Sophia. Sophia. Her name was Sophia. So-phi-a. Three syllables had never sounded so beautiful. Sophia, derived from the greek word sophos. It meant wisdom, kind of on the nose don't you think? She was even better than I'd thought. Never in my life had I heard someone say the words "Agatha Christie is a macabre goddess", and never have I loved a sentence so much.
I made her laugh too. I was still relishing in the triumph of that one. Her laugh was adorable. And I'd been trying to get her to do it again since the first time it happened. I might sell my soul just to hear her laugh again.
We hadn't stopped talking since she'd woken up. It seemed to relax her. The plane's turbulence also hadn't ceased, and I saw the way her fingernails dug inot her seat cushion. She definitely did not like flying. I was happy to be her distraction if it meant I got to talk to her.
Now I had loads of information to add to the things I know list. Her name was Sophia Randall. She was eighteen, like me, and had just graduated too. She was from Brookline, which explained why I'd never seen her around. My dad's house was in Andover, close to my school. The towns were about an hour away from one another and our schools didn't play in the same league for sports. Although I assumed I wouldn't have seen her even if we were. She didn't strike me as the sort of person who attended sporting events.
"Philips Academy?" she was saying "Should've known you were a private school boy."
"Hey! I think I cover the prep pretty well." I tried to, at least. It was harder when I was around my dad. Bradford Jones III was a well known name around Andover.
"He says in his British accent," Sophia smiled, blue eyes twinkling. I could've died happy right there. She cleared her throat, mimicking me, "I think I cover the prep pretty well, chap. Cheerio, mate. Tea's on Tuesday innit?" It was worse than Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing, "Was that your British accent?"
"That's what you sound like."
"I sincerely hope not."
"I sincerely hope not," Sophia mocked again, this time in a deeper voice.
I chuckled, "That was horrible."
"Don't you mean rubbish?" she asked, smirking. She was really committed to this whole bit. And somehow her horrible British accent only made her more attractive. "Was it rubbish, mate? Absolute rubbish, eh?"
"Oh, dear god it's worse," I laughed out loud, breaking into a broad grin. I clutched my heart, "It's actually getting worse. I— I didn't think it was possible."
She elbowed me, giggling, "Oi!"
I'd made her laugh again, thank god. It was like diving into a clear lake on a hot summer day, deliciously cool and unbelievably sweet. Her laugh was everything.
I covered my ears dramatically, "I can't— please put me out of my misery."
After our amusement had subsided, we'd gotten a few dirty looks from the couple in front of us, who had a sleeping baby, I turned to her, questioning, "So what about you?"
"What about me?"
It was hard not to lose myself in Sophia's eyes. They weren't blue like I'd originally thought. I mean, they were, but it wasn't just blue. They were a deep indigo, almost glowing, like two identical pools of vibrant ink. They sparkled when she laughed that wonderful laugh, glinted when I challenged her. I quite enjoyed challenging her, and she seemed to enjoy it as well.
"Where'd you go to high school?"
"Ah, ah, ah," Sophia wagged her finger at me. "Why don't you tell me, smart guy?"
"Sorry?" I wasn't expecting that.
"Don't tell me you can't do it," she arched an eyebrow, lips twisting mischievously. Now she was challenging me. I liked it.
A lot.
"Fine," I folded my arms, this would be easy, "you went to Brookline High."
"I didn't tell you that."
"I know." I grinned, "But I'm right aren't I?"
"It's possible."
"You hate admitting I'm right, don't you?"
"How did you know?"
No one's ever asked me that before. Most people just think it's weird. Or like a fun party trick to pull out at social gatherings. Others think it's creepy. But no one has ever asked me how I do it.
I shrugged, "I guess I just notice things."
Sophia rolled her eyes, "Are you secretly from the BAU?"
She likes Criminal Minds. I thought to myself, cataloguing it away in the growing folder of my information on this intriguing girl. That explained the murder mysteries. Assuming she was attracted to males, which Danny had given me 85% odds on, she probably thought one of the leads was attractive. I pegged her as a Spencer Reid girl, but she could have deep seated daddy issues, which pointed to Aaron Hotchner. Maybe I was reading too much into things and she really only watched the show for that blonde one, or the one played by Paget Brewster. Either way, I looked nothing like Matthew Gray Gubler or whatever actor played Aaron Hotchner, so it didn't help me much.
I think she liked me though. Even if I didn't look like Matthew Gray Gubler. My intuition was usually right, but with her, I don't know. I knew how to flirt. I knew what to say to make a girl like me. Sophia was just— different. She surprised me. And it took a lot to surprise me.
Sophia surprised me.
I hadn't asked her about her relationship status yet. I hadn't figured it out either. Or maybe I just hadn't tried. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know. If that guy on her screensaver was her boyfriend— well it might break me just a little bit.
The thing was, I'd never met someone like her before. She was funny, really truly funny. Talking with her wasn't awkward and I wasn't always thinking one step ahead. I was just being myself. It had never been so easy to be myself.
"You caught me," I hung my head in fake dejection. "Now you've blown my cover."
"Seriously, though," she asked again, "how'd you do it?"
Before I could answer, the plane jerked violently. The ride had not been smooth since takeoff, but this instance was particularly jarring. For more than one reason. Sophia's hand closed over mine, and this time, she didn't let go.
I trained my eyes on the seat in front of me, not wanting to make any sudden movements lest I scare her off. Her fingers were soft, and I had to resist the urge to interlace them with my own. Calm, calm, be calm Jake. Stay calm. I snuck a glance at her expression.
Her complexion had paled, and I could see her teeth digging into her bottom lip so hard I was afraid she'd draw blood. The plane jerked again and she let out a little gasp. Without thinking too much about it, I squeezed her hand gently. I know I probably shouldn't have, but somehow I felt she needed it.
My instincts proved right in the situation because I was granted with a grateful smile. Her smiles were nearly as good as her laughs. They were like sunshine, and I wanted to soak them up as much as I could.
"Sorry," Sophia apologized, chewing on the inner corner of her cheek. "I promise I don't normally touch strangers like this."
She relinquished my hand from her grasp, and I desperately wanted to tug her back to me. I missed the feel of her palm in mine. God, I was so screwed. I was probably never going to see her again either. This might be the stupidest thing I've ever done.
"Aw c'mon," I ran a hand through my hair, tousling it. "I'm not a stranger."
She threw me a skeptical look, "We met less than five hours ago."
"Are you saying we're not friends, Sophia?" I pouted, batting what I hoped were swoon worthy puppy dog eyes.
"Definitely not."
"And why is that?" Was I flirting with her? Possibly. I don't know why it bothered me so much that she thought of me as a stranger. It wasn't like my main goal was to friends with her. I mean, I'd love to be friends with her. But like— friends that kiss and really aren't friends at all because they're dating. Yeah. I was so so royally screwed.
She tilted her chin up, "First of all, my friends don't call me Sophia."
"What do they call you then?"
"Nice try," Sophia shook her head. "Nicknames are reserved for friends."
"Which we are not."
"Correct."
Now I really wanted to know what her nicknames were. I was assuming Sophie, or Fia, or Soph. Or maybe Fifi. I hoped it wasn't Fifi. That sounded like the name of a small pink poodle. I also hoped that that guy on her lock screen didn't have a special nickname for her.
I was thrown forward in my seat. Jesus, what was the matter with this plane? I'd never been on a flight this rough. It was like being rolled down a rocky mountain in a flimsy tin can.
Sophia grabbed my arm impulsively, then reddened. She ducked her head, face pink. She was really really cute when she was embarrassed. "I'm gonna try not to do that anymore," she murmured, "again, very sorry."
"I don't mind," I blurted, before I could stop myself. Damn it. Stupid mouth. I usually had no trouble thinking before I spoke, but with Sophia it was like the words just fell out of their own accord. No regard for my own sanity of course.
Her eyebrows shot up. I couldn't tell if she was pleased, endeared, or freaked out.
"Oh, yeah?" Pleased? I was leaning towards pleased. Maybe it was wishful thinking, though...
I'm a hundred percent sure I turned into a lobster. "I— I didn't," I stammered. What was happening to me? Smooth, Jake. Real smooth. Anyone who ever called me a ladies man in high school should see me now. I was just tall, and sorta popular because I was on the football team. Danny had always been more popular, he had a great party house.
I'm not saying I hadn't had opportunities. I had. There had been a substantial amount of girls interested in me in high school. I just hadn't really wanted to move forward with any of them. Meanwhile, Danny had a boyfriend more often than he was single. I had experience with girls. But apparently all that had gone to absolute shit the moment I laid eyes on Sophia.
I was still stuttering like a moron, Sophia highly amused. "I mean— I didn't— I only— well, you see—"
"You're blushing," she snickered, delighted.
"I am not!" I protested defensively. Maybe too defensively.
"I changed my mind," Sophia told me, giggling. "You couldn't be from the BAU, you're a horrible liar."
I decided I loved it when she teased me. I'd be a bad liar any day, for her.
"Attention passengers," the pilot's voice echoed through the aisles, "our flight has been diverted due to bad weather. We will be arriving at the Denver airport in fifteen minutes. We greatly apologize for the inconvenience, a connecting flight will be provided. Flight attendants please prepare for landing."
Colorado? We were barely halfway to Hawaii. Selfishly however, I was grateful for the bad weather. It provided me more time with Sophia. That is, if she wasn't sick of me yet.
"Shit," Sophia muttered under her breath, typing frantically on her phone.
"You okay?" I tilted my head, peering at her with concern.
She nodded, not looking up from her device, "Fine, I'm just— I have to tell my sister to go home— I— it doesn't matter."
"Your older sister lives in Hawaii?"
"I never said it was my older sister."
I grinned, tapping the side of my head, "You didn't have to."
The expression on Sophia's face was priceless. I almost wanted to snap a picture of it and save it forever.
Sophia blinked at me, "That's gonna get annoying fast, isn't it?"
"Only if you're planning on spending more time with me," I replied, shrugging. I eyed her carefully, "Are you planning on spending more time with me, Sophia?"
I cannot express how much I wanted her answer to be yes.
The twinkling lights of the city were beginning to come into view down below. I wondered what time it was in Colorado. It was past midnight in Massachusetts, but I had no idea what the time difference was between the states. We were plunging at a rapid pace down through the clouds, bumping all the while.
Sophia was still looking worried, cupid's bow mouth drawn together in an anxious line. She kept checking her phone, as if something would change in the ten seconds since she'd checked it last.
"Seriously," I pressed again, "are you okay?"
"Fine," she repeated, one time too many. "Fine, fine." Her knee jiggled up and down.
"You look it," I remarked sarcastically, and quickly realized my mistake. She whipped her head around, the sheen of her dark hair flung over her shoulder. Her icy gaze narrowed. "Ah," I winced, backing away, "scary eyes."
Sophia folded her arms pointedly, the teeniest bit smug with her successful intimidation. She had never been more attractive.
I sighed, "I'm sure your older sister— what's her name?"
"Abigail. Abby."
"I'm sure Abby will be fine with the change of plans. It's not like it's your fault."
She laughed shortly, "Oh, Abby will absolutely be fine. I'm not worried about that."
The plane hit the tarmac with a jolt, gears whirring at warp speed. Sophia and I shot forward in our seats, and my dumb brain decided that it would be a good idea to put my hand on her thigh to brace myself. I removed it the instant I realized what I'd done.
"You just put your hand on my thigh."
"Noticed that did you?" I winced, rubbing my jaw. "Is this the part where you say, 'I don't mind'?"
"Mmmmm, no. I don't think so."
"I promise I am not usually this forward," I said, as the passengers around us began to rise from their seats. "I mean— not that I'm trying to be forward," I corrected myself, face palming. "I mean— I wasn't— uh..." I hate myself, I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself.
She brushed past me to get to the over head compartment, giggling, "There's the jock."
My stomach grumbled loudly in response. I usually ate like five meals a day, and I hadn't had food in over seven hours.
I noticed her struggling yet again with getting her suitcase down and tried not to laugh.
"Need some help there?" I asked, raising myself to my full height.
Sophia frowned, "No."
"Got it," I said, subsequently reaching over her to grab both our suitcases. I handed hers to her with a raise of my eyebrow.
"Thank you," she huffed. It was like watching a kitten get angry.
I took a deep breath. This was it. My chance. "So, wanna get dinner while we wait?" I ventured, crossing my fingers behind my back. We were some of the last people remaining on the aircraft. "I don't know what's open, but—"
"How is asking me out on a date not forward?"
"I never said anything about a date, Sophia." I smirked, watching her face flush. "Who's the forward one again?" I beamed happily, her cheeks taking on a rosy hue. "Sophia Randall I do believe you're blushing." I loved saying her name. It tasted sweet on my tongue. Sophia. Sophia. Sophia.
"It's taking a lot in me not to kick you in the shins right now."
"Dinner with a stranger?" I held out my hand in question, palm up, waiting for her answer. I'd never been more nervous in my life. "What do you say, Sophia?"