Red Days
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Sophie was sprawled on the couch back home, her face still in a slight grimace, when Chloe walked in, dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a light hoodie. 

“Hey, Soph! Thanks for the text--I was worried when you weren’t in class this morning. “First blood, huh? I was wondering when that would happen.”

“Hmmmph,” Sophie replied with mock petulance. Having to withstand the awkwardness of her mom explaining “feminine hygiene” was just adding insult to injury as far as she was concerned. 

“Yeah, that sounds about right for your first period,” Chloe replied with a slight smirk. “But hey, cheer up, I brought you some chocolate.” She offered several large, gourmet chocolate bars in Sophie’s direction. “Trust me, it’ll help.”

“Y’know, I always thought that was a myth.”

“Really?” Chloe replied, her eyebrow quirked.

“Yeah, I figured women just made it up as an excuse to be able to eat chocolate,” Sophie shrugged.

Chloe laughed.  “Oh, my dear girl, you have so much to learn. Seriously, have a bite, it’ll help.”

Sophie unwrapped one of the bars and did as instructed, savoring the rich, sweet-but-slightly-bitter taste. Perhaps it was just the placebo effect, but it did seem to make her feel better. Some of the discomfort that had been plaguing her for the last twenty-four hours or so eased and the chocolate seemed to take the edge off her irritability, as well.

It apparently made her visibly perkier, too, enough that Chloe commented, “See, I told you it would help.”

“Fine, fine,” Sophie admitted with feigned irritation.  “But seriously, this really did help. Thanks, Chloe, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Chloe beamed, “I mean, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t bring my girlfriend chocolate during her first period?”

Sophie felt her breath hitch, and her eyes widened. “Wait, since when have we been girlfriends?”

Chloe wrinkled her brow with concern. “I mean, since the fair. I thought you knew?” Her voice quieted. “I mean, unless you don’t want to be officially girlfriends, if you think we’re moving too fast or something, I totally understand, and--”

Her nervous assurances were interrupted when Sophie reached up and grabbed the collar of Chloe’s hoodie, and dragged her down for a kiss.

“Oh. Oh, I see,” Chloe said in a slight daze after they broke apart.

“Goober,” Sophie said with a grin. “Of course I want to be your girlfriend. But why didn’t you tell me we were officially dating sooner?”

“I thought it was obvious?” Chloe said with genuine amusement. “I mean, what we’ve been doing is pretty typical dating stuff.”

“Chloe, as you may have noticed, few things in my life have been ‘typical’ lately.”

“...touché.”

Sophie took another mouthful of chocolate. Chloe, kneeling next to the couch, began to gently stroke Sophie’s hair. Sophie felt tension she didn’t even know she had leaving her body as she enjoyed the sensation of Chloe’s hand on her head. She didn’t want this moment to end. Unfortunately, it did a moment later when her phone began to buzz.

She checked the message. “Huh. Heather S. is here.”

“Did you invite her over?” Chloe asked.

“No,” Sophie laughed, “they just show up.”

Sophie tapped out a reply. 

The door is unlocked. Come on in.

A moment later she heard the door open and Heather joined them in the living room. She rushed to Sophie’s side to give her a big hug. “Hey, girl, I heard you had a rough day.”

Sophie waved dismissively, “Eh, nothing that every other girl doesn’t deal with.” Heather S. plopped onto the couch at Sophie’s feet while Chloe leaned against the wall next to Sophie’s head.

“Cut the crap, Sophie, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone here,” Heather said with a soft smile. Sophie dropped her head back on her pillow.

“Okay, great, because UGH THIS SUCKS,” she groaned loudly. Chloe and Heather shared a look and began to laugh.

“Yep, that’s how it goes,” Chloe replied.

“What brings you to this, my house of blood, Heather?” Sophie asked as she sat up.

“Oh, well, Heather M. was wondering where you were today and I told her I’d come over. She’s busy making Heather K. clean her room. She says she’s supervising but honestly, Heather K. will do just about anything she asks--,” Heather S. paused and held her hands up. “Wait, no, off-topic, Heather,” she jokingly said to herself. “Did you bring her homework, Chloe?”

Chloe looked caught off guard. “Er, I brought the chocolate, I didn’t know I was supposed to bring any take-home tests.” Heather laughed and pulled her purse close before pulling out a few sheets of homework and handing them to Sophie.

“Here’s the chemistry homework and some stuff Heather M. got in your math class,” Heather said. 

Sophie groaned once more upon looking at the paperwork. “Couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow?” 

Heather S. shook her head.“You have a good GPA, and Heather M. doesn’t want you to squander it.”

Chloe turned her head. “Since when is she so interested in Sophie’s academics? She’s not exactly doing so hot in school herself.”

“What makes you say that?” Heather asked. Sophie frowned, it felt like a chill had run through the room.

“Well, just the fact that she doesn’t seem especially interested in turning in anything in any classes I’ve had with her,” Chloe answered sternly. Heather gave her a mirthful look and dug around in her bag before pulling out another sheet of paper.

“This is my math homework. I’m pretty good in geology, history, and a few other classes, but math is a consistent weak point for me.” She handed the sheet to Sophie. “Are all the answers on there right?” Sophie looked over the worksheet for a moment. 

“I mean, I haven’t finished this homework yet so it’s hard to say, but everything looks right at a glance. Why?”

“Because Heather M. did it. She’s always let me copy her math homework, even back in elementary school,” Heather S. continued. “She’s a lot smarter than she lets on, you know.” Sophie began to read through the worksheet more thoroughly for any sign of errors and didn’t find any. She found herself wondering if Heather was this smart, how come she’d never caught it? If she could work through this math without taking any notes in class, something even Sophie would struggle with, what else could she do?

“Okay, I guess it’s good that Heather M. cares about Sophie’s grades,” Chloe conceded, “but I’m kind of worried about some of the other stuff she’s been teaching her.”

Heather raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “Which stuff?”

“Like the shoes. Sophie said one of you told her that girls should wear heels as often as possible.”

Heather laughed. “Is that it? Sophie’s a shorty. She needs the heels to give her a little boost.”

“No, it’s not just that,” Chloe said, sounding a little uncertain now.

“Chloe, look, I get it. I understand what you’re feeling,” Heather tried to explain.

“You… do?” Chloe questioned, her voice beginning to gain some edge.

“Of course! Sophie spends so much time with us and her style is antithetical to your own that it would be only natural that it’d seem like we’re brainwashing her or something,” Heather continued. “If she doesn’t want to, Sophie doesn’t have to wear heels or anything.” She nudged Sophie lightly on the foot. “Even if she is a small-fry compared to the other girls in her class.” Sophie immediately blushed and stifled a giggle. Chloe looked between Heather and Sophie with a skeptical glance but didn’t reply.

“It’s not my fault that the Well interpreted my, er, vague ideas and thoughts into this itty-bitty body!” Sophie argued back, a smile betraying her tone. She couldn’t help but make it blindingly obvious that she relished any time a conversation turned to her girlhood. “I mean, heck, little Ashlin Delson bumped into me in the hallway yesterday and nearly knocked me over.”

Chloe and Heather smiled. It was a relief to have friends who didn’t mind that Sophie’s idea of girlhood was rather specific and enjoyed listening to her ramble on about the subject.

“Still, I think you could use a pair of sneakers,” Chloe chuckled. Heather huffed.

“Only the cute ones, color coordinating is important.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Come on Heather, just let her off the leash for a little while.” The two began to descend into a squabble again before Sophie’s father walked through the door with a couple of paper bags.

“Oh, hey girls. What’s going on?” he asked. Chloe and Heather looked at each other.

“Just a heated discussion,” Heather replied. Sophie’s father lugged the paper bags to the kitchen counter and placed his hands over his hips.

“Well Sophie had a hard day, so how about you two give her a little alone time, okay?”

Chloe looked as if she was about to protest, then decided against it. “Okay, you’re right. We’ll give her some peace and quiet. Sorry, Sophie.”

Chloe and Heather said their goodbyes and left Sophie with her father. When they were gone, her father knelt next to the couch.

“Listen, uh, I obviously can’t exactly relate to what you’re going through, but I know it’s a rough experience for girls, so I thought I’d get you something that might cheer you up.”

He reached into one of the paper bags and pulled out a fuzzy teddy bear. It was very much the typical kind you might find in any store, but as a gift from her father, it felt like a treasure. She took the bear and hugged it. It was remarkably soft, even for a teddy bear.

“Thank you so much, Dad. It’s so cute,” she said as a large smile lit up her face.

“I saw this guy in the store earlier and I remembered how happy you were when you showed off that frog Chloe won you.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah, my girlfriend got it for me, of course I loved it.”

Sophie’s father chuckled. “I seem to remember a little girl who tried so hard to win a stuffed lion at that very same fair about, oh, ten years ago?”

“Dad,” Sophie tried to interrupt but he was having none of it.

“And she cried so hard when her last balloon dart missed. How did you get that stuffed animal again?”

Sophie let out a large exaggerated sigh. “You won it.” Her dad puffed his blue gingham button-up’d chest out and stood up.

“That’s right, dear old Dad saved the day.” He began to walk towards the kitchen and looked back. “Want anything from the kitchen?”

“Chocolate milk, please,” Sophie said without hesitation. She knew that would do the trick in helping to quell her cramps. While her father stepped into the kitchen she began to think further about that stuffed lion. She’d called him Lebra and had kept him on her bed for several years, but she wasn’t exactly sure what had happened to him. 

After a moment she realized that she’d either thrown him out or given him away as she was getting older and her Dad had told her that men didn’t need stuffed animals on their bed. She loosened her grip on the bear Dad had given her somewhat, her mood becoming pensive. So that was really the only difference, then? Because she was a girl now, she was allowed to have comforts like stuffed animals? What if she’d never made the wish? Or what if she had decided she preferred being a boy? She couldn’t like stuffed animals, then? She was lucky that she had found the Well and that she preferred being a girl because she was quickly realizing that she would never have fit into her father’s expectations of what a man should be. She looked down at the bear sadly, it now serving as a bittersweet symbol of her father’s conditional kindness.

Her father returned balancing a slightly-too-full glass of chocolate milk and Sophie tried to distract herself by sipping it and savoring its sweet taste.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said.

“Of course,” he replied. “Listen, I know you’ve undergone a lot of change lately, now that you have these new friends and you’re starting to embrace your femininity, and then you have all this on top of everything…”

He hesitated.

“Embracing my femininity?” Sophie asked. She knew that nothing good could come from pressing this subject, but something compelled her to continue.

“Yeah. I don’t know if you ever noticed, but for some reason I’ve always been a little reluctant to let you do stuff like wear pink or shave your legs.” He paused, smiling slightly. “I don’t know. I guess it was some silly, misguided way to try to keep you from growing up.”

Sophie felt a stab of pain and frustration. Of course, it wasn’t really a way to keep her from growing up. It was a way to keep her from being herself.

Her dad continued. “But I have to say, it seems like you’re getting happier every day. Well, except for last Wednesday, of course.”

Sophie cocked her head. “Last Wednesday?”

“Yeah, I think it was last Wednesday. When you came home crying?”

Sophie searched her memory, but nothing came to her. Nothing had occurred last Wednesday or any time last week that would have made her cry. Was this another memory lapse? One she hadn’t even noticed? This would have been before the first one she had noticed, at the party. How many more had there been? How long had this been going on? Sophie could feel her heart starting to pound as she imagined all the things she might have forgotten, how many moments of her life might simply be gone without her even knowing. She could feel frustration starting to well up within her. It was hard enough realizing that her father didn’t understand her and now she had to deal with more memory losses? She should be frightened, but right now she found herself growing angry instead.

“Did I tell you why I was crying?” she asked tersely, struggling to keep her tone from becoming barbed.

Her father shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t tell us. Soph, are you feeling okay? You know you can talk to me anything.”

That was a lie. She couldn’t talk to him about pink clothes or shaved legs. She couldn’t talk about stuffed animals or toy ovens. She couldn’t talk about the time when she had wanted to check out a fantasy book from the library and he had told her no because it was about a princess. She couldn’t talk about how she was relieved that he wasn’t with her and her mother at that flea market when she had gotten her mermaid statue. She couldn’t tell him anything about who she really was or how she really felt and now he was only making it worse by making her feel yet again as if something was wrong with her as he had all that time ago.

She couldn’t stand to look at her father right now. She sprang to her feet and ran from the room, ignoring his perplexed protests. Since she was squinting her eyes to keep herself from crying she nearly ran into her mother in the hall, staring at an old photo hanging on the wall. It was a photo of Sophie from around two or three years ago, standing in the living room dressed up in a suit and tie for some distant cousin’s wedding. Her mom was frowning at the photo, her brow furrowed.

“Is that really you?” her mother asked, sounding dazed. “When did you look like that?”

Sophie froze, forgetting all about her father for a moment. She felt a stab of panic, if her mother remembered what she used to look like would the wish be undone? Irritability quickly replaced the panic as she began to silently fume regarding how many headaches they’d given her that day. She caught herself as she started to say something rude in reply. Her mother didn’t deserve that. Not really. Chloe had often groaned about period irritability, was that what this was? 

“Yeah, I’ve really changed a lot, huh?” she said, trying and failing to keep her tone casual and restrained.

Her mother looked at her and then back at the photo. “You look so tall in this photo. Look, you’re almost as tall as the lamp in our living room, but the other day you had to reach to turn it on.”

“That’s probably just an optical illusion, mom,” Sophie replied hastily. “I bet I’m not standing as close to the lamp as it looks. It’s forced perspective, you know? Like Lord of the Rings?”

“Maybe,” her mom said doubtfully. “But that suit. I remember we made you wear that suit. You complained the whole time about how uncomfortable it was. Why would we make you wear a suit? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah, it’s weird, but I’m sure it seemed like a good idea at the time. Uh, don’t worry about it too much, okay? I’m sure it’s nothing.” Sophie wandered into her room and gently shut the door. She tossed the stuffed animal onto her bed and flopped down onto the mattress and sighed. Poppy. That’s what she’d call it, she decided. She moved it next to the frog Chloe had won her, French-Fry as Sophie had named him, and scooted up to the headboard of the bed before pulling out a small tennis ball from her bedside drawer. She closed her eyes and leaned back as she tossed the ball directly above, the pinpricks on the back of her neck alerting her to every possible catch, allowing her to essentially play catch with herself while her mind was otherwise occupied. She took a deep breath to allow her emotions to melt away for a reprieve.

Why were these memory blanks happening more frequently? They had started just after she’d begun to see those weird animals in the forest and at the fair, were they related to all of this? She wasn’t sure, all she had was a hunch. After a few more minutes relaxing she pulled her phone out and began to scour the internet for any mention of creatures like this. Surely she couldn’t be the first person to encounter them.

She’d expected the search to turn up many ambiguous results, but even she was surprised by the sheer variety of options that turned up. Pookas, kelpies, barghests, the list went on and on of different creatures she could be seeing. After spending an hour looking without any real breakthroughs, she put her phone down and rubbed at her temples. 

“I’m getting nowhere slowly,” she sighed. She tried to recall what her mother had said about her grandmother’s ability, wishing she’d asked more questions about it in the past. She’d see her grandmother in a few weeks at Thanksgiving, and she resolved to ask her about the beings then. A glance at the watch Heather M. had given her alerted her to the fact that it was barely even late afternoon. She looked around for something to do and, upon coming up with nothing new, her eyes settled on her ajar closet door. 

“Guess I’ll play dress up, again,” she smiled mischievously.

 

* * *

 

The following day, Sophie returned to school, and life, occasional cramps aside, returned to normal. School passed in a bit of a blur, as her thoughts kept drifting to the unanswered questions plaguing her. Why was she having lapses in her memory? She had no recollection whatsoever of being in a bad mood the previous week and yet, if her father was to be believed, clearly she had been. And speaking of memories, what was she going to do about her old photos?  

With all this in mind, Sophie once again asked Heather M. to take her to the Well. She expected Heather to be annoyed again, but instead she replied with a pleased smile and a friendly “Of course, Sophie.” Heather M. maintained this attitude during the trip through the woods and down the Well. The trip itself was quiet, Sophie mumbling something about not feeling too talkative due to period cramps, while Heather S. made small talk about an upcoming student government meeting. 

Heather K. must have noticed Sophie’s somber expression and quietly nudged her while the other two began to get lost in a heated discussion over makeup pallets.

“You okay?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Sophie replied, trying to mask her mood. In the heat of missing your memory and still having a persisting clawing in her abdomen, she decidedly wasn’t okay. Heather K. looked her up and down and nodded.

“I was wondering when it would happen,” she remarked. Anticipating Sophie’s stammered attempts at modesty, she turned towards the two upfront. “They told me.” Sophie pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Of course they did,” she sighed. Heather K. began to giggle softly. “What?”

She pointed at Sophie. “It’s just, you’re pinching your nose like Heather M. does.”

“So?” Sophie replied sharply, her attempts at hiding her mounting frustration beginning to fail.

“You’re becoming more and more like us, or like her, every day,” she smiled. Sophie frowned as she considered the other girl’s apparent elation at herself picking up habits from the others. 

“Shut up, Heather,” She grumbled and picked up her pace.

Upon arriving at the central pool of the Well, Sophie stood and hesitated before making her wish--if she followed through on this, she’d be erasing part of her history in a very real way. While she was vastly happier as Sophie, being Thomas hadn’t been constant misery no matter what the Heathers said, and had undoubtedly paved the way for her to become who she was today. Still, she hated to see her parents confused and distressed--perhaps it was for the best for everyone that Thomas be forgotten.

Finally, after a little more deliberation, she tossed the coin into the pool, saying, “I wish that all existing photographs of me depicted me as Sophie instead of Thomas.”  Like most of the wishes she’d made, the immediate effects were anticlimactic--the coin dropped into the pool with a ka-plunk, making little ripples in the surface of the water, but otherwise the pool and the cave remained unchanged.  Sophie figured she’d check the photos when she got home, just to make sure it had worked. 

While watching Heather K. trudge out to retrieve the coin from the pool, Sophie noticed a scrap of paper not too far from the shore. Odd, she thought, they usually keep this place so clean. Her curiosity piqued, and the other Heathers too distracted by their own conversation to notice, she picked it up and examined it.

Her blood froze.

It was part of an old receipt, one that had been used as scratch paper, though whatever note that was on it had been largely torn away.  All that was left was a single word, in handwriting that looked eerily familiar.

It simply said, REMEMBER

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