Open Case File [COMPLETED]

Like Father Like Daughter

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.