Sophie and Jake (Passports and Promises) Read online

  Sophie and Jake

  Abigail Drake

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author. If you purchase this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book may have been stolen property and reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher. In such case, the author has not received any payment for this “stripped” book.

  Copyright © 2018 by Abigail Drake

  ISBN (ebook): 978-0-9978243-8-4

  (print): 978-0-9978243-9-1

  Pennrose Press, P.O. Box 135, Beaver, PA 15009

  Edited By Lara Parker

  Cover Art by Eva Talia

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For my sister, Jennifer, who came to visit me in Japan and didn’t get upset when she was forced to sing the cherry blossom song over and over and over again. Love you!

  Contents

  Untitled

  1. ~Sophie~

  2. ~Jake~

  3. ~Sophie~

  4. ~Jake~

  5. ~Sophie~

  6. ~Jake~

  7. ~Sophie~

  8. ~Jake~

  9. ~Sophie~

  10. ~Jake~

  11. ~Sophie~

  12. ~Jake~

  13. ~Sophie~

  14. ~Jake~

  15. ~Sophie~

  16. ~Jake~

  17. ~Sophie~

  18. ~Jake~

  19. ~Sophie~

  20. ~Jake~

  21. ~Sophie~

  22. ~Jake~

  23. ~Sophie~

  24. ~Jake~

  25. ~Sophie~

  26. ~Jake~

  27. ~Sophie~

  28. ~Jake~

  29. ~Sophie~

  30. ~Jake~

  31. ~Sophie~

  About the Author

  Also by Abigail Drake

  Side Trips:

  Book One

  Sophie and Jake

  The Passports and Promises Series

  Chapter 1

  ~Sophie~

  Hi. You don’t know me, but I thought maybe we could be friends. If you don’t want to, I totally understand. Talk to you soon…hopefully.

  Sophie Barnes

  I hit send and immediately wished I hadn’t. “Lame, lame, lame,” I muttered to myself. “Why did I do that?”

  I knew why. After stalking Jake Hunter on social media for weeks, I’d finally taken the plunge. He was the brother of my sister’s ex, and their breakup had been kind of ugly.

  What possessed me to contact him? Definitely my worst move ever. But, like jumping into a pool of icy water, I realized I made a bad decision about a second too late to change it.

  Yes, I was a total idiot.

  Why couldn’t the great minds of Facebook come up with an instant regret button for messenger? Was it really that complicated? If only I could delete what I’d just written. I’d do it in a hot second. Delete, delete, delete.

  Ugh. What a disaster.

  I put my face in my hands and groaned, not wanting to look at the screen of my phone another minute. Then I heard it. The small chime indicating an incoming message.

  “Please be him,” I said softly.

  I peeked between my fingers and let out a little squeal. Jake had messaged me back.

  Hey. Thanks for reaching out. I thought about sending you a friend request, too, but wondered if that might be a little weird.

  “Oh, it is weird,” I said. “And so is having a crush on a guy you’ve never met.”

  I nibbled on my lower lip, wondering what to say next. First impressions were so important. I needed to make a good one.

  Ha, ha. I know, right?

  Oh, dear God. Why did I say that? I needed to say more. What an awful start. Think, think, think…

  No time to think. I had to type. Now. Why was this so difficult? I went with the most generic thing I could come up with, and sent it before I messed this up completely.

  I’ve heard a lot about you from my sister.

  Okay. That sounded fairly normal. I relaxed a bit. I could handle this. I just needed to focus and think of something else to say.

  And I know your brother. How’s he doing?

  I sent it and instantly wondered if I shouldn’t have done that. Ugh. Too much too soon?

  His brother was currently in a mental hospital after suffering a nervous breakdown. Not a light topic of conversation. To make matters worse, this breakdown occurred right after he ended his relationship with my sister, Samantha. And when Sam found him, nearly catatonic in his apartment, she came close to having a breakdown herself.

  Not a great way to end their relationship. Not a great way to begin ours. I debated again about whether or not I should have contacted Jake, but as soon as he answered, it dispelled any remained doubts.

  He’s pretty much the same. It’s been…rough. Thanksgiving will be a nightmare this year. I’ll be glad when the whole holiday season is over. There was a pause, and another message. What’s your favorite kind of pie?

  I smiled. Easy question. Pumpkin, of course. I’m so basic. What about you?

  He replied without hesitation. Pumpkin. I’m basic, too.

  Chapter 2

  ~Jake~

  What do you mean you were messaging all night with Dylan’s girlfriend’s sister?” My best friend Tyler stared at me, incredulous, and I couldn’t blame him. It did sound kind of strange.

  “Ex-girlfriend,” I said. “They broke up on Halloween.”

  “Three weeks ago? Wait, did you make the first move, or did she?”

  For some reason, I didn’t want to answer that. Ty would call me a “player,” slap me on the back, and turn it all into a joke. But it wasn’t a joke. Not to me at least. Last night, messaging back and forth with Sophie about stupid stuff, had been the first time in days I’d felt…at peace.

  “It’s not like that. We’re friends.”

  I slammed my locker harder than I intended and Ty looked surprised. Of course, he had no idea about the stress I’d been under lately, trying to act normal while my brother fought for his life, locked away in that small quiet room at the hospital. I hadn’t told anyone, not even my best friend. I couldn’t deal with it.

  “That’s cool, Jake. Sorry. I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”

  I shot him a smile, trying to get things back to normal. “It’s fine. I’m just pumped for the game.”

  Our soccer team had made it to the final round of the state playoffs, and we played tomorrow. The last game of my senior year.

  Ty seemed to read my thoughts. “I can’t believe you aren’t going to play in college. What a waste, man.”

  I shrugged. “My dad said if I played a sport in college, I’d have to choose between playing the sport and getting good grades or playing the sport and having a social life. I don’t want to make that choice. I like soccer, but I like girls more. A lot more.”

  He laughed. “I bet your dad is psyched about the game.”

  I didn’t answer. Dad most likely didn’t even realize the game was scheduled for tomorrow. He was so wrapped up with Dylan’s problems at the moment, and I didn’t blame him. My mom was even worse. Last night, she apologized for not doing my wash.

  “I’m eighteen, Mom. I’ve got this.”

  She’d touched my face with her hand. She looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes and a pallor
to her skin that worried me. “But I want to do it for you. I hate leaving you on your own like this.”

  “I’m fine. Really. Go get some rest,” I said.

  She shook her head. “No, I can’t. I’m heading back to the hospital. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I kissed her cheek. “Yes. Definitely. Tell Dylan I love him.”

  “I will.”

  I thought about her as I rode on the noisy bus to the game. Rap music blared, and the whole team was excited and happy and unaware of the fact my mind was somewhere else. I put on my headphones, planning to close my eyes and shut it all out, when I got a message from Sophie.

  Cauliflower is definitely the most disgusting vegetable known to man. I mean, why do people even eat it? Who discovered it? I can imagine it happening. Someone was walking along, and said, ‘Hey, that thing looks like a big, white brain. Let’s eat it.’ I mean, wth?

  I smiled. What brought this on?

  Planning Thanksgiving dinner. I have to help my mom. We’re locked in a heated battle at the moment regarding cruciferous vegetables. I’m rooting for broccoli to win. I’d rather eat something that looks like little trees than something that looks like a brain. Are you on the way to your game?

  Yep. I replied. If we win tonight, we’ll be state champs.

  I wish I could be there.

  Me, too.

  Go sports! she said and sent me a string of soccer ball emojis followed by several GIFs of possibly the worst soccer players I’d ever seen. I couldn’t stop laughing.

  Where did you find those?

  I have my sources. There was a pause. Will your parents be there tonight?

  I bit my lip, staring out the window into the cold night. I don’t know. They’re dealing with a lot right now. I don’t expect them to come. It seems pretty unimportant, when you consider what’s happening to Dylan.

  It’s important to you, but I understand what you mean. Good luck tonight. Don’t break anything, okay? I’ll be with you in spirit.

  She sent me a GIF of a cheerleader doing a flip and landing on her face. I covered my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

  That is ridiculous.

  Do soccer teams have cheerleaders? she asked. Wait. No. That’s football. Good.

  Why is that good?

  There was a long pause. IDK. Just…because.

  Was she insinuating she didn’t want me to look at other girls? Hmmm. Interesting. Maybe you can be the first ever soccer cheerleader.

  Ha! Not likely. I’m extremely uncoordinated. I trip over nothing and I once injured myself taking a nap. Who does that?

  Uh, no one. You have serious skills.

  And what would I cheer? Go team? Kick those balls? Score that thing….wait. Is it a goal or a basket?

  Dear God…

  It’s a goal. I know it’s a goal. But it has a net, so it’s kind of like a basket.

  I shook my head. You need to watch a soccer game sometime. Seriously.

  I’m going to watch one tonight. Your game is being televised. Did you know that? I’ll get to see you in your shorty shorts doing your thang.

  For some reason the idea that Sophie would be watching made it so much better. You’re awesome. Do you know that?

  Yep. I’ve been told that before. It’s actually my middle name. I’m Sophie Awesome-sauce Barnes.

  I grinned. Okay, Awesome-sauce. When we win tonight, I’m going to look right at the camera and I’ll be thinking of you. And, if you’re watching, and thinking of me, it’ll be almost like you’re right there with me.

  She sent me a GIF of a row of hearts, followed by one of a drag queen blowing a kiss, followed by one with the words, “Good Luck, Mr. Winner.”

  You are the queen of GIFs, aren’t you?

  I am. I’ll be watching. And I know you’ll win. Because you’re awesome-sauce, too.

  She was right. We did win. And the whole time I played, with the frosty November air biting my skin, I thought of her. As hokey as it sounds, I didn’t even feel the cold. We won 2-0, against the top team in the state, and I scored both of the goals.

  For the first time in a week, I didn’t think of Dylan or what might happen to him. I thought of Sophie.

  When the buzzer rang, and the game ended, my team charged onto the field, surrounding me. I ran to the sidelines, to the man holding the TV camera, and grinned. Without even thinking, I pointed at the camera.

  “This is for you, Sophie.”

  The team was yelling and carrying on behind me, so I doubted she heard my words, but I knew she was watching, and I knew she could read my lips.

  After we came out of the locker room, to my surprise, my dad stood there waiting for me. He gathered me in a huge hug. “So proud of you, Jake.”

  I hugged him back, close to tears. “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it. I didn’t expect you to come.”

  “Of course, I came,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. But we had to divide and conquer. Your mom stayed with your brother tonight. I called her a few minutes ago. She’s over the moon for you, buddy.”

  My friends piled onto the bus, but I didn’t want to leave my dad. He’d always been huge, larger than life, a former college football player and a giant of a man. But he looked older and frailer to me all of a sudden, like the weight of Dylan’s illness was almost too much for even his broad shoulders to bear.

  “Why don’t I go home with you?” I asked. “I’ll let coach know.”

  I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm. “No, Jake. Don’t worry about me. Enjoy this time with your friends. It’s your moment. You earned it. And I have to go straight to the hospital anyway. I want to give your mom a break. She hasn’t been sleeping well. You know how it is.”

  I hugged him again around the neck, my love for him fierce and pure and strong. “Thank you, Dad. I’ll see you when you get home.”

  I boarded the bus to the claps and cheers of my teammates. I waved my arms, grinning from ear to ear, but my eyes were on my dad as he stood all alone in the parking lot and watched the bus roll away.

  As soon as I settled in my seat, I pulled out my phone. Sophie had sent a GIF of fireworks with the words “Congratulations” superimposed on them and a woman hula dancing.

  You won! she said. Holy, cow. You scored like all the goals. You’re good, mister.

  Thanks. And did you get my message?

  I did. That was super cool, Jake. Do you know what else was cool?

  No. What?

  I had no idea what she might say next, and that made her so much more interesting than any girl I’d ever met.

  Those shorts. She sent me a GIF showing a flame, and one of an older, sweaty woman fanning herself vigorously. Actually, they weren’t cool. They were hottttttt.

  Chapter 3

  ~Sophie~

  Over the next few days, Jake and I messaged back and forth continuously. I wanted to learn all I could about him, and my feelings went from mild crush to all out obsession. Especially after I watched him play soccer.

  It was the first time I’d been able to watch an athletic event from beginning to end without falling asleep in the middle. I recorded it and watched it over and over again, freezing the parts when I could clearly see his face. I also spent a lot of time looking at his body, too. Tall, lean, and muscular, he had the most gorgeous legs, and his butt…well, it was phenomenal. But everything about him was phenomenal. And perfect. And hot.

  “Can you be in love with someone you’ve never met?” I asked my best friend, Emily, a few days before Thanksgiving break. We were supposedly studying for our English midterm, but I spent most of my time messaging Jake.

  “Of course, you can,” she said. “It happened to me with Ron.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Ron Weasley is a fictional character. Jake is a real person.”

  “The only difference between my relationship with Ron, and yours with Jake is Jake texts you back. Otherwise, it’s pretty much the same, Soph. All in your
head.”

  I frowned at her. “No, it isn’t. Jake and I have something. I feel it.”

  Emily gave me a serious look from her perch on the window seat in my room. “What do you feel exactly? Most of what you know about him is what he wants you to know. The good stuff, not the bad. And the rest is what you filled in with your own imagination. I think if you ever met him in person, you’d be seriously disappointed.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  The thought made me more nervous than I cared to admit. What if I was wrong about Jake? What if he weren’t as incredible as I thought?

  I remembered the look on his face when he’d won the soccer game, the way he’d said those words right to me.

  This is for you, Sophie.

  I’d been so happy I felt like I might burst. I watched it over and over again to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood, and I hadn’t. I wasn’t wrong about Jake. I knew it.

  “I plan to meet him. Eventually.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “Chicken. At least Skype him or something. Take baby steps.”

  “Skype?” No, I was not ready to Skype. Not by a long shot. I might say or do something stupid and totally turn him off. “Or maybe we can just talk.”

  She shrugged. “Whatever. But, if you want my advice, I say you should enjoy your senior year. He lives like two hours away. What’s the point?”