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Sophie and the Bad Teacher

Page 103

by Ivy Smoak

She smiled at me. “Soph.”

“Scar,” I sniffed.

“I hate him for hurting you.”

I wanted to hate him. But I didn’t.

“You want to know what Aunt Melissa would say if she were here?”

I just stared at her. Aunt Melissa was one of Scarlett’s mom’s best friends. But I hadn’t seen her in years. Her family was always moving around, exploring new places. “What would she say?” I asked.

“That the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. I read my mom’s book.”

I just stared at her. It was terrible advice. But I wondered if reading her mom’s book at such a young age had maybe messed with my head a bit. It had made teachers sexy and unattainable in my head. Until they finally gave in to temptation. I think those books had messed with my idea of romance. And not every story ended with a happily ever after in real life.

“I don’t want to get under someone else,” I said.

“Come on, hooking up with people is like your favorite pastime.”

I shook my head.

“Let’s message your mystery man. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to come over and add to the notches on your bedpost.”

I burst into tears again.

“Soph.”

I don’t think I’d ever heard her sound more worried before.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “We don’t have to talk about that. I just hate seeing you hurting and maybe...” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

I sobbed even harder.

“I know that Mr. Halifax is an asshole. But you shouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hurting you like this.”

“He didn’t hurt me. He broke me.”

Scarlett shook her head. “No, he didn’t. You...”

“I don’t have notches on my bedpost.” There. I’d said it.

“Well, I mean, I know you don’t have guys over here. Your mom would kill you.”

“No, I mean...” my voice trailed off. This was so mortifying. But maybe this would make her understand why this hurt so damn much. Because it wasn’t just that Mr. Halifax left. It’s that he’d taken everything from me before he skipped town. Everything. “I only have one notch.”

“What are you talking about?”

I couldn’t even look at her. I pulled another pillow to my chest and closed my eyes. And I pictured his staring back at me. “It was my first time.”

“What was your first time?”

What was she not getting?

“Sophie, what are you talking about?” She put her hand on my shoulder.

I slowly opened my eyes. “The party. Mr. Halifax. That was my first time.”

She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”