Sophie’s World (9 page)

“That isn’t true,” Maggie said over Sophie’s shoulder. The bell rang. Sophie snatched up her backpack and charged for the door. Fiona was on her heels, and Sophie thrust the paper into her hands the minute they were in the hall.

“B minus!” Fiona said. “That’s brilliant!”

“Read what she wrote, though!” Sophie said.

Fiona’s eyes grew wider as they swept the page.

“No!” she said. Then she pushed the report back at Sophie and took out her own. “I haven’t even read
my
comment,” she said.

She pulled Sophie closer to her as they stared at Ms. Quelling’s writing:
Fiona continues to do above average work. However, her recent association with Sophie LaCroix may hurt her. I suspect cheating and will continue to keep diligent watch. I trust you will take appropriate action regarding this new friendship.

Fiona stuffed the paper into her pack like a wad of trash.

“That woman is beyond heinous,” she said. “She’s pure evil. And so are her little T.P.’s.”

“T.P.’s?”

“Teacher’s pets.” Fiona’s eyes went into little gray slits again. “Teacher’s
Pops.
”

Sophie felt a whisper of a smile on her lips. “You mean
Corn
Pops.”

“They
are
Corn Pops!” Fiona let out a bitter laugh. “They’re just corny and fake, but they think they’re all that.”

Sophie grinned. And then just as quickly, she felt the cloak fall on her, heavy and dark.

“What if our parents believe her?” she said.

Fiona shrugged. “Your parents know you’re not a cheater.” Fiona gave her a gentle push toward the computer room door.

“Let’s get through this class so we can go play. I’m suffocating in this place.”

The solid C in computers and Ms. Y’s comment,
Good to see this
, didn’t do much to lift Sophie’s spirits. She was just surprised Ms. Y had managed to squeeze in a comment at all. Ms. Quelling had used up most of her space too, with her scissor-words.

Sophie said to Fiona when they were on the playground after lunch, “I’m sure Ms. Quelling hates me.”

“It’s not true.”

They both looked down from the monkey bars. Maggie was squinting up at them, one sturdy hand shading her eyes like a salute.

“What
isn’t true?” Fiona said.

“That you cheated on the test in Ms. Quelling’s class.”

“No, it
isn’t
true,” Fiona said.

They both continued to look down at Maggie. Sophie didn’t feel like talking to anyone except Fiona.

“Just so you know,” Maggie said. “I know the truth.”

She waited another few seconds, and then shrugged and walked away.

“I guess we weren’t that nice to her,” Sophie said. She threw her head down on her crossed arms. “I’m too depressed to even play.”

In math Mrs. Utley gave Sophie a C- and wrote:
The grade is a gift for solid improvement. Expect to see more in the future.

When she handed it to Sophie, Mrs. Utley said to both Fiona and Sophie, “Looks like you’re having some problems in Ms. Quelling’s class.”

“It isn’t true,” Fiona said. “We don’t cheat.”

Mrs. Utley surveyed them from within the puffy folds around her eyes. “A little advice then?” she said. “Don’t give anybody a reason to think you do cheat.”

“Can I still help Sophie in this class?” Fiona said.

Mrs. Utley wiped her forehead with the side of her hand. “I’m going to let you, at least for the time being.” And then to Sophie’s surprise, she put her plump hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “Just be sure you pay as much attention to
me
in class as you do to Fiona. Then maybe you won’t need her help so much.” She gave Sophie’s shoulder a warm, damp squeeze. “You’re a smart girl.”

As the teacher moved slowly off to the next table, Kitty dropped a folded piece of paper in front of Sophie and skittered off.

“She’s the Corn Pop errand girl,” Fiona whispered. “Don’t open it.”

“What if it’s an apology note?” Sophie whispered back.

“Are you insane?” Fiona said. Sophie slipped the note into her backpack. But she forgot about it the minute she climbed into the Suburban after school.

“How did your day turn out, Dream Girl?” Mama said. “Did you get your C’s?”

Sophie nodded, although it was hard to even move her head.

“You don’t seem very happy about it,” Mama said. “This means you’ll get your camera.”

“Can I go to Dr. Peter today?” Sophie said.

“Not until tomorrow.” Mama stopped at the stop sign and looked at Sophie. “All right now, you’re scaring me. You look like you just lost your best friend.”

“I think I’m going to!”

“Why?” Mama said. She pulled away from the stop sign. Sophie took out the progress report and read Ms. Quelling’s comment out loud. She could hear her voice trailing like a broken strand in a cobweb. Mama all but pulled over onto the side of the road.

“Sophie,” she said. “What is going on? No, wait till we get home.” Mama put her hand up and pressed the accelerator. She careened into the driveway like a NASCAR driver. Lacie bolted out the front door.

“Sophie’s social studies teacher called,” she said. “She wants you to bring Sophie straight back to the school—like NOW.”

Nine

S
ophie felt her heart slamming against her chest.
It’s over
, she thought.

Everything is over
. Mama didn’t even get out of the car. “We have five minutes,” she said to Sophie as the Suburban sent gravel flying. “So start talking.”

As the neighborhood went by in a blur, Sophie told Mama everything. When they reached the school parking lot, Mama turned off the ignition and faced Sophie squarely across the seat.

“Look me in the eye,” she said. “Did you and Fiona cheat?”

“No, ma’am,” Sophie said.

“All right then,” Mama said. “Let’s get this mess straightened out.”

Mama looked at least three inches taller as she marched up to the school. It made Sophie lift up her own chin and walk fast to keep up. Seeing Fiona in Ms. Quelling’s room when they got there made her feel even stronger. Fiona was sitting calmly next to Boppa at a table, hands in her lap.

Boppa stood up until Mama had taken a seat. Ms. Quelling was nowhere around.

“Are you as fired up about this as I am?” Boppa murmured to Mama. He had a tiny red spot at the top of each cheekbone.

“I feel like a mother bear,” Mama murmured back.

Fiona grabbed Sophie’s hand under the table and held on.

It’s all right, Antoinette tried to say with the squeeze of her hand. Not even a council of Loyalists can take us down. We are the patriots in this battle. And we have the Wise Ones to defend us. We are not alone.

The door from the hallway opened, and Ms. Quelling bustled in and opened her office door. Out came the train of Pops. Julia Cummings. Anne-Stuart Riggins. B.J. Schneider. Willoughby Wiley. Kitty Munford.

Fiona’s hand gave Sophie’s a clench that clearly said,
We’re doomed.

“May I ask who these ladies are?” Boppa said. He sounded proper, as if he were in a bank.

“These are the girls who informed me on Friday that Fiona and Sophie had a secret cheating code.”

The Corn Pops all gazed innocently at Ms. Quelling. All but Kitty, who was swallowing as if she had an elephant stuck in her throat.

“And you believed them,” Mama said.

“I listened to both sides,” Ms. Quelling said.

“And you believed
them
,” Mama said again.

Ms. Quelling wafted a hand over the Pops. “I’ve known all of them except Kitty since they were in kindergarten. They’re nice girls.” She cleared her throat. “However, I think it’s possible that they were mistaken this time.”

Julia’s eyes startled, and she raised her hand halfway. “We aren’t mistaken.”

Anne-Stuart nodded. “We wouldn’t have said anything if we weren’t sure.”

“I’m certain of that, girls. I just think someone else may have been privy to additional information.” She tilted her chin toward the hall and called, “Come on in.”

Maggie stepped in, stomping to the front like a chunky soldier.

“This is Maggie LaQuita,” Ms. Quelling said to Mama and Boppa. “Maggie, please tell everyone what you told me.”

“They didn’t cheat,” Maggie said. “Fiona and Sophie had a code of signals. But it isn’t what you think. Fiona coughs at Sophie when she sees her daydreaming, so she can keep her mind on her work.”

“How do you know that, Maggie?” Ms. Quelling said.

“I heard Sophie and Fiona talking about it all last week.”

Julia raised an arm, ponytail swinging. “Maggie could be lying for them.”

“I don’t think so,” Ms. Quelling said, her voice soft. “That’s the same story Fiona and Sophie gave me Friday when I questioned them.”

It sounded to Sophie as if Ms. Quelling were apologizing to the Pops.

“I’m sure you girls were just trying to help,” Ms. Quelling said. “But next time, you might want to check out your facts a little better before you make an accusation, okay?”

“We never meant to make trouble,” Julia said. Her friends all nodded except for Kitty, who put her face in her hands and cried.

“Did you want to say something, Kitty?” Ms. Quelling said.

“She’s really sensitive,” Anne-Stuart said. “She doesn’t like to hurt anybody’s feelings.”

“None of us do,” Julia said.

Fiona dug her nails so hard into Sophie’s palm that Sophie was sure she was going to draw blood.

Ms. Quelling turned to the group at the table. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sure you can see why I was torn. I’ll remove my comments from Sophie and Fiona’s permanent records. Please accept my apologies.”

“Apology accepted,” Mama said without smiling. Boppa nodded in agreement. He didn’t smile either.

“Can we go now?” Julia said.

“Yes. Thank you, girls,” Ms. Quelling said.

The Corn Pops hurried through the door, and Maggie trailed out behind them. Fiona held onto Sophie for about fifteen seconds before they, too, escaped to the hall. By then, the Corn Pops were down at the other end, gathered in a circle around Kitty, who was wailing like a baby.

Maggie suddenly appeared and stood in front of Sophie and Fiona.

“Thanks for sticking up for us,” Sophie said. “You saved our lives.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Fiona said. “Only from now on, could you not spy on us?”

“I won’t have to anymore,” Maggie said. “Because I’m going to be playing
with
you.” She gave them a logical smile. “I figure now you owe me.”

“Oh,” Sophie said. “Well then, we’ll see you tomorrow—at lunch, I guess.”

As Maggie walked off in even, plodding steps, Fiona turned to Sophie, mouth already open in protest, but Boppa and Mama came out of Ms. Quelling’s room.

“I’m sure you two want to spend some time with that camera tonight,” Mama said. Her eyes were shiny. “Boppa says you can come over now and stay for supper, Fiona, if you both get your homework done first thing.”

Fiona and Sophie squealed in unison.

After dinner, during which Sophie could barely take a bite of meatloaf, Daddy unrolled the progress report. He let his eyes work down to the bottom and rolled it back up. He tapped Sophie lightly on the head with it and gave her the Daddy-grin.

“Looks like I’m going to have to turn over that camera.”

Sophie shrieked so loud she was sure she sounded like Willoughby.

Daddy showed them that the camera was pretty simple. The buttons he said she needed to know about seemed made for her as they fit in all their silvery-ness under her fingertips. The minute she squinted into the eyepiece it became
clear
that Sophie’s world was meant to be seen through a camera lens. As she pointed it at Fiona, her friend filled a frame that shut out all the mundane stuff.

“Let’s get started!” Fiona said to her. “Henriette and Antoinette are waiting!”

They worked until dark. When they viewed their first film on the camera’s tiny screen, Antoinette and Henriette often had their heads chopped off, but Mama said it wasn’t bad for a first try.

“We’ll get better with practice,” Fiona said.

“You think?” Sophie said.

“Oh, definitely. We can do this whole thing over tomorrow at recess.”

Daddy looked up from the viewer. “You’re talking about at school?”

“Yes,” Fiona said. “We can do whatever we want after lunch for almost a half-hour.”

“Sophie can’t take the camera to school,” Daddy said.

“Why?” Fiona said.

Sophie winced. Daddy looked startled that she had even asked, and his voice went into lecture mode. “One: it’s expensive, and if it disappears, I can’t replace it.”

“My dad would just give you—”

“Two: I see nothing but trouble developing with those little—”

“Girls,” Mama said quickly.

“—who can’t mind their own business. And three: the whole idea of having this camera is to focus Sophie on her pretend stuff when it’s appropriate. And that isn’t at school.”

Fiona watched him, bright-eyed. Daddy suddenly grinned at her. “Do you need more information?” he said.

“No, that’s plenty,” Fiona said.

“Why don’t you two do your planning during free time and then do the actual filming after school and on weekends?” Mama said.