirely different point of view.

After several long seconds, she blinked.

“Do you know I’ve never eaten fish and chips since I left Ireland? God, I can still hear your stupid voice in my head. ‘Good night fish and chips! See you tomorrow.’ And then you’d cackle and run down the street like you were the funniest thing in the world. I wanted to murder you.”

Seeing the pain those memories caused, I wanted to murder me too.

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