Sophia is very much transparent. That’s what made her strange. She only feels two things: happy and sad. And one can pretty much tell her mood because she can genuinely express it. Express the only two emotions she knows without pretension.
After two weeks of constant mood changes, Luke has finally discovered that during her happy days, she’d wear something bright. Lively. Colorful. Today she wears yellow and royal blue and Luke cannot help but let out a small smile.
Today, is also the start of football season and he is quite happy to see his usual table full of his friends’ girlfriends. Jack, his closest friend stands up to pull a chair only to shake his head and mouthed, “It’s only lunch, I’ll find another table.”
Luke breathes a sigh of relief when he notices almost all tables are full. Almost. Except Sophia’s. He smiles a little and quickly shakes it off when he thought someone might be looking. She is in her happy state today. And while eating her mac and cheese, she hums a tune he’s sure she just invented.
“Mind if I take this seat? All the rest are full.” students nearby whisper in hush tones, one cheerleader stands up and links her arms around Luke’s.
“You can sit beside us. I’ll pull a chair for you. You don’t have to sit beside her.” Britanny said the last few words as if Sophia hasn’t bathed in days. Girls treat her that way. Whenever she enters the halls during her happy state girls will cringe when she pass as if they smell something bad.
Sophia smiled as if she was just told that she’s beautiful. “Go on. You can sit with her.” she said in a sing song voice.
Luke sits at Sophia’s table, “You don’t have to pull a chair for me. I’ll sit beside her.” the students who heard him stared at him agape. “It’s just lunch.” he adds and then they nod and continued eating.
When Britanny left, Luke straightened himself and smiled at Sophia. “Hi.”
“Good day.” she replies and continues to munch on her lunch.
They sit there in silence and most people will fidget when there’s silence but Luke and Sophia just sit there eating lunch, comfortable with the silence as they are comfortable in listening to the rain.
“Do you have a list?” Sophia is like that, she will all of a sudden ask a vague question hoping the one she’s asking will understand and answer her right away. He didn’t. He looks at her confused while she looks at him smiling.
“What list?” he asks finally when she didn’t further explain her question.
“A list. The things you want to do before you perish.”
“Like a bucket list?”
She didn’t answer, she just looks at him waiting for an answer. “I haven’t thought about it.” he says finally. And for a moment he was afraid he let her down. Disappointed her. And maybe after answering that she’ll think he’s nothing else but a guy who wants to be popular. She might think he’s shallow. He feels shallow. And he feels ashamed that he hasn’t thought about the things he’ll do before he dies.
“You’re the captain of the football team, right?” she asks again. This is another thing about Sophia, she easily changes the topic of conversation whenever she feels like it, leaving the previous ones unfinished.
“Yes.” he answers while trying to figure her out. But no one can figure out Sophia.
“What time do they set the sprinklers at the football field?”
He scratches his head at her question but answers anyway, “Around five in the afternoon. Why do you ask?”
She smiles at him and continues eating and it falls quiet again. The thing is, Sophia can ask a lot of questions. And whenever she asks she makes sure they answer. But Sophia doesn’t like answering questions. The questioning belongs to her. The answering not so much.
They eat in silence and when the bell rings Sophia flounces out of the cafeteria, skipping, singing, twirling around as if she won the lottery.
Hours passed with Luke trying to figure out the connection of bucket lists and sprinklers. When the final bell rang signalling the end of class he finds himself running towards the football stadium.
He rests his hands on his knees and pants as he scans the stadium for any sign of Sophia. She isn’t there. He takes another look and suddenly the sprinklers are on and she sees Sophia. Skipping. Dancing.
Students who are there to see the players practice looks at her. Some laughed. Some whispered. Some criticized her. Someone even shouted, “You are not in a freak show Sophia Strange!!!”
But she didn’t stop. She just continues to dance and laugh as the water from the sprinklers bathe her with laughter. The touch of the droplets leaving her nothing but soft hints of joy that makes her glisten under the setting sun.
He noticed the notebook propped open in one of the bench and when he bent his neck a little he saw her neat handwriting, “Sophia’s List. Dance Under The Rain As If No one is Watching. Deadline. July 9, 2012.” That’s today, he thought. And he knows it will not rain. And then after hours of thinking he finally made the connection between lists and sprinklers and that connection is Sophia. For a second, their eyes met and he cups his hands and tries calling her. “Hey! Get out! You’ll get sick!”
She continues prancing around as if she heard nothing. Luke tries again, “Aren’t you going to stop? People are already looking! They’re already calling you Sophia Strange!!”
That’s when she stops. For a while he thought she’s going to cry. But then she slowly lifts her head to him and smiles.
“Why are you smiling?” he yells at her again. The students at the stadium are now talking about something else. Almost all of them who were busy laughing at her and calling her strange found a better thing to do other than stress themselves out.
“They are calling me what?” she says as she walks near Luke, who is standing at the player’s corner.
“Sophia Strange.” this time he didn’t yell, she’s only a few feet away from him. And then she smiles again and continues dancing around singing.
“Doesn’t that bother you?” he asks again trying to get her senses together, this time the sprinklers are already off.
“Why?” she looks at him again the smile on her face never fading. “Sophia Strange sounds beautiful.”
And she danced. Pranced. Skipped. Twirled. Sang her lungs out up until the last rays of the golden sun dried her up.
