Free Sophie's Smile: A Novel by Sheena Harper

sand…I needed to run faster but I couldn’t …and then I woke up.
     
    My face was damp with sweat. I shivered. I was puzzled by this recurring nightmare. It always started off so perfectly and then ended so abruptly, so horribly. Then I realized the lights were still on and I was still at my desk, drool smudging my notes. I closed my book, turned off the lights, and went to bed.
     
     
    3
     
    “Yay! It’s party time!”
    Tiff was in her baby-blue terry cotton robe—face fresh and flawless—sprawled out on the couch with a box of Cheese Crisps, lazily watching Oprah . I envied her. I probably looked like shit. My eyes felt sunken in and bloodshot, my hair was greased and pulled into a tight ponytail. I had on my gray UCSD sweatshirt, jeans, and flip-flops. I was exhausted.
    “Maybe later. I just finished my midterms and I need a long, restful nap.”
    I wasn’t in the mood to be around her fresh-faced, relaxed, and idle presence at the moment. I wasn’t in the mood for anything except sleeping.
    “Soph. But you promised,” Tiff whined, pushing her bottom lip forward.
    “Tiff, please. Just give me a day to recover and I’ll be all yours tomorrow. Okay?”
    “Fine. I’ll hold you to that.” Tiff was up and about now, ready to start her day, looking like she had been waiting all morning and afternoon just for me to get home. She’s the Queen of Milking It.
    “Thanks,” I said as I headed straight for my warm bed to pass out for the rest of the day, revisiting the confusing nightmare of Prince Charming lost into the night:
     
    The field of sunflowers turned a desiccated brown…fading into the desert, and I could feel the heat…the rays pounded into my flesh and I could feel my blood boiling. I felt his presence but he was nowhere in sight. I panicked. My ears tickled and when I scratched, thick blood flowed down my arms and dripped onto the rusty sand below. Drip. Drip. The wind blew and I could hear him calling…sounds like my name… Soph … Soph …
     
    The next day, I woke feeling agitated yet refreshed. I took a long, hot shower, which I thoroughly enjoyed, and got ready for whatever Tiff had in store for her birthday. But first I needed to eat. I was famished.
    I decided on making myself some scrambled eggs with a side of toast. I was salivating just thinking about it. As I was removing the eggs from the fridge, I saw a note Tiff left for me on the whiteboard:
     
Soph. Get pumped up for a fun-filled night!
Stepped out for some last minute shop’n .
Be back in a few.
Invitation and agenda is on the table.
e the Bday girl (finally 21!!!)
     
    I immediately spotted the black envelope on the table and decided to read it over breakfast, as if it were the morning paper. I didn’t read the newspaper; who did these days, when the Internet was easily available and didn’t leave black smudges on your fingers?
    The invitation was printed on plain white cardstock:
     
The occasion: Tiff’s 21st Birthday
The date: (today) November 11, 2005
The time: 7:00 P.M – tomorrow morning (I cringed.)
The attire: Black and White
The plan: Potluck and Drinks, Limo and Drinks, Clubs, Bars, Dancing, and many Drinks, etc., Pass out on floor. (I cringed again.)
     
    Although I just had a satisfying breakfast, there was a large pit starting to form in my stomach. This was going to be a long night and I wasn’t sure how much I would be enjoying it. I just hope I don’t have to take care of anyone tonight —being sober at a party when everyone is tossed and half unconscious was never a good idea. Well, I could always just pretend to be drunk and take a taxi home once everyone seemed hazy enough to not pay attention. Yes, that’ll be the plan.
     
    I washed the dishes and started cleaning up the rest of the apartment. If we’re going to have a party here, it needs to be somewhat clean and presentable. I was in the middle of vacuuming the entryway when Tiff came back with bags full of food and booze, and of course, a