*walks up to my past-self where I stand with face pressed against a wall, hands over ears, shouting 'lalalala' and taps her shoulder*

Past self: Please tell me we held out for at least a day.

Present self: *shakes head* We didn't even make it five minutes.

Past self: Sometimes I hate us.

Present self: I know. We have no control. Let's just get this over with.

(If you missed the choas the Babysitting chapter then you'll find the above confusing. Don't stress. Just read. To everyone else. I HATE YOU!)

***********************************

Sophia decided to blame her father. This was not an original thought. If fact a majority of her troubles she found could find their origins in being her father's daughter. This particle blame felt the most warranted since it was his blonde hair and features she'd inherited.

True, the blame for her thick eyelashes, big brown eyes, and warm skin tone should be put on her mother. But her mother was the type of caring person you couldn't put blame on without feeling a certain degree of guilt. Sophia had no such feeling when blaming her father.

It's why at that moment she didn't feel guilt for blaming her father. After all, his hereditary traits were the reason Sophia's quiet lunch was being disturbed by a boy sitting down beside her.

"If I say no now," Sophia said, evenly. "Will that stop this conversation from having to take place?"

The boy placed his elbow on the table, shifting his body sideways to put himself more in her line of sight. It was unnecessary, his looks had no bearing on the matter and wouldn't change her answer.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say," he said.

"I have a strong inclination and even if I'm incorrect I'm willing to risk it for the sake of you leaving me alone."

Sophie flipped from the word game she currently played with her father to the chess match they were in. She inwardly smiled. He loved to use that sequence of moves, which made him predictable.

"You won't even let me say it?" the boy asked.

"Since I haven't been able to make you leave as of yet, I highly doubt I'll be able to stop you from saying it."

"You know you aren't helping your cause of trying to get rid of me since you're so cute when you're annoyed."

Sophia turned the full force of her displeasure on him with a single look.

"I don't understand how you think that statement would make me inclined to continue talking to you."

The boy grinned but she didn't understand what was so amusing.

"Why are you still here?" she said. "I find your entire personality rather irritating."

"I still don't have your number."

"That sounds like it's from a deficiency on your part."

When Sophia turned back to her phone, the boy eventually stood but didn't leave her table.

"You know it took bravery to come talk to you," he said.

"Then you should have used that bravery for something you'd have had better results in like rock climbing."

"Rock climbing?" the boy asked.

"Yes. The results would be improved physical strength and a sense of accomplishment. I highly doubt you feel the latter at the moment."

Sophia switched back to the word game, using the word 'antithesis' to score thirty-five points, putting her in the lead. All too quickly though her father returned with the word 'amalgamation' bumping him up again.

"You are strange," the boy said.

"From your viewpoint, maybe. It begs the question of why you came over in the first place."

As a matter of fact, it didn't. Not in Sophia's mind. It went back to the blame she put on her father earlier, from an outward point of view her looks drew attention. Possibly if she took fewer pains with her attire the attention would lessen.

But that was another blame that could be put on her father, a sense of pride in personal appearance. It didn't matter if what she wore every day was the same Hamilton Prep uniform, she took care to wear it well.

The school bell rang and Sophia stood, sliding her backpack onto her shoulders.

"You should think of taking up rock climbing," she said, walking off.

Whether the boy would take her suggestion, she would never know and honestly doubted she'd think of it again. Possibly if she passed him in the hall and noticed an improvement in his physique but she doubted that.

The halls rang with the congested noise of students still in the throes of their continued lunchtime conversations and the constant thrum of footsteps. Despite the chaos of the school, Sophia found she had no trouble walking to her class, people moved out of the way.

She often contemplated why this was and found another way to blame her father. A reoccurring pass time. She came to the conclusion it was the way she walked. Which meant it was the way her father walked since she'd stolen it from him. She figured most people might view it as a confident stride.

Sophia only saw it as the way she walked. After fourteen, correction thirteen years, accounting for the first year when she couldn't move on her own, her walk wasn't something she thought could be altered to decrease whatever it was that others didn't have. She simply walked.

"Soph!" a bright voice called out to her.

Sophia kept walking, or striding, depending on a person's viewpoint.

"Soph! Hey!" the same voice called out.

Sophia didn't understand why she should respond to a nickname that closely equated her to a piece of furniture. Nicknames were supposed to be endearing, not insulting.

Still, the source of the voice caught up to her despite Sophia's clear indication that she didn't plan to answer.

"Hey," the girl said. She stepped into Sophia's path forcing her to stop. "I wanted to know if you got my invite to my party?"

A factor of her new high school life that Sophia hadn't anticipated, and wasn't sure if she could blame her father for, was the random attention from people she barely knew. Invitations to parties would be given to her by classmates she didn't interact with.

A possible answer could be her father technically had been someone at one point when he was younger and still was the son of a President. But that answer didn't satisfy Sophia. What bearing did that have on her classmates wanting her to attend their parties?

"I wasn't aware of receiving an invitation," Sophia said.

The girl let out a breath of relief. Sophia didn't understand why the girl would be relieved, not knowing about the invitation wouldn't change the outcome. Sophia had gone to one party in the first week of school and had quickly concluded that high school parties were about the dullest things imaginable. Almost everyone got drunk, lowering their average IQs considerably. Nothing was less amusing in Sophia's opinion than drunks who thought themselves brilliant comedians.

"Okay," the girl said. "I sent it to your Instagram but you must have missed it. All the information is in my message." She beamed. "I hope to see you there!"

Again Sophia didn't understand why her presence would make a difference. It wasn't like she was some party savant that improved everyone's experience by being there. Why would this girl be eager to have her there?

"Okay then," Sophia said, continuing on, still baffled by the interaction.

When she walked into her classroom, she felt the same sense of pointless waste she did every time upon entering this particular class. It didn't matter if it was third-year French with seniors. It was a waste of Sophia's time since with her father their main form of communication was French. But as the high school system dictated a requirement of a language on a student's record, this was the option Sophia had gone with. Since between Spanish and French, her grammar lacked more in French.

She settled into her seat and immediately noted what the homework for the day was and proceeded to do it.

"Hey, Sophia," Harrison said, taking the spot beside her.

"I believe for this class the correct greeting would be "Bonjour, Sophia". And attention to your accent would be expected."

Her cousin merely laughed and Sophia had to wonder if that was why he had a B average in the class instead of an A.

"Bonjour class," Ms. Henderson said.

The class repeated the greeting, only Sophia didn't since she returned to her homework. Halfway through the lesson, she was pulled from her concentration by Ms. Henderson calling her name. When Sophia raised her head, Ms. Henderson looked at her expectantly, clearly wanting an answer from her.

"Ms. Henderson I feel the need to point out," Sophia said in French. "That this will be the twenty-eighth time you've called on me within the last month. I don't know if this is because you expect to catch me unprepared or simply because you want someone with the right answer.

"If the first, I feel the need to tell you that's not likely to happen. If the second, I feel there's a flaw in that logic since more students would be more attentive if they believed you would call on them at random."

Ms. Henderson let out a little sigh and Sophia felt aware of how the class wasn't stirring. Did they think she was badmouthing them in French? If she was then that fault landed on them, if they worked more they would have more understanding of what she'd said.

"Sophia," Ms. Henderson said, in French. "I call on you to engage you with the lesson."

"To what end? French is as much my native language as English or Spanish." Sophia shook her head. "I ask that you refrain from calling on me and put your focus on others that might need it. I offer up my cousin Harrison as an example."

Harrison shot a look at Sophia. At least he understood his name in French.

"Very well," Ms. Henderson said.

"Thank you," Sophia said in English.

Renewed looks from her peers were exchanged.

"What did you say?" Harrison asked, leaning towards her.

"I told her to let me be and focus on everyone else."

Harrison chuckled softly. "You rebel."

Rebel? Sophia frowned. In what way did her laying out rational thought make her a rebel? Rebels went against a system. Sophia pointed out how the system should be used for the enhancement of more needy students.

When the class was dismissed and the flow of students converged into the hallway, Harrison remained by Sophia. The pair didn't progress very far before a senior boy jogged up to them and slowed by Sophia's side.

"I need a tutor," he said. "Are you open to the idea?"

"She's fourteen," Harrison cut in quickly.

The fact seemed to surprise the senior and Sophia understood since she knew she had the physical maturity of someone older.

"My age doesn't play a part in my answer," Sophia said. "If I were older it would still be the same. No. I find having to repeat myself to someone who doesn't understand tedious. You'll have to find someone else."

Sophia moved around the boy with the understanding that her response was the end of the matter. Harrison caught up to her.

"You handled that well," he said.

She eyed him. How else had he expected her to handle it? Poorly? That would be counterintuitive.

"I know what you said to that guy but if I had a question with the French homework, can I text you?"

Sophia wanted to give him the answers right then and there since it would mean less of a hassle for her. But she knew her cousin to be the type to want to learn how to fish instead of being given a fish.

"Fine," Sophia said and strode into her next class.

*******

Sophia waited by Harrison's car, watching as students dispersed to their own vehicles with a franticness that never ceased to baffle her. Five seconds or five minutes would not change the fact that exiting the parking lot would take fifteen with traffic. But still, she saw over and over how they sprinted towards their cars.

"Admit it, you'd have died ages ago if I wasn't in your life," Kennedy said somewhere among the maze of cars.

Sophia tore her gaze away from the rat race of the parking lot in search of her and Harrison.

"What type of life do you think I'd be living without you," Harrison said. "Do you know how quiet and peaceful my life would have been? You only cause trouble."

"I do not."

"Yes, you do and I'm the idiot who goes along with your schemes."

The pair came into sight as Kennedy shoved Harrison's shoulder. Despite the clear forcefulness of the action, Harrison grinned at Kennedy. Sophia stared at them contemplating again why they refused to admit they were attracted to each other and date. The truth of how they felt was obvious enough that Sophia could understand it even though a majority of the time they appeared to be fighting.

"Has it ever occurred to you," Sophia said as they arrived at the car. "That your happiness could be increased by admitting that you love each other?"

Kennedy turned to Harrison and tilted her head affectionately. "Harrison. I'd love to kill you sometimes."

"Kennedy," Harrison said. "I love that you think your parents wouldn't arrest you for my murder."

"They would help me escape to Cuba and you know it." Kennedy smiled at Sophia. "You're right, saying that did increase my happiness. Thanks."

That had not been the outcome Sophia had envisioned but not one she was at all surprised by. Their choice to live in denial seemed to be one that they both had silently agreed to. A fact that Sophia noted and stored away as a reminder that intervening in others' lives rarely produced wanted results.

"Do you want to come over and do homework with us?" Kennedy asked Sophia as they all climbed into the car.

"No thank you," Sophia said.

Their form of homework never seemed efficient. Half the time was spent talking and ignoring the task completely. The pair easily accepted her refusal and returned to a conversation about which animals they could beat in a fight.

Sophia focused out the window. Why talk over an event that wasn't ever likely to happen? How to react when facing an animal predator in the wild seemed more logical. This scenario intrigued Sophia and she played out different reactions in her mind until Harrison stopped at the curb outside her family's townhouse.

"See you tomorrow!" Kennedy said.

"Okay."

Sophia stepped out of the car and into the shadowed street. Something about her street felt comforting to her. The houses were uniform and white. Well-maintained trees were planted at equal intervals making a walk from one end to the other an even trip of shade. Thoughtful planning. That was what it was, that was why the street felt comforting.

When Sophia walked into her house, she slipped off her shoes and placed them on the shoe rack in the foyer closet. Above her, she heard the telltale sound of a vacuum and knew that her room would be off-limits for the time being.

In the kitchen, she found a plate of conchas sitting on the counter. She placed two on a plate and crossed to the dining table, settling into a chair. As she ate she watched a Youtube compilation of overgrown yards being mowed and neatened up, the satisfaction of chaos to order helping her decompress.

Once the conchas were gone and the compilation finished, Sophia set to her homework sufficiently relaxed to handle the hours of work ahead of her. Before she started, she heard the patter of footsteps descending the stairs and her Abuela appeared in the doorway.

Despite her nearly seventy years of age, her Abuela moved with a quick bustle. Having decided that retirement wasn't for her, she'd taken it upon herself to clean her daughter's house once a week and bake whenever she felt the urge.

"Hola mi amorcita," her abuela said. "How was your day?"

"Sufficient," Sophia said, switching to Spanish without a thought.

Her Abuela cupped Sophia's face and eyed her as if she could discern all the thoughts that lay in Sophia's head. The intensity of her Abuela's gaze could have convinced Sophia that she did see them all.

"Are they treating you well?" her Abuela asked.

"To the best of my knowledge. What others might say behind my back is not something I'm aware of."

"What of your friends? Have you made any?"

"When I find someone interesting enough then I imagine I will."

Her Abuela sighed and pinched her lips together. Was there something wrong with being wise about her choice of friends? Every action should be thoughtful. That felt even more important when choosing someone to spend time with.

"I worry about you," her Abuela said.

"I see no cause to worry. I'm the youngest sophomore, in most standards that proves I'm excelling."

That answer didn't soften her Abuela's expression which Sophia felt it should have. What answer was better proof that she was above concern for the time being?

A buzzing emanated from her Abuela's pocket and she let go of Sophia's face to retrieve her phone.

"I have to leave or I'll be late for my dance class," she said. She kissed her granddaughter's forehead and patted her cheek. "Make friends, Mija."

As her Abuela left, Sophia pondered if that had been a command or a desire spoken aloud. For now though, that want wasn't relevant to the task at hand and so Sophia returned to her homework. She found a playlist of TED talks and pressed play. Listening to people's speeches was like floating out in the ocean. The waves buoyed her along in a soft even rhythm.

Hours later when the light had shifted, Sophia felt pulled out of her ocean by the front door closing. She raised her head, finding the source of her blame outlined in the kitchen archway. Seeing him, she felt her blame was understandably placed since even though he sat at a desk for the entirety of the work day, he looked as if he'd come from a White House press conference.

"Daughter," her father said in French. "You've used anthesis three times in the last five games. Is your vocabulary stunted?"

"Father, you've used the Sicilian Defence four times in our last six games, has dementia set in?"

Mason smiled at his daughter and she quickly returned it.

"Go make yourself presentable and let's get something to eat," he said.

"Will mama meet us there?"

"Yes. She had to stay a bit longer to oversee something."

Sophia hurriedly stowed away all her homework and dashed up the stairs. When she returned, she stopped in front of her father and displayed her outfit. He inspected her choice with a critical eye and deemed it well chosen with a nod.

At their normal restaurant, they were shown to a table in the back and given menus. When the server stole a last glance at Mason, Sophia knew she was right to put her blame for her attractiveness on him. Though she felt he had no right to look as good as he did at his age. It made mothers talk about him when he appeared and their words made Sophia uncomfortable.

"Do you want me to inform you about my day?" Sophia asked.

"No," Mason said. "I already lived through high school. I highly doubt there's anything you could tell me that I didn't already experience."

Sophia stared at him pointedly and her father stretched his arms out and then placed his laced fingers behind his head. Despite the outward sign of reluctance, Sophia could see how his eyes softened.

"You haven't experienced high school as a pretty girl which means I will have a different perspective than you. And interactions that you wouldn't."

"Fine, share them with me."

Sophia did, mentioning the boy at lunch. When her responses to the boy made her father laugh, she beamed. The sound filled her up.

"You handle the attention of idiots as well as your mother," Mason said.

A worthwhile compliment. Considering how beautiful her mother the amount of attention she must have received would be substantial.

"If she fended off attention, how did you gain it?" Sophia asked.

Smiling, her father leaned forward and Sophia leaned in as well. She was his coconspirator. And why wouldn't she naturally be? After all her intellect partly came from him. A smart partner was the only worth partner to have.

"I had an advantage none of the other men had," Mason said.

"I highly doubt that mama was only hit on by unattractive men."

"No, that wasn't my advantage though it did play a role. No, my advantage was that your mother was already in love with me when we met."

Not likely, a person couldn't love another person they'd never met.

"What are you two whispering about?" Sophia's mother asked, pulling out a chair and sitting.

"Mama, did you love father before you even met?" Sophia asked, instinctively switching to Spanish.

Her mother gave Mason a look. It was a look easily decipherable since Sophia received it on occasion, it was one that asked if the offender would like to retract their statement. Her father merely sat back. An answer in its own way.

"I was not in love with your father before I met him," Yvette said. "I had a girlhood crush on him. But it was after I knew the man he was that I fell in love."

That made sense, mama was too smart to fall for something with an expiration date like someone's appearance. Though her father seemed to have a further expiration date than others.

"Now," Yvette said. "How was your day, Mija?"

"I just related it to Father and I'd rather not repeat myself right now. Can you tell me how the bridge project to going?"

Her mother smiled at her with such warmth Sophia felt it down to the deepest places in her heart.

"You can tell me later then," Yvette said. "My project. Well..."

When her mother spoke of her work as a structural engineer she spoke in English. The difference in her voice when talking in that language absorbed Sophia. Her mother's tone had a stateliness in it that she didn't have with the rhythm of Spanish. Speaking in English, Sophia felt more connected to her mother, everything was conveyed in an orderly fashion.

For this fact, Sophia continued a steady stream of questions, keeping her mother talking even as they finished dinner and left the restaurant. When the trio returned home, Mason pointed up the stairs.

"There's a present waiting for you in your room," he said.

"It better not be something useless or I'm returning it and keeping the money," Sophia said.

"It's useless, but it's also not in one piece."

Sophia felt her body hum with anticipation and she darted to the stairs.

"Don't stay up too late," her father said.

The insulting comment made Sophia stop and peer down at him.

"You understand by assuming it would take me that long you're insulting yourself since you are my teacher."

Mason grinned. "See you in two hours."

Sophia raced up the stairs. Two hours. He really must have lost faith in her if he believed it would take her that long. But no matter, she would merely rub her quick success in his face. The thought spurred her on and she entered her room, instantly looking to her worktable. On it sat a box she'd overlooked earlier when she'd gotten changed.

She hopped onto her stool and opened the box. Inside were the dozens of pieces of a disassembled computer. After laying out all the pieces, she hit play on her music and fell into her work.

What played through her room wasn't English it wasn't even two of the other languages Sophia knew, it was Korean. When she first started to explore her own taste in music, she discovered that she didn't relate to a lot of it. The struggles that plagued artists into pouring their souls into songs, she'd never dealt with and so had no interest in. She'd found kpop filled a need for music without having to deal with lyrics. She absorbed production and emotion, and that was enough for her.

*****

Bleary-eyed from focusing so hard, Sophia sat back and rubbed her eyes. She checked the time and smirked. Two hours. Her father underestimated her. She grinned, rose from her chair, and stretched, planning for some well-deserved smug satisfaction. Maybe she'd even add in a jab or two about his age and how he soon wouldn't be able to keep up with her pace.

But when Sophia reached the archway to the living room, she slowed as she heard her parents talking. At the sound of her name, she stopped completely and took up residence tucked next to the archway. Knowledge was power after all and knowledge came in many forms.

"My mother is worried," Sophia's mother said. "And I'm wondering if letting her skip freshman year wasn't a good idea."

"I don't see what there's to be worried about," Mason said.

Sophia didn't see either. Besides, she'd already explained to her Abuela why worry wasn't warranted. Why hadn't that been enough to set her Abuela at ease?

"Mason, she doesn't have any friends. And she's younger than all her classmates."

"If she was in freshman year she'd be bored, even in AP classes. We know this."

"I got a call from her French teacher. Sophia talked back to her when she simply asked Sophia a question."

Sophia found that statement insulting. She had not talked back but merely pointed out a flaw in the teacher's method. Could teachers not be learners as well?

"Maybe the question was a stupid one and Sophia was doing a service by pointing that out," Mason said.

The question Ms. Henderson had asked had been a valid one but aimed at Sophia had been the fault.

"Mason."

"Yvette, what did you expect from our brilliant daughter? Better yet what did you expect from my daughter?"

Yvette sighed. "I'm worried. A girl should have friends."

Sophia couldn't agree with this. Yes, friends were universally known to be of importance but so was knowledge. Why was Sophia's focus on knowledge seen as less than then doing nothing with people she shared some commonality with?

"I'm not worried," Mason said.

"But why not?"

"Because I grew up feeling like I would never have a true friend but I eventually got Owens. Sophia might not have the friend group you had in high school but she'll find that one person who gets her. That is what's important. It's only the second month of the school year. Give it time."

Sophia left her hideout and slowly drift back upstairs to her room. Maybe some knowledge was better left unknown. Inside her room, she laid down on her bed and stared up at her ceiling. Even though her father wasn't worried, both her Abuela and mother were. One concerned grandmother was expected but added with a loving mother who let Sophia be as independent as she wanted. That meant a reevaluation of the situation.

Her bedroom door swung open but Sophia didn't react. Her father walked to her bed and lowered himself to the floor where he stretched out. Sophia could imagine how from above they resembled each other in position, features, and expression.

"Am I strange?" Sophia asked.

"Yes," Mason said.

Sophia nodded once.

"But your strangeness will mean when you go out into the world you will make the biggest impact."

"Then you approve of my plan for world domination?"

"As long as I can be your top advisor in your dictatorship then yes."

Her strangeness: one more thing that could be blamed on her father.

Sophia smiled. "Deal."

**********************************************************************

I have no want to greet you. Just leave your comments here. 🗯💬💭😑

NOT EVEN FIVE MINUTES!! You hear that! Not even five freaking minutes! 🤦🏽‍♀️

I read the comments for the Babysitting chapter Saturday night, climbed off my bed and stood staring at nothing and the name Sophia came to me. I COULDN'T HOLD OUT FOR EVEN FIVE MINUTES!! 🙄

*takes a breath*

After getting the name Sophia walked into my life like Carter, fully formed and proceeded to show my exactly who see was. From an outside point of view I image I looked weird since I literally sat in my chair staring into space for twenty minutes straight.

But that makes sense since she's Mason's daughter and would demand that I give her all the attention necessary.

Not going to lie, she's stranger than I ever thought she would be. But its a strangeness that makes sense. Mason always found the people around him to be extremely boring and that's why Carter made a difference in his life. It's natural that his daughter would inherit the same view point.

She's almost like Carter in a way but not. If that makes sense. Carter sees the world and understands it. Sophia sees the world and doesn't understand why everyone isn't as smart as her. It's a completely new perspective to explore.

I am curious what you think because I'm guessing she's different than you expected, so tell me. And this isn't a polite request, you literally controlled me only a couple minutes after reading your comments so you owe me like you own me.

Will there be more of this strange girl? What do I know! I thought I was going to be able to stay strong and never cave again to your whims! Clearly I have no understanding of anything anymore!

Vote, comment, follow because let's face it you're in this Open Case File world for life!

That's right! Cute but still annoyed.