Well she really screwed everything up now. Now Keefe thought she hated him, now he was never going to talk to her again.

Great.

Sophie furiously wiped her tears away, but unfortunately for her, she had an infinite supply.

"Stupid gosh darnit tears!" She muttered as they trailed down her face, no doubt ruining the minimal amount of makeup she had applied that morning. Sophie didn't believe in using makeup to change herself, but she didn't mind using it to enhance her dull features. She had actually thought she looked pretty that morning. Of course, that was after she covered the dark spots under her eyes.

Sophie and all of her friends had applied to the same college, they also all had fall backs, but they assumed they would all get in. And they almost all did. For some stupid reason, they all got in but Sophie. And she truthfully didn't understand why. Her resume was far more impressive than Dex's and Biana's, she had better grades, she'd done highly advanced extra curricular activities, she'd even been adopted after her parents unfortunate death and still thrived in education. Didn't that say something?

Apparently not. Or maybe it did. Maybe it showed that she wasn't good at anything but school. That was boring, she already knew that. Sophie wasn't special, she wasn't going to change the world. She was just going to get an "A" on all her assignments. Lame.

She was good at a lot of things, right? But she felt like she was only good. She wasn't exceptional at anything, just decent. That's why no one wanted her.

Why he wouldn't want her.

The thought brought forth a new waterfall of tears. They were all going to go to a college without her, she was the only one who failed.

She didn't want to lose them. Didn't want to lose them the way she lost her first family.

If there was any chance that they would stay in contact with her, she had to prove she was a worthy friend. So, she put on a smile, wiped her tears one last time, dusted her jeans, and began walking back towards the school.

When she walked through the gates, lunch was already over which meant there would only be a few people in the halls. A few choice people. One of which she really didn't want to see right now.

But Sophie had never really been lucky.

"Sophie?" She sucked in a sharp breath and plastered on her face what she hoped would be at least a semblance of a smile. When she turned around Keefe was staring at her, hurt still darkening his features.

So he called her Sophie. Not Foster. Sure she had corrected him, but she really didn't want him to stop. Before she could stop herself Sophie blurted, "Foster!"

"What? I- When I called you Foster earlier you corrected me to Sophie! God Sophie, make up your mind already! What the Hell is wrong with you?" Sophie hadn't realized how badly she'd fractured him. She also didn't realize she had begun to cry.

"What isn't?"

"Foster, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that; You're crying!"

"I'm not crying, you're crying."

"No Foster, I'm pretty sure you're the one crying."

They smiled for each other, and for a second Sophie thought everything might be okay.

And then an alarm blared. And gunshots fired. Their school was under attack.

Sophie screamed and Keefe immediately ran over to her and covered her mouth. "Come with me! We have to find shelter!" He whisper-shouted, then he pulled her into one of the empty classrooms. After turning off the lights and locking the door, he pulled Sophie to one of the far walls where the shooter wouldn't be able to reach if they tried to shoot through the door.

The whole time Sophie was quiet, shaking in fear. This was bringing up bad memories. Sophie's parents hadn't just plopped dead, they'd been killed. 

In a shooting.

 In all of the four years she'd known her friends, no one but Dex knew how they actually died. Her other friends knew that Grady and Edaline were her adoptive parents, but they didn't know why. Dex knew of course, because his mom was Edaline's sister, but he'd sworn not to tell anyone. Sophie didn't want to relive the memories.

But she was.

With each scream in the building, Sophie imagined her parents' screams; each gunshot one aimed towards her father. Her mother. Sophie had only been eight when it happened, that was far too young to watch a mother and a father killed. Ruthlessly. Brutally.

The whole damn world was just unfair!

A friendly dinner for a happy family.

Laughing, smiling, kissing, hugging.

Mayhem, a man in a black outfit.

"Sophie," Keefe began, his voice a quiet whisper in the otherwise silent classroom, "It's gonna be okay, we're gonna get out of here." But it was almost as if she couldn't hear them. Sophie's eyesight was trained on the wall across from them. Everything was blurred out, nothing registered. She was only focused on her breathing; on blocking out the shrieks; on making it all go away.

A gun.

Victims.

Screams.

Still, she couldn't stop herself when she whimpered, "Mom," at one of the louder gunshots. They were getting closer and the memories were getting more vivid. Clearer.

A young blonde hiding under a table.

Hearing her parents' lifeless figures slump to the floor.

Holding her cries for help in.

Tears flowing silently down her face.

Praying.

Hoping.

Pleading.

Being overwhelmed by darkness.

Depression.

Loss.

Being filled with a hole that could never be filled.

Keefe shifted uncomfortably beside her, she could tell he was scared, she knew him too well, but he was trying to be strong for her. Did that mean something? "Sophie- Foster," He corrected himself. "Is this how... how it happened?"

She nodded numbly, battling the memories in her head.

"We went out for dinner, the three of us." She began calmly, stating each fact as if she was reading it dully off a list. Her breaths ragged and slow, "It was at our favorite restaurant. We had a good day; made breakfast as a family, went swimming after lunch. I never would have expected it." Sophie was crying again, but when Keefe didn't respond she continued, as painful as it was. And yet, it kind of felt good to let it out to someone she cared about.

Someone who she thought, no hoped, cared about her.

"He came in when we were finishing dessert. I had begged them for it. They'd refused at first, saying I had already had pancakes and popsicles that day. Too much sugar. I should've listened to them. No one saw him come in. No one saw him leave, we were all too scared; covering our eyes, praying he would leave us alone." She turned to him, "Keefe, I heard them. I heard their bodies fall to the floor... all of them. Their screams it's just," Sophie looked frantically towards where the door led to the hallway, "it's too much. It's too much."

Then she threw herself into Keefe's arms. He was stunned at first, but then he hugged her tightly, comforting her, telling her she'd be okay.

She would miss him. She would miss him so much. The idea caused her to stiffen and pull away. She couldn't get so attached. Soon he would be gone.

"Why'd he come today?"

"I don't know."

"Are you scared?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"I wish I wasn't."

"Stay strong."

"Are you excited for college?" The question she had been wanting to ask. She wanted him to tell her that he didn't want to go, that he wished she could go as well, that he would miss her.

That he couldn't live without her.

That he loved her.

"I guess."

"Oh."

"Sophie, why were you crying earlier?"

"I told you to call me Foster."

"Yeah, well you also told me to call you Sophie. And right now I'm calling you Sophie." He rarely contradicted her. It hurt. "Stop avoiding the subject, Sophie!" She had a feeling he added that extra "Sophie" in there just to prove a point.

"It's not your fault! Does that make you happy? Will you be able to sleep well tonight?!" Her voice was rising. She'd forgotten what was going on outside the classroom.

"I don't care whose fault it is! I just want to fix this! I want to make everything better." His voice was softer now, "Please, I know you. I know something is wrong."

"If you knew me you'd know what it is that's wrong. But you don't. Because you're stupid and oblivious!" Her anger was rising again.

"Oh, I'm oblivious? Are you kidding me?!" Now they'd both forgotten why they were alone in a dark classroom.

"Do you mean I'm oblivious? Whatever! You know what? Maybe it is your fault. Maybe if your stupid friend Biana hadn't been so high and mighty and rescued me from the bathroom that day then you wouldn't be my friend. Then you wouldn't have to leave! Then I wouldn't have had to say goodbye! It's your fault! It's all your fault! And you say you care, but you don't! You're yelling at me after you've just learned that my parents were freaking murdered by a shooter! And then I ask you if you're excited that you're going to college and you say 'I guess.' I guess?! You're supposed to tell me that you'll miss me! Why'd you have to make me care so much?! Why did you make me fall in love?!" There. She'd said it. The thing that had been haunting her for months.

The door burst open, screaming on its hinges.

Two shots were fired.

One missed.  

GAHHHHH CLIFFFYYYYYY

Who do you think was shot?