Page 44 of The ABCs of You & Me

Mrs. Hore’s head swings my way, and when I notice the look on Sophie’s face I realize I should have kept my mouth shut. But I couldn’t help it; she was breathtaking.

“Are you an alumnus too? I thought you went to Waterloo?”

I look over at Sophie, but she’s back to eating her food. “Um, no, I went as Sophie’s date so Gregory didn’t treat her badly.” Sophie’s head snaps up the minute her ex’s name is out of my mouth and she looks horrified and I think angry? It’s not a look I’ve ever seen on her before.

“Why would Gregory treat you badly?” her mom asks.

Sophie’s eyes are glued to me, and the lasagna loses all flavor in my mouth. “Sophie?” her mom asks again.

Sophie slowly turns toward her and puts her fork down. “Because he always treated me badly, Mom.”

“What do you mean? He was always a perfect gentleman.”

The scowl that forms on Sophie’s beautiful lips physically hurts to see. “In the beginning, sure. In front of other people, absolutely, he’d never want anyone to think poorly of him. He had a reputation to uphold. But the minute we were alone…” Sophie’s words fade, and she stares down at her plate.

“Soph, I…” I start to apologize but she cuts me off.

“Not now. I’ve had a really nice day, and I’d rather not do this right now.” She turns to her mom. “If you don’t mind.”

Mrs. Hore reaches over and takes Sophie’s hand, her face a portrait of concern and confusion. I can see the questions bubbling at the surface.What did he do? Why didn’t you say anything? Do I need to hire someone to take care of him?Thankfully she doesn’t vocalize any of them.

“So what did you get up to earlier today?” she asks instead.

“We went to a drag brunch,” I answer, my eyes still glued to Sophie who seems to be a million miles away. All I want to do is crawl under the table and pull her down with me to hide from the world. Hold her until the clouds break and the sun comes back.

“How fun. So,” she says slowly. “Alumni gala, drag brunch… what else have you two gotten up to?”

I keep my mouth shut, attention still on Sophie so I see the exact moment the mask slips back on, smiling at her mom. “Oh, well, like I said, Cass couldn’t go to the Nyx Avalon concert with me so she gave her ticket to Foster. Ultimately, it was better than going on my own. He even learned some of the songs.” She smiles over at me, and I’m almost convinced it’s real.

“She’s no Zeppelin, but I can’t deny that her songs are catchy,” I admit.

“You and Karl would get along well.” Her eyes slide back to Sophie who’s pushing her food around the plate before looking back at me. “What are you doing for Easter, Foster?”

“My parents host a breakfast so I’ll be back home for the day.” Easter is my most hated of the holiday meals. Between the overcooked eggs and my uncle making passive-aggressive remarks about my chosen profession, hair, tattoos, and general existence, I’d rather bathe Gary with my tongue.

“Well, if you’re able to slip away, you’re more than welcome for brunch or leftover brunch that we end up eating for dinner.”

I can’t read Sophie’s expression. There is maybe hope there, but also some dread. Hope I’ll go? Dread that I’ll say yes? “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” I say.

“You should drive up together. Makes sense with gas prices being what they are these days,” Mrs. Hore suggests, pushing her chair back and starting to clear the table.

I rise to help but not before offering Sophie a reassuring smile. Her responding one is far more tense than I’d like. It’s one I’ve seen once before, at the gala, and I’d prefer to never see it again.

Between the three of us, we get everything cleaned up and packed away in no time. While I’d like to spend every possible second I can with Sophie far from the halls of school, I get the sense that if I stay much longer I will outlast my welcome.

“Soph,” I murmur, pulling her gently toward the front door. “I’m going to take off and let you and your mom spend some time alone.”

“You don’t have to go,” she stammers as her hand lands on my bicep briefly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I insist, slipping on my shoes.

“Oh, no, not tomorrow. I’m at Bishop all day. I won’t be back at school until Wednesday.”

Nuts. Days with a zero percent chance of seeing Sophie in the halls are the worst.

“Right, well.” I hold up my phone. “I’m a text away if you get bored or can’t decide which pattern to wear one morning.”

I love how she uses her clothes as a way to put the kids at ease. Last week, Pete came back from meeting with her and went on for about ten full minutes about the different mushrooms that were on her shirt and how he once ate a morel but didn’t like it because it was too spongy.

---