#FreewriteMadness Quick Update: a Heartwarming Moment for Sophie

This post is a quick writing session intended to push me above the par line for today, as defined by the official #NaNoWriMo website (at this moment, I'm on 31,645 words, and the target for me to stay on par is 31,667).

I also want to write something a bit more positive for poor Sophie, my teenage character who has been going through a terrible time in school. In my previous posts, I've explored the bullying and manipulation that she experiences at the hands of her peers ... but one girl called Clara has emerged as a true, genuine friend to her. I want to give Sophie some joy! ❤️ This post explores the state of their friendship at the very end of the book, when all of the drama and pain has been and gone.

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'Do you want my Penguin bar?' Clara asks me, holding it out.

'Sure! Want my granola?'

'Yep.'

'I don't understand why you don't like Penguin bars, Clara,' I tell her as I take it. 'They're the shit!'

'Not the shit,' she says with a smile. 'Just shit!'

I laugh. 'Whatever. Crazy girl!'

'I used to like them, but lately...' She pauses in the midst of eating her yoghurt and scrunches up her nose a bit. 'I don't know, I'm going off them, for some reason. Does that ever happen to you? When you like a food for ages, but then suddenly, it doesn't taste as good anymore?'

'Mm ... not sure. My parents say I used to love parsnips as a baby, but I hate them now and I feel like they're just saying I used to like them as a way of getting me to like them again.' I roll my eyes as I rip open the Penguin bar wrapper. 'Yeah, 'cause that's gonna happen...'

This has been a new thing over the past few weeks: me and Clara sitting together at lunch. We're sitting on the steps of the sports hall, at the opposite end of the yard to Yvonne and Jessie and Stephanie. No way are we going near them! They stay far away from us too, though, so it's fine.

It's weird how it all started. Basically, the day I finally felt able to come back into school – after all those meetings with the principal and the holiday with Mammy and everything – I saw Clara sitting on her own out in the yard, just reading a book, and I felt really bad because ... well, after she had told me about the awful group chat, I'd never, ever spoken to her about the whole thing. I had just assumed she would never want to talk to me again, but the thing is, she was left just as isolated as I was after the group fell apart.

I had never really considered exactly how she must have felt about it all – I was too wrapped up in my own shit – but when I saw her all alone that day, I knew I had to go over and talk to her. I had to apologise. She had lost her friends – even if they weren't actually real friends in the end – because of me. I'd never really taken the time to tell her how sorry I was for that.

Just interrupting this really quickly to note my final word count for the day and put it into the #FreewriteMadness form, as it is nearly midnight now. I just wrote 390 words, giving me 3,413 words altogether today. I'm officially above par once again after my slow weekend!

That day, I just kind of went up to her, all awkward, and said, 'Clara? Listen ... I'm really sorry Yvonne found out that you were the one who showed me the group chat. I ... I promise you, Clara, I didn't tell her. Jessie guessed it, and I wasn't able to deny it well enough. I really am so sorry, though, and I hope, eventually, that you'll be able to forgive me.' She just stared at me for a second, nodded and said 'thank you' in that quiet voice of hers. She went back to reading her book then. But the next day she came up to me and said she didn't want her Penguin bar, and would I like to have it? I said sure, and gave her my granola bar instead.

Since then, we've gradually begun to spend more and more time together at lunch. She's really quiet, mostly – making conversation with her isn't easy – but we're getting to know each other a little better, I guess. At least I don't ever have to worry about her saying awful things about me in some secret group chat!

There is one thing weighing on my mind, though: the day Jessie and I bitched about her. Looking back now, I have no idea why we did that. I didn't even know Clara, really, as she was always so quiet. We bitched about her because bitching was just what we did by that point. Because we knew Yvonne didn't like Clara. Because we'd always heard Yvonne complain and make up shit about her...

I hate it that we did that. That I did that. I want to admit it to Clara and make amends, but I don't know how ... or if it'd even be a good idea. Still, I have to try.

'Clara? I have a confession to make.'

She looks up at me: still eating her yoghurt, spoon in mid-air. She looks surprised by my serious tone.

'Um ... I've been thinking a lot, lately, about how much it hurt to have stuff said behind my back. But I've also been thinking ... well, I've done that too, so am I really better than Jessie and Yvonne and Stephanie? Listen, I don't know if this is a totally terrible idea, or what, but I need to say it – I need to be honest with you. I used to bitch about you sometimes. I did it because Yvonne used to do it, then Jessie started to do it ... saying stuff about how weird it was that you were quiet, and there must be something wrong with you. But I realise now that I was so wrong and I should never have said any of it. I'm really sorry, Clara.'

'Oh!' She looks kind of startled. 'I understand! It's okay. The thing is ... I wasn't always nice about you either, Sophie,' she admits, staring down at the ground now. 'When the others first started calling you Sluttie Fitzmaurice – you know, whenever you were out of the room and stuff – I felt like I had to laugh along with them. There was always this fear in my head that if I didn't join in, Yvonne would say even worse stuff about me ... but now I know that she said that stuff about me anyway. It didn't matter.'

'I get that, Clara. I really do...'

'But when I saw those messages – the one in the group chat, you know, when Shaun was boasting about his date with you – I just ... I knew I couldn't let you go on the date. I was worried that something might happen. I don't know if it actually would have. It was probably all talk, you know?' She's nervously twisting her hair around her finger now, her brow furrowed. 'He was having a laugh, I guess. Just messing in front of his friends. But even if I was wrong, I worried that he might, like ... I don't know...'

Her voice trails off. She doesn't want to say it. I totally get that.

'Anyway, even if he didn't do anything, you still had a right to know what he was saying about you. What they were all saying. I'm just ... I'm so sorry I was ever a part of that.' She looks really upset now. 'If you don't want to hang out with me again, I understand that.'

I hug her. 'It's okay. I'm glad you told me. Thank you, Clara.'

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I wrote 750 words from midnight onwards.

I want to end this post by giving a shout out to everyone else who has signed up to the fit of absolute lunacy invigorating creative challenge that is #FreewriteMadness. 😇 Make sure you go and support their work too! I have limited voting power (damn my not-quite-plankton but not-quite-redfish status 😉), but will upvote as many posts as I can per day.

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