Sophia packed her school bag and sighed. She needed coffee. With a dab of sugar… or perhaps a lot of sugar. Instead she collapsed onto her bed for that extra five minutes of comfort and tried to imagine she wasn't going to Blue Meadow High that morning. Twisting her head, she caught sight of herself in the mirror; heavy hoodie thrown over slim blue jeans. A battered pair of black converse hi-tops completed the look. Light brown hair hid the best part of her face. It was a face covered in freckles the same fall-chestnut color as her eyes.

Her mom had always said they were her own little stars, placed there for all the good deeds she had done. When she was young, she had believed it, had strived to do good things. Every time a new freckle arrived she would run to her mom and together they would sit in front of her mirror and connect the dots, drawing patterns and giving them stories. Just like the constellations in the sky.

She had always been proud of her freckles.

Until Junior High.

The magic had died in Junior High.

The other girls had bullied her. Teased her. Her freckles were no longer her reward; they were her punishment. She hated them and had even tried to stop doing good deeds. Anything to make the freckles go away. But they never had. So, she hid behind her hair and her hoodie. Shied away from the world and the people in it.

"So ugly," she whispered to herself. She placed a finger on her face and rubbed at the brown dots. Tracing them in small patterns she felt water build upon her eyelids. She wiped it away angrily with the back of her hand.

 "Why do I have to have you. I hate you!" 

 "Sophia," her mom called up the stairs. "You're going to be late."

She sniffed away her misery. "I know mom! I'm coming!" she shouted back, while secretly thinking of all the ways she could avoid going to school that day. Perhaps she could just not go. There was a park near her house, it sat atop a great hill and looked out over the whole town. Nobody ever visited it. She could stay there until the end of school, read her books and wait it out.

 "Sophia!"

 "Ok! I'm coming! God," she said the last part quieter, made sure her mom couldn't hear.

Tying up her laces, Sophia headed downstairs. Her mom was already dressed and ready for work. She wore a dark red lipstick that looked wrong on her. Her white pharmacy uniform didn't work for her pale skin, either. There were no freckles on her mom's skin. Sophia's curse came from her dad- another reason to hate the freckles.

Her mom smiled, cheeks lifting to show small lines at the corners of her eyes. Sophia tried to hide her sadness at her mom's visible aging. Since their dad left, Sophia's mom had never been the same. She could never quite hide the weariness that fell like a dim shadow over her face. There was still beauty in her face. In Sophia’s eyes that beauty would always be there, but she was no longer the same person who would take Sophia to the park or have races on their bikes. That person had gone, worn away by time, heartache and bills.

 "Have you got your lunch?" her mom asked.

 "I'll just pick something up."

 "Do you have any money?"

 "No..."

 Her mom tutted dramatically and dug into her purse. "Take this." She handed Sophia a scrunched up ten-dollar note.

 "Thanks, mom."

 "You're welcome." She leaned forward and kissed Sophia on her cheek, as she always had. "So beautiful," she said to herself, tracing a finger over Sophia's freckles. Sophia tried to pull away, but another smile lit up her mom’s face face. "Ok, now it really is time to go!"

Sophia found herself being shooed out of the house. Outside the world was green and warm. Spring's light fell over well-manicured lawns and row after row of identical garden patches. As she walked down her street, she couldn't help but notice that everything was the same.

Everything.

The cars parked outside the garages were all as dull as they were indistinguishable; Hondas of blacks and silvers, with the odd Toyota thrown in for good measure. Heaven forbid somebody drove a car with a sliver of color, she thought to herself. As she continued her walk, more teens began to leave mirror-image homes. They joined other groups and quickly filled the street with laughter and shouting. The boys pushed each other and jostled for leadership of their small groups, the girls looked at the boys and laughed at their immaturity. It was the same routine everyday. Had been for as long as Sophia could remember. Nothing really changed on her street.

Sophia shook her head quietly, put in her earphones and pulled up her hood. It was a warm day, but she felt the urge to hide from the light and the faces all around her. With her hood and her headphones it was easy to pretend she was in her own music video. She’d seen the type many times; a lone singer on a packed street walking against a crowd that blurred in the background. This walk was her own version of that. It was a fantasy she fell into often. It gave her power. Made her untouchable.

Sophia against the world.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

She smiled beneath her hood, as a light wind flicked at the hair around her face. She was hidden, with the world drowned out; alone. Nothing could touch her behind her hood.

The feeling quickly left her when she spied Blue Meadow High. The red-brown brick building loomed over her. Trimmed trees either side of a gray path. Groups of teenagers lingered around outside. Somebody bumped her shoulder. She turned, saw a blond girl make a comment to her group of friends. They laughed and shot lingering looks at Sophia. Sophia drew the strings of her hood tighter and turned up her music.

The big clock on the front of the building showed 7:50.

Not too late to head to the park. Nobody will even notice you leave. Said a voice in her head.

She climbed the school steps.

Music continued to play in her ears. More and more students filled the school premises around her. Some were sleepy and disheveled; some were annoyingly made up and beautiful. A group of boys strolled through the corridor. Their easy-going confidence and the way they commanded the attention of all the other students told her they were the football players.

It didn't matter to Sophia.

Smart or beautiful, athletic or popular— they were all just background actors in her music video. Their mouths may move, but no sound came out. They were just there to fill the scene. She was the star. She pushed through the hall. A lady stopped in front of her. Arms folded, a frown above heavy-rimmed glasses. She looked down at Sophia and said something.

Sophia pulled out her headphone. "Sorry, miss."

"I said take your hood down, you're inside the school now. And get to your class, you're going to be late."

"Yes miss." She pulled her hood down, messy hair falling over her face. Some of the other kids had turned to watch her get told off. They were laughing. Sophia felt her cheeks burn and quickly rushed to homeroom. Throwing her bag on her desk, she took her seat. Other students were already sitting, but at the back of class a huddle of boys and girls were listening to music on a phone.

Mumble rap.

Sophia didn't get it. It just sounded to her like the artist couldn't be bothered. And if they couldn't be bothered to make their music, she couldn't be bothered to listen to it. Not that she had much choice, as some of the boys started to rap along loudly. A few shouts of 'shut up!' from other students in the class were ignored.

"They sound like my mom lecturing my dad after her fourth Valium of the day," a girl next to her whispered.

Sophia giggled. The girl was Amy, Sophia's best friend. She was chubby and because of that she was overlooked by the boys of the school. They were fools. Despite her weight, Amy had a wonderful face and lovely curly hair. Sophia knew she would be beautiful when she was older. When she finally grew into her body.

"More like Mr Finkle trying to teach us vectors after drinking his ‘special’ coffee." She made a drinking motion with her hand, tipping her head back. It was Amy's turn to giggle- a sound which quickly became a flood of uncontrollable snorts. Some of the other students pointed at Amy, but Sophia's friend ignored them. It was one of the reasons Sophia loved her friend so much— she didn't care what anybody thought.

Sophia wished she could be more like that.

"Music off!" Their homeroom teacher, a tall, slightly hunched man with balding gray hair and an ill-fitting suit strolled into the room. Mr Shircliff— though the students usually called him Mr Shirtlift because of the fact his shirts never tended to fit right.

"Come on sir! The song isn't even finished yet!" someone protested from the back of the room. Sophia cringed. Why couldn't they just do what the teacher said? Every morning it was the same; every morning she had to listen to the same constant, stupid arguments.

"I said off, Lucas. Now."

There were some mumblings as the students turned off their music and returned, reluctantly to their seats. Some of the boys made a dramatic show, pulling their legs slowly across the floor. At the back a group of girls laughed. Sophia wanted to throw her bag at them.

"Thank you," Sophia whispered as the god-awful music stopped and the students finally slumped into their desks.

Mr Shircliff quickly went through the attendance and filed off a list of messages Sophia didn't hear. After the anxiety of having her own name called had passed, she had switched off. In her bag was a book, and she was already fantasizing about getting back home and reading it later. It was a novel about travel. About a Singaporean woman who went around the world on her Vespa scooter. The last chapter Sophia had read was all about Africa. Ghana, with its untouched beaches and frothing waterfalls. Colorful people who danced and sang and shared and didn't care about who had the most expensive sneakers or got the best kill on Fortnite.

"Ok, that's everything." Mr Shircliff's weary voice brought Sophia back to an unwelcome reality. "You have thirteen seconds to get to your first periods. Twelve." A crooked smile brought a groan from the students, as it always did when their homeroom teacher thought he was being funny.

"Well, I hope you're ready for another terrible day," Amy said as they picked up bags and rose from their desks.

Sophia tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear.

She wasn't ready.

The morning's periods went about as well as she expected. That was to say, they went terribly. Memories of biology class still made her cringe. Mrs Matthews had been dissecting the organs of a sheep when she called the class round to get a better look. Sophia, not wanting to huddle forward with the rest of the crowd, stayed at her desk and simply stood on the leg bracket of her stool to get a better look. Truthfully, she was interested in the experiment. It was fascinating to her. Mrs Matthews hadn't seen it that way though.

"Are you ok?" she had asked. Immediately every head in the class turned in Sophia's direction. "You're looking pale. If you want to leave, it's fine. I don't want anyone throwing up all over my classroom!"

The other students laughed; Sophia flushed. I always look pale! she had wanted to shout. "I'm fine," she had said instead. But the nerves of being called out in front of everybody had stolen all volume from her voice, and the squeak that came out of her mouth suggested that maybe she wasn't fine.

"Do you want some water?"

Please just shut up! But she hadn't said that. She knew Mrs Matthews was only trying to be nice. "No. I'm fine," this time the words came out louder and seemed to satisfy her teacher, who nodded and went back to prodding around at the intestines of the farm animal.

The awkward, uncomfortable memory still burned fresh in her mind as she found herself in the lunch hall. It was already full, boisterous and noisy. She bought a sandwich and quickly hurried outside. The air was still warm with a slight chill wind. Finding a peaceful spot, away from the others, she dropped her stuff onto the grass and began to eat her sandwich. She sat and watched the world go by. The odd car, birds in the trees and the distant clamor of a sports game provided the only soundtrack to the scene.

She closed her eyes, pictured herself anywhere but at Blue Meadow High.

Her eyes flickered open. Beyond the square buildings and the wide streets, she saw it. It seemed to call to her.

Stuffing down the rest of her sandwich, she scrunched up the wrapper and put it in her hoodie pocket. Picking up her stuff, she dusted the grass stains from the back of her legs and, perhaps for the first time in a long time, Sophia made a decision of her very own.

Skipping school, Sophia headed for the park.