Just Words

She closed the door and turned her music up, but it was of no use; Sophie
could still hear her parents fighting in the other room. Things had been like this for
months. The night before, she had found out that they were getting a divorce. A
small tear slip from her eye, as she remembered the scene.
“Sophie, can you come out here, please?” her dad had said, standing in her
doorway. Together they walked into the living room, and her father gestured for her
to sit in a recliner while he sat across from her on an end of the couch, a noticeable
distance away from her mother. The two adults had looked between each other, as
if deciding who would speak first. Finally, Sophie’s mother spoke up.
“Sweetie,” she had said in a careful tone, “I’m sure you’ve noticed that your
father and I have been fighting a bit lately.” Sophie nodded, anticipating the next
words.

As Sophie had expected, the next words spoken were from her father. “Your
mother and I,” he said, “we’re getting a divorce. I’m sorry that we’re doing this to
you, but it just isn’t working.”
She remembered herself nodding, standing, and walking calmly to her
bedroom. It was then that she felt she could show emotion, but she didn’t feel like
crying.
She wasn’t sure how to feel about it. If she was being honest with herself, she
had seen it coming. All they ever did was fight, and that was on the now-rare
occasion that the two were actually home at the same time. Her dad had been
picking up extra hours at the office and her mom seemed to go out with her friends
more and more often. Sophie’s parents had been fighting for months and it seemed
that the only time since the family’s move that they had gotten along was when
they told Sophie of their divorce.

Sophie spent a lot of time by herself at home, or else out with people she
didn’t particularly like. Her family had moved to the town four months previously,
and she didn’t have any close friends there. There was a group of six other girls
from her school that she spent her time with, but no one that she could talk to if
something was bothering her. The group was fun to waste time with on shopping
trips and at movies, but she knew the friendships were shallow.
Once she had gone shopping with part of the group and they spent the whole
time gossiping.

When they picked her up, one of them, whose name she didn't remember
because they all blurred together, had greeted her with, "Hey, Sophie! How are you
doing?"

It had been the day after her parents informed her of the divorce, and she
found herself hoping to talk about it with her friends. She answered with, "I'm...
well, I think I'm okay, but-" before being interrupted by another girl with gossip.
She had said something like, "Did you hear that Rachel's dad moved out of
their house? She told me last night. He has another girlfriend. Can you believe it?
I’m so glad my family isn’t messed up like that."

And as Sophie remembered that Rachel was one of the girls in the group that
wasn't shopping that day, she decided she couldn't let them in on her personal life.
Teenage girls were brutal.

There was also the quiet boy in her science class. He was her lab partner and,
though he didn’t speak often, he was very nice and she could see herself
befriending him, if only he would speak more.

One day, after walking into class and yet again being greeted with a simple
nod, Sophie decided to talk to him.

She started simply, "Hey, how are you?" He muttered a simple "I'm doing
well."

So she tried again, not totally satisfied, "Why don't you speak very much?"
He smiled, "I don't feel I should speak unless I have something of importance
to say. I don't like to fill the air with thoughtless things and I don't want a friendship
that is just words. I like substance."

She stared at him for a moment, taking it in. It made sense to her, but she
thought it was an odd thing for a person her age to say. He seemed mature for a
teenager still in high school, and she appreciated it, with her parents acting
immature as well. She began to realize that her friendships were just words, too,
and now that bugged her.

A month later, Sophie was living in a new house with only her mother. Her
father had moved out of the old house, but Sophie’s mother insisted that they
couldn’t stay there, because she “needed a fresh start.” The town was still new to
Sophie, and she was finally becoming comfortable in that house. Despite that, she
knew she would have to move if that was what her dear mother wanted.
Other than her living arrangements, not a lot had changed in Sophie’s life.
She had somewhat limited her time with the group of friends, because she found
that the shallow conversations irritated her. Why did they talk so much? It wasn’t
like they really said anything. They all just spoke to fill the air and Sophie found that
this annoyed her. Maybe she was becoming like the boy from her science class.
She had actually had a few conversations with him. Around the time that she
learned she would be moving, he could tell she was upset and asked her if she was
okay. For some reason, Sophie just knew that he would listen, that his response
would have meaning, and that she wouldn’t be judged.

With a sigh, she began telling him of what happened. “Well, a-a few weeks
ago, about a month, my parents told me that they’re getting a divorce I mean, I
guess I saw it coming, or at least I should have because they started fighting around
the time we decided to move here and they... they never stopped fighting, then
they started doing things to avoid coming home and seeing each other. It’s just
hard. And we’re moving, my mother and I, that is. My dad moved out already, he
said he couldn’t live there, with her anymore. I-I’m just becoming comfortable in the
house, though. I mean, this town is still new to me and I’m not really comfortable
anywhere else. Like with my friends, I mean, I don’t even know anything about
them. Other than the gossipy things the other girls say about them when one is
gone. Who knows what they say about me? Not that it matters, I mean they’re just
teenage girls and we’re in high school so it won’t even be remotely important what
they say, in a couple of years. I just, I don’t know, it feels like things are feeling
apart, and it... it’s all just words. They don’t say anything worth hearing and my
parents don’t either. They’re always apologizing for ‘what happened,’ and they
won’t even call it what it is, a divorce, break, separation... See? I just named three.
They can’t even use one word for it. Can’t they at least admit what’s going on or
something? I’m sorry for rambling; I guess I just had to get that out.”

When she reached the end, he said, “Don’t be sorry, I understand. And it’s
okay, Sophie; these things are a part of life. There are worse things happening,
you’ll be fine.”

At first she thought his words were harsh, but the more she thought about it,
she found comfort in the words. The situation wasn’t as bad as it felt to her. She
would get through it and it wouldn’t have much effect in the long run. The next day
she thanked him and he just shrugged. He didn’t talk to her that day.

The boy was confusing to her, but she began to understand why he didn’t
talk. She realized how pointless most conversations were and how they had no
substance to them. She was thinking that perhaps she could become close friends
with him and they could talk about things that mattered, rather than plans for the
weekend and who was dating who. But most days he didn’t talk to her and she was
losing hope. She couldn’t be friends with someone that ignored her four out of five
days, could she?

She walked into class one day, nodding at him as she sat down, as that had
become their routine. He turned to her that day and spoke for the first time in a
week.

“Sophie, do you want to do something after school? We could go to my house
or somewhere. I feel like you need to get away for a bit.”

The boy was right. Most days when she came home, she found her mother
either drinking and sulking or with a man Sophie had never seen or heard about.
While she knew her mother was just having trouble coping with the end of her
marriage, it hurt Sophie to watch her mother in such a devastated state. She

couldn’t help, though. Her mother would not talk to her about her problems or seek
any sort of help; she saw her daughter as a child still. Sophie wasn’t sure how she
would help if her mother were to talk to her, but she knew she would do something,
help her in some way. She was mature for her age.

But her mother refused to seek help from the teenager, and so home, if she
could call it that, was not a place in which Sophie wanted to be. It was for that
reason, as well as her growing curiosity about the boy, that she agreed and found
herself at his house. They sat for hours, talking about everything they found
important. It wasn’t focused only on her family problems, either, which made her
feel better. They talked about their futures, the boy’s life, their beliefs, and
interests. Sophie loved it not only because he seemed to understand her, but
because all of the things they said had meaning, importance. None of it was just
words. All of their conversations made her think and they made her feel like her
words were worth something.

After the afternoon with the boy, she found herself living more in her mind,
pondering things that she found relevant to herself or her life, rather than filling her
head with idle conversation as she had done with the group of friends.
One thing she found herself thinking about was her parents’ divorce. To avoid
feeling it, Sophie had tried to brush off the subject, pretending it didn’t matter much
to her. But while it wouldn’t matter so much in the future, as lots of successful
people came from single parent households; she knew it was important now,
relevant to her life at that point in time. She wondered why it happened, if her
parents had ever loved each other, and whether love was real.

After a conversation with the boy, she decided that love could be real and
that her parents were fooled by words. It was so simple, she knew, to be fooled by
such. But she was beginning to realize how shallow so many things were, how
everything in high school, it seemed, was just words. Nothing really had substance.
Sophie decided that she would not end up like her parents, not fall into false
love or false friendships. She vowed never to be fooled by just words.