I was right. There is an issue, and there doesn’t need to be one. “No.”
“Why don’t you take her shopping?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“But she’s your friend.”
“I don’t have a problem hanging out with my friends, but not today.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Clearly. Look, Soph, if I go with Fifi, you’ll sit here with sad eyes and pout and wonder what I’m doing and what’s wrong with you that I didn’t want to go into town with you. So I’m going take you and prevent all that.”
“That sounds like a great invitation,” she says sarcastically.
I like it when she’s sarcastic. It shows her feisty side, which hardly ever comes out.
Maybe it only comes out with me. “It is. Go get your coat.”
She huffs a sigh. “Where are we going shopping?”
I knew she’d give in. I can wear anyone down.
I learned that from my sister.
“There’s really not that many options,” I tell her. “But you need a dress for the dance.”
“What dance?”
“The Dance of the Sea thing?”
“The Sea Queen ball,” Sophie corrects. “I don’t need a dress for that because I’mnot going.” She gestures to my foot. “There’s no point.”
My heart sinks a little. What has been done to Sophie to make her so oblivious to so many things? If this Martin guy is responsible… “There’s always a point. You’re getting stronger and better with your walking. Dancing is just one step above walking. If we find you a dress that makes you feel as incredible as you are, I will figure out how to get you to dance.”
“Who am I supposed to dance with?” she demands.
“Me.”
Silence follows the word and Sophie looks everywhere but at me.
The pause is so long that I start to wonder that maybe I got this wrong.
Maybe Sophie isn’t falling for me. Maybe she still has a thing for that Marvin or Martin guy.
Maybe, deep down, she’s a truly pathetic dancer, even without the broken toes.
Maybe, deep down, she hates me for breaking her toes.
“You should go with Fifi,” Sophie finally says, which doesn’t help at all with the inner thoughts running rampant through my head. “She can dance.”
I put the six of hearts onto the seven of clubs, and finish the row, which I know she hates. But I’m in the mood to shop. And shop with Sophie. And other things with Sophie… if she wants that too. But if she doesn’t… “I could,” I say, trying for extra-casual. “She asked me.”
“Oh.”
That tiny word sends my hope—and confidence—surging. Because that was theohof someone who would be very disappointed if I were to go to the dance with someone else, regardless if she was going or not.
“I said that I was waiting for someone else to get around to asking me,” I add. “But I’m starting to lose hope.”
