Another Met?

Chapter 2: Try Again

A/N: this chapter takes place at Mrs. Well's Home for Orphans. I hope you like it!

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August 7

Sophia's POV

I watched from my window as a navy blue Mini Cooper drove into the driveway. A tall man with a mop of curly, bright orange hair and a shorter woman with light brown hair stepped out of the car and entered the brick building I was in.

I laid down on my bed trying to listen to the conversation happening below me, but all I could hear were muffled voices. I don't know why, but I was excited to meet this couple. I had an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach that I had never felt in all of my ten years here. Maybe I would be adopted today. I smiled at the thought of a family.

I closed my eyes as I imagined my life with loving parents and even a sibling, but a sudden knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Is anyone in there? Can we come in?" A soft, kind female voice said.

"Hi, you can come in," I said, still a little bit startled.

The couple that I had previously seen outside was now standing in my doorway. Now that I could see them much closer, I realized that they were both relatively young. They both must have been in their mid twenties.

"You must be Sophia," the man said, looking at a paper that Mrs. Wells must have given him, "I'm Alan and this here is my lovely wife Neena."

I shook both of their hands while saying, "Nice to meet you. As you already know my name is Sophia, but you can call me Sophie if you'd like."

"So Sophie, how old are you and what are some of your hobbies?" Neena said, smiling warmly at me.

"I am thirteen, almost fourteen and in my free time I like to play my instruments, skateboard, and I also enjoy making art, especially pottery," I replied, not even having to think about what I had to say because I had said this so many times while I had been here.

"Wow, you're a talented girl. What instruments do you play?" Neena asked, looking around my room.

I was about to speak when Mrs. Wells popped her head into the doorway, informing the couple that the younger children had just woken up from their naps.

In less than a minute, the couple had already quickly said goodbye and had probably already forgotten about our conversation.

I laid back down on top of the covers on my bed, closing my eyes while imagining a family again. A tear slipped down my cheek as I began to think about how I would never get adopted. There was once a girl named Chloe that was at the orphanage when I first came who didn't ever get adopted and by the time she turned eighteen, she was required to leave.

Next thing I knew, more and more tears spilled onto my cheeks as I cried myself to sleep, with only a small amount of hope left in me.

I guess I'll just have to try again next time...