Violet could feel Sofia's presence beside her and it was unnerving. Sofia's breath, her chest rising and falling, the flutter of her eyes as she inhaled, her pen tapping against the table, her eyes looking around the classroom.

She wasn't a shadow or a fictional character or a hologram. No, Sofia was a person, her head full of thoughts, her heart full of emotion, just like Violet. Nothing was different about them, but yet, everything was different.

She was Violet Choudhary and Sofia Walters was Sofia Walters. Violet sighed lightly, taking pleasure in the brief moment of relaxation she got.

Violet looked up as Mr. Montana started to speak.

"So, since all of you know the topic for the activity," Violet didn't. She hoped Sofia had been listening, "I'm just going to give you a run-down of everything I expect."

Mr. Montana pointed to the board. 

PowerPoint presentation along with a verbal presentation. Submission date: next Monday

Violet stiffened, knowing she would be forced to spend more time with Sofia. It wasn't that she hated the girl, but she was a shadow, someone who simply slipped through the halls and Sofia was Sofia.

She was expected to mingle and talk and laugh while Violet wasn't.

As Mr. Montana told the class to start to discuss the topic with their partners, Sofia turned to Violet, smiling kindly.

"So, when do you think we can work on this?"

"Tomorrow?" Violet suggested, tapping her pen lightly on the table.

"I can't, sorry Violet. I have volleyball practice tomorrow. What about tonight?"

Violet shrugged, it didn't really matter to her. "Sure."

"Should we go to yours or―"

Violet tensed up and shook her head. She hated people coming over. Her apartment building was in one of the most run-down places in town. It was the only thing she could afford with her one job. And she didn't want Sofia of all people to be there, not when Sofia herself probably lived in some high-end house. "No, mine isn't okay. Sorry."

"Ok," Sofia said simply. She noticed that Violet had tensed up and didn't want to press the matter more.

"Could we go to yours instead?"

Now Sofia hesitated. People were over at her house all the time, so it wasn't that there was nothing stopping her from taking Violet there. But her mother... What if she said something to Violet? Sofia composed herself ― nothing would happen. 

She nodded, "Sure, Violet."

"Thank you," Violet said, her voice soft and full of sincerity. It was the first time Sofia had heard such tenderness in her words. 

Sofia smiled, "Meet me by the gate once school is over?"

Violet nodded.

"How long is it to your place?"

"Just ten minutes, Violet."

"You have a car?"

Sofia nodded, "Yeah."

Sofia led the way to her light pink Volkswagen Beetle. Violet froze in shock ― it was ― "Wow."

Sofia chuckled, "Sorry if it's somewhat over the top. My dad got it for me," she then added with a laugh, "And even though I don't like pink, it's a cool car."

Violet nodded and slid inside the car as Sofia too took the driver's seat.

As the car revved to life and Sofia pulled out of the school parking lot, Violet glanced out of the window and then looked at Sofia.

The girl was wearing a denim skirt which showed off her legs, a white blouse and scuffed tan boots. Her blonde waves were tied up in a ponytail and Violet thought that she looked put together and almost like a princess. While Violet, in her tattered faded jeans and black button-up shirt she'd simply thrown on, looked more like ― well, she didn't exactly look like a princess.

It didn't take long to reach Sofia's house. It was, for lack of a better word, big, Violet thought. It was a three-story modern home with a large garden in the front of it and a grand gate. As Sofia grabbed her key from her purse and unlocked the gate, she hoped that her mom wasn't home. She didn't want Violet to face any retribution for not being rich or popular or something like that.

Violet was sure what the inside of the house would look like. Sleek, elegant, ordered — and that was exactly what it was. The living room was designed with a color scheme in mind. Grey, white and pops of green here and there. 

There was an extravagant sofa, a large television, a rug which looked to be expensive and even though Violet hadn't seen the rest of the house yet, she already knew that in comparison to her shabby, old one bedroom apartment, this house was a mansion.

"Sofia, sweetie? Is that you?" Mrs. Walters called from another room in the humongous house.

"Yes, mother," Sofia called back, taking Violet's wrist to try to take her upstairs before her mother walked in.

Violet snatched her hand away quickly, rubbing her wrist while trying to hide her pained expression. 

"Don't," she whispered. 

Sofia narrowed her eyes in confusion. She would get a headache if she tried to solve that complicated equation that was Violet's life all in one day.

"Sorry, Violet," she whispered back, gesturing to the girl to follow her upstairs.

But before the two could make it to the stairwell, Mrs. Walters emerged from the kitchen.

Sofia whipped around, smiling as quietly gestured to Violet to turn around as well.

Mrs. Walters looked much like Sofia. They both had the same golden hair and brown eyes and while Sofia's eyes were kind and soft, Mrs. Walters' eyes were fake. Violet just knew it. The gleam in them wasn't from courtesy or anything like that, no, it was judging and harsh. But Mrs. Walters' smile hid it. But not to Violet, she was observant and she knew.

"So, who is this Sofia, dear?"

That question was all it took for Sofia to hesitate. What was she supposed to say?

"No one, mom," Sofia smiled. "Just a partner for an activity!"

Sofia hoped her voice didn't crack.

Violet was looking at Mrs. Walters with an expression one could only call observing. And that was exactly what Violet was doing. She was observing what Mrs. Walters was saying. She was observing the way Mrs. Walter's eyes were scanning her. "Ah," Sofia's mother said. "Well, what's your name dear?"

Violet was horrible at talking to people. As Oscar would say, she had to work on her people skills. So she waved. And held her breath, hoping she could get a sentence out without stuttering.

"Violet Choudhary."

Mrs. Walters raised an eyebrow. Perhaps it was at Violet's last name which was surely foreign. But Linda had already gathered that Violet was not from around here. Her skin and mannerisms said otherwise.

Mrs. Walters put on a smile. 

This time, Violet and Sofia both knew it was fake.

"Well," Linda said, "that's nice. Why don't you two hurry along so you can finish your activity? There are snacks in the kitchen if Violet wants something."

Mrs. Walters had two motives. Sofia couldn't decide which. Either she wanted Violet to stay so her mother could show off how rich and posh they were, or she wanted Violet out of the house. But whatever it was, Sofia's mother had worded her statement in such a twisted way. It wasn't Sofia who could have snacks, no, it was only Violet. And for that, Sofia almost despised her mother.

She smiled and nodded, taking Violet's hand, making sure not to touch her wrist, and walked upstairs.