Sophia's P.O.V.
"What the f-" I stopped myself, realizing that my mother was inches away from me. Profanity hung at the tip of my tongue, ready to spew out of my mouth to express my genuine shock. But my mother's hawk-like glare prohibited me from saying anything with my little brother in hearing range.
"Freaking fudge," I said, holding on to the word more than necessary. I cleared my throat and clutched the phone as a heavy sigh exited my body. Saying fudge wasn't as satisfying as saying a swear word, but with Jamie staring at me through his thick glasses, I was forced to use substitutes.
Substitutes were no fun.
"Fudge?" Nicolas repeated. "Oh, right. You're home. Whatever. You still need to turn on the news. You're on there. It's not something I would want to miss if I were you."
I squeezed my eyes shut and replayed what I heard over the phone. The words that had come out of Nicolas' mouth was still processing in my head, pondering the legitimacy within his claim.
I, Sophia Álvarez, was on the news.
But ... There was no way I was on TV. Why would I be on the channel seven news?
Nicolas wasn't a liar though. He didn't sound like he was joking around when he called me. His voice was wiped clean of any humor. The usual lightness in his tone wasn't present. There was a grim undertone in everything he said, speaking to me in a slow, deep voice.
I took the remote from my mom without asking. My fingers shook, trying to find the correct number to press. The TV screen flickered to black, and then the image transitioned into the news channel Nicolas had told me to check out.
"Sophia, why are you shaking like that?" My mother asked in Spanish. Her eyes moving down to my trembling hands and up to my face. I formed them into fists, hoping she wouldn't notice them. "Mi hija. What's going on?"
"It's nothing, mom." I assured her, out of breath and blinking at the television.
The anchorwoman was in the middle of introducing a new segment, talking about how colleges sweep crimes under the rug to make their campuses appear safer than they were in reality. She brought up a case from last spring, over at Southern University. I had heard about this case when it first became national news.
Apparently a football player was continuously assaulting females on campus, but he was deemed untouchable because of his athletic title. He was racking in millions for the school, and it wasn't until the season was over when they actually charged him for his crimes.
This was not news to me. Everyone knew that college was a business.
The anchorwoman then signaled off to another person at a different location. We were then introduced to another news person. It took me approximately four seconds to recognize where this person was. They were in front of the main entrance at Lincoln University.
"Isn't that where you go to school, Sophia?" Jamie noted, wrapping his hands around the sleeve of my shirt and tugging on it. "You go there, don't you?"
Damn. Kids ask too many questions.
The lack of color in my cheeks wasn't a clear enough answer for Jamie.
"Yeah, I do," I replied softly, gaping at the TV. "I do go there."
The newsman puts a microphone up to his face and started to speak. "Earlier this evening, we received information about Lincoln University that simply seemed unfathomable. For a school that is so widely respected like Lincoln University, you would expect only the best to attend a private university like this one...
"Today, we learned that's not always the case. A group within the campus released a collection of videos of students here at Lincoln University. With a population of nearly 44,000 students, it's very easy for things to occur without reaching faculty members. The videos we were sent proves that the campus isn't as safe as the staff would likely inform you."
The screen faded to black, and then a string of videos began to play, back to back. It was almost like a montage of Reina's reign of terror on campus, playing on a loop. A few clips were of her other brother, Evan, who was just as malicious as her, if not worse because he was quite well known in High School for dating an unpopular girl as a joke.
At the very end, one clip stuck out from the rest. The camera zoomed in on a blurry figure, standing at the end of a dock. You couldn't hear the dialogue between the two people, but you could see the outlines of their body. The camera tightens up the shot and I was able to see who it was they were filming.
Sadly, it was me standing there. It was me falling into the lake, with my hands flailing in the air. It was me, crying out when I realized how deep the water was.
Watching it unfold from a different prospective caused a strange mix of emotions to wash over me. Almost like it was a new tragedy I didn't see coming.
The cries dug deep into my flesh, triggering the memories from the back of my mind and pushing them to the forefront.
I had ignored how I felt afterwards for the past few days, but I couldn't ignore them now. It was replaying right before my family's eyes. Right before millions of eyes to see.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I could hear the laughter in the background. I turned the TV off before the newsman could come back on. I had to give myself a solid fifteen seconds before bringing the phone back to my ear.
Neither of us said anything for the three minutes. The only sign I had that Nicolas was still on the line was the occasional loud breaths he would take in every now and then.
My mother's eyes were on me the entire time, but I didn't acknowledge her. What was I even supposed to say?
Hey, mom. I didn't tell you this earlier, but some really messed-up kids pushed me into a lake two weeks ago. No biggie. I'm fine now. Oh, right. And I had a boyfriend for four months and never told you about him. We're not together anymore though. So...What's for dinner?
Yeah, not gonna happen.
It wasn't like Nicolas could do anything to help the situation either. I was too stunned to even move out of the living room. My butt was glued to that couch and my eyes were peeled wide open, completely shell-shocked. If there was anyone who didn't know about that whole incident at the Lake house, they sure as hell knew now.
"Roof top in fifteen minutes?" Nicolas asked out of the blue. "I'll bring food."
It was simple. It was short, and I knew exactly what he meant.
This was the first thing he had said to me since I turned off the TV, and it was the first thing to get me up off of my ass and toward the door.
Maybe Nicolas could help after all.
Nicolas' mom lived in Downtown Los Angeles. She stayed in one of those chic lofts right in the middle of the city. During our freshman year, we both went up there whenever we needed to scream about something on our mind. There was so much chaos roaming the streets underneath us, no one would hear us yell.
I needed that right now. It was a short-term solution, but it was going to work.
"Aren't you going to stay for dinner?" Mom asked when I went for the exit. "It's almost done."
"I'll be back soon," I promised and headed out the door.
•••
Since the parking situation around the loft was shitty, I parked my bucket on wheels a few blocks away. It was nice out so I parked my car farther than I typically did. The city was alive tonight. The air was crisp and the sidewalk was full of life.
It was a nice contrast to my craptastic life.
Cars were bumper to bumper. People rushed by each other, keeping their eyes focus on the blackened gum that was left on the pavement. And I, being the socially awkward teenager that I've always been, tried my best not to trip into anyone or anything.
Which did happen. Twice. I kid you not. It's like I'm permanently in a drunken state. I couldn't stop myself from stumbling into things.
I'm pretty sure I ended up apologizing to a lamppost more than once.
Despite my inability to walk in a straight line, I enjoyed my brief walk. I liked Downtown Los Angeles more than Hollywood. In Hollywood, their streets were more packed with tourists and persistent sellers, trying to convince you to buy some beat up boombox or hand you a flyer to some sketchy place to listen to them preform. The streets were awful and so were the people.
Nicolas was outside the loft, standing on the street corner. I spotted him out from the crowd because of the stream of white smoke, floating over his head like a chimney. A brief smile spread across his face when we locked eyes and he flicked the remainder of his cigarette down on to the cement.
"Took you long enough," he said while stomping out the cigarette. "I was starting to worry. I saw your car pass this street nearly ten minutes ago."
"Well, it took so long because I did this crazy thing called walking. You should try it out sometime. You might even break a sweat while doing it."
"Nah, I already know more efficient ways to break a sweat," he said with a wink.
I groaned. "Please hold off on the sex jokes for the next twenty four hours."
"That's not something I can promise, Sophia." He shrugged and went up to the glass doors that would lead us to his loft. "I can, however, offer you a trip to the nearest fast food restaurant and even pay for your meal."
"I'm up for that." I said, walking into the seemingly quiet building.