Sophie's Smile: A Novel

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Authors: Sheena Harper
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with my makeshift ensemble. The reason my wardrobe selection was at best satisfactory was my dislike for spending money—specifically, money I hadn’t earned—on nonessential items that I could easily do without. More reason for me to graduate and get a job. Glancing one more time into the mirror, I went upstairs to see how Tiff was doing.
    Walking into her room, I was stunned. There were clothes and shoes strewn all over the carpet, on her bed, off the hangers, and even in the bathroom. Her bathroom countertop was hidden under a sea of makeup, jewelry, hair products, and hairpins. Tiff was standing in front of her bathroom mirror, setting her hair into soft curls that landed at the middle of her back. She was still wearing her baby-blue robe—that knowingly brought out the blue in her eyes—and her face was a blank slate.
    “What have you been doing this entire time?” I asked quizzically, while looking around at what seemed to be a warzone rather than a bedroom.
    “Oh, you know. This and that. I couldn’t find the right shoes for my new outfit so I tried looking for something else to wear.”
    “Did you find what you were looking for?”
    “No, not yet. Will you help?”
    At this rate, it would take her all night to get ready. “Sure. Where’s your new outfit?”
    “Over there. On the hanger.”
    I turned to her closet, and sure enough there was one item left hanging on the bar. Letting out a silent breath of relief, I relaxed. At least I didn’t have to dig around her room painstakingly searching for a needle in a haystack.
    The black dress was simple enough, with a plunging neckline and a very short hemline—a dangerous twist to the well-known expression of the little black dress.
    After a few minutes of rummaging through her piles of clothes and accessories, I quickly found the perfect shoes to go with her outfit—white platforms with a stripper heel. Tiff squealed in delight.
     
     
    4
     
    The doorbell rang. I looked at the clock; it was a quarter past seven. Perfect timing, the first guests had arrived and the guest of honor was just starting on her makeup.
    “ Soph ?” Tiff, using the mirror to reflectively look at me, tilted her head toward the door, pursed her lips and sweetly said, “Be a doll?”
    “Sure,” wagging my finger at her reflection, “ you just continue getting ready, I’ll get the door.”
    Eager to have something to do, I quickly obliged.
    When I got downstairs, Ethan and a few of his friends startled me when they passed me by the stairs. I forgot he had a key. “Hey Ethan, Tiff is still getting ready.”
    “Yup, I figured.”
    Instead of heading upstairs to check on Tiff, he headed toward our makeshift bar and the guys each grabbed a cold Heineken from the ice chest to wet their beaks.
    Ethan was a brawny fellow, built much like a football player—I’m sure Tiff mentioned that he played in high school—but other than his frame there wasn’t much else to look at. He definitely got the better end of the stick when he landed Tiff as his girlfriend, although he sure didn’t act like it. Tiff could do better. Ethan and his friends all had the same rugged look and dumb, mindless expression. They had on wrinkled black slacks, white collared shirts, untucked, and black blazers. I left them to fend for themselves and went back upstairs to check on Tiff.
    “Ethan and his friends are here.”
    “Oh, yay. I’m glad he made it. Sigh…I just love that guy.” Tiff gushed, “He’s the best, isn’t he?”
    Hoping it was a rhetorical question, I said nothing.
    She was almost finished with her makeup, and I could already tell that my face would look plain beside hers.
    The bell rang again. I figured, from my first examination, that Ethan would not do the honors; so I ran down to get it.
     
    There he was, stopping me dead in my tracks, as I neared the bottom of the stairs; I would have run over him if I didn’t see the hand he extended. The handshake was quick but strong. I

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