Episode 02| The 4-1-1

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Sophia's P.O.V.

The shopping trip wasn't as dreadful as I had feared. No one lost a limb, so that was a definite plus side to it. Nicolas tagged along, despite the deep-seated hate he had for shopping malls all over America. "This could've been a park," he said while strolling through the mall, pointing at random things and saying how it could've been a swing, a pond. The list went on for forever.

Brooklyn rolled her eyes as he went on and on about the inhumanity in our society and how humans ruined nature. We were inside of a clothing store now, searching through the different tops and skirts they had.

"Do you think this would look good on me?" Brooklyn asked, flatting a sheer white blouse against her chest. "It's cute."

"It's a little risky," I said with raised eyebrows. "You'd have to wear a tank-top underneath."

"I know. I'm going to, but do you think it'll look good with the white platforms I have? I want something that matches the shoes I got."

"It'll look nice." I nodded and handed her a long black skirt. "You could add this to the outfit."

Brooklyn titled her head, puzzled. "Are you blind? I wouldn't wear that unless I'm going to some funeral."

"Oh, uh—" I stammered, quickly I reached for the denim skirt I had seen earlier. I thought it was cute. "How about this?"

"That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen," she giggled, moving over to the next rack. "You can wear that if you want though. It goes with your style anyway."

Brooklyn walked to the other side of the store, looking at the dresses they had. Nicolas rested his hand on my shoulder. "I don't get how you haven't punched her yet."

"She's your cousin," I reminded him. "Don't say stuff like that."

"Yeah, and as her cousin I can say I'd punch her right in the nose if she talked to me like that," he said without a hint of regret in his tone.

"Nicolas, you know Brooklyn more than I do. She's always like this. It doesn't matter if we're fighting over what to watch or fighting over clothes, she finds humor in making fun of people." I shrugged and started to look through the rack of tops in front of me. "It's not something I should take to heart."

"But it is," he said. "You need to tell her."

I sighed deeply. "You're always telling what I need to do. That I need to tell Remy about how I feel. That I need to tell Brooklyn about what I think. Do you want to have my life?"

He paused to ponder on the thought. "Hmm, I think I could get more things in life if I had boobs. Free drinks, free food. Why not? Give me your life."

I suppressed a chuckle. "My life isn't full of free things. You think being a girl is easy."

"Yes, it is easy," he challenged. "Besides periods and pushing a baby through your cave, you have it made."

"Cave? It's not a cave," I chuckled uncontrollably.

"That's what I've always called them. The actual word is too clinical."

"How do you expect having a girlfriend if you—" I stopped myself, remembering that Nicolas wasn't going to have a girlfriend anytime soon. "Oh, right. I forgot."

After Nicolas had found out about Remy and I, I had felt drained once I answered his questions about us. He could visibly see how vulnerable I'd felt and he had revealed to me that the girl he always talks about named "Hannah" was actually named "Hank" and that he was his boyfriend. Brooklyn didn't know about it so we kept that secret between the two of us.

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