Sophie: A Story of Change

Teen Dreams and French Fries

There was little reason for Sophie to dwell on her lost time, however. She seemed to be safe enough and she wasn't even hung over. That was a little odd too, though, wasn't it? If someone got drunk enough to black out, shouldn't they also have a hangover? Was that how hangovers worked? She remembered Heather S. telling her she rarely got them. Either way, today was the day she was going to the fair with Chloe, and that took up much more real estate in Sophie's mind than whatever had happened last night.

Excited, Sophie made her way downstairs to find breakfast already prepared.

"Morning," she mumbled quietly. Her parents looked up at her.

Sophie's mom chuckled. "Woah, bed-head alert. Sleep well?" Sophie ran her hands through her hair and confirmed that it was indeed resembling a bird's nest at the moment. She nodded in reply. She began to fill her plate with pancakes and sausage and plopped down on a stool next to her mother while her father flipped another pancake. The delightful mix of sweet and savory aromas in the kitchen quickly made her mouth water.

"You got home awfully late last night," her father said.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I've never been to a party before. I didn't realize how late they ran," Sophie explained.

He gave her a concerned look. "There wasn't drinking, was there?"

"Uh, yeah," Sophie admitted. "Heather S. kinda had too much and we had to wait for her to sober up before she could drive me home."

That probably wasn't a lie. Heather S. had been drinking, and even as drunk as she was Sophie never would have allowed her to drive her home while drunk. At least, she thought she wouldn't.

Her mother nodded. "That was a very responsible choice."

"However," her father added sternly, "in the future, you need to have a plan. When you go out with your friends, you need to know who will be there, whether there will be alcohol, and how you're going to get home. Remember, you can always call a cab, or call us if you're in trouble. Or just ask to borrow my car in the first place and avoid the problem completely."

"Erm... speaking of which..." Sophie said, sheepishly.

"You want to borrow my car," her father finished. His expression was unreadable behind his scruffy facial hair stubble and sleep-caked eyes.

"Chloe asked me to the fair today at around five."

The two shared a look as they considered this.

"Alright," her father said. "I think you've proven yourself responsible." He pondered for a moment. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself of what he should say. Sophie's mom decided to cut in as well.

"Plus, the fair's pretty safe. And...public," she added, with just a hint of embarrassment. "We'll trust you to take care of yourself." Sophie's dad walked over and grabbed his keys from the hook by the door and offered them to her in a mock begrudging manner. Sophie snatched them from his hands and stuck her tongue out at him. However, she felt a small stab of guilt as she took them. She hadn't really acted responsibly last night--she had gotten blackout drunk with absolutely no plan for how to get home.

"But," Sophie's father added.

"But?" Sophie repeated back.

"But," he continued, "you'll have a curfew to make up for last night."

Sophie sighed. That was fair. "How late?"

"Eleven. If you can't make it, make sure to call me, okay? No texting." He was obstinate, any sense of the jovial tone he might've possessed earlier was replaced by what he suddenly found himself as. A father protective of his only daughter.