This story takes a little while to get into the action, just hang in there. Please enjoy the work and the true beginning of David’s story.

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The Importance of Sophie, Part 1: Vickie by SmokingMan

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I lay in bed, wondering. Pondering. What was that? Was it real? So many questions float around in my head. I roll onto my back, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to figure out what the hell that was. It couldn’t’ve been real, just an extremely realistic dream. I wasn’t actually there -wherever there was supposed to be- it was all in my head.

Right?

I get up and begin pacing around my room. I have school today, and calculus won’t wait. I get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast. By now my father is already at work and my sister is still sleeping. She usually waits till the last minute to get ready.

I prepare a bowl of cereal and sit down at our kitchen island to eat. As I sit there, munching my Cheerios, I happen upon an interesting idea:

There’s only one way I can confirm or deny the validity of the dream: carry out the task it had laid out, that being for me to have sex with Vickie, one of the more prominent sluts at my school.

This task had never been formally stated during the whole ordeal. In fact, nothing had been said at all throughout the entire encounter. But I still knew what it was that they wanted me to do, as though the thoughts and concepts had been placed directly into my mind. Of course, that’s impossible, but under the circumstances I’m willing to believe. And I still don’t even know who they are. I never even saw one of them, the only other living things there were my crush, which is impossible, and a porn star, which is also impossible.

After finishing my bowl I continue to get ready for school.

About half an hour later, it’s time to leave and I begin my relatively short walk to Carlson High School, which is about a quarter mile from home. I could drive but it’s not very far and I don’t mind the walk.

As I make my way there, I continue to wonder, but eventually push the thoughts aside (although it’s about as easy as pushing an ox) because there’s nothing I can do about it now, so there’s no use stressing over it.

Upon arriving, I can’t help but notice Vickie and the other girls from the dream as I pass them in the hallways. I see them one by one as I make my way to my locker and then as I wander the halls waiting for first period to begin.

They look… different now that I am aware of their significance. The person I want to see most now is Sophie, the chiefest of the ten and my personal love interest since freshman year. I know that I can’t just walk up to her and start asking questions about some dream I had like it was a real thing. No. But I had to see her.

I continue walking the halls without rhyme or reason, waiting for the bell when I pass Vickie for a second time. This time I take a long look at her as she approaches. She’s wearing a tight fitting long sleeve shirt in a deep blue color and black leggings, both of which accentuate her ample curves. She knows what she’s got, and she flaunts it with pride. Her dirty blonde hair flows behind her, unstyled as usual. As I look up from admiring her body, grey meets brown as our eyes come together for the briefest of moments. She has seen what I had been doing and gives a knowing smirk. I turn my head away quickly, and continue down the hall a little faster as I feel my face begin to flush red.

****

The first half of the day comes and goes. I slide into my seat in fourth period social studies, checking everyone who comes through the door. This is my only class with Sophie, and so far I haven’t seen her all day. She’s never late, nor has she ever been absent. The bell rings and class began without her for the first time this semester, likely this whole year.

When you’ve wanted someone for so long, it becomes a need, like a drug. The simple sight of her every day was enough to keep me going, but today I will have to go without that. There’s nothing I can do anyway; it’s not like she would know anything even if I could ask her. Despite how normal this is, her being absent, it’s too damn strange for her to be gone today, of all days, right after this dream of mine.

But that’s not proof. It could be a coincidence, but it’s damn conspicuous. I try to focus on what my teacher is talking about, but he could be talking about the spread of communism or the spreading of butter for all I know. I can’t focus on anything and I believe this event has now moved into the territory of an existential crisis.

Finally, the day ends and I make my way home.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, I don’t remember what happened, but seven hours pass and it’s 10:09 and I’m lying in bed, covers tucked up to my chin. I sit motionless until sleep finally takes me.

****

A few days pass and my mental condition is little better than before. This dream-thing has shaken me to my very core, and I’m still having trouble processing it all. Simply the endless question “What does it mean?” has been haunting me day and night.

I can’t live like this. It has to end. I have to know, something has to change.

When I get to second period, the first and only class I have with Vickie, I pray she’s here. Waiting another day with this madness is something I know I cannot bear.

When you walk into this particular classroom, there are rows of desks on either side of the room, with a considerable space in the middle. The desks in these rows are arranged so that students sitting on one side will be facing those sitting on the other side of the room, with the projector and whiteboard on the wall farthest from the door. The teacher instructs many of the English classes at Carlson, as well as journalism, so the class is set up for discussions.

In perfect cliche fashion, she sits on the opposite side of the room from me, and today the people that usually obstruct my view of her are absent.

Even though she is well known for her sluttyness, she won’t get with just anyone, and certainly not someone like me. You had to be big, strong and popular, like a jock. I was none of those things. But she does like to tease people, particularly those who she’d never sleep with, just to give them hope only to shoot them down if they make any advances. Outside of her friend circle, not many people like her, but she knows she can change the mind of any boy if she insinuates that she wants to have sex with them.

A wise man once said “the power of boners is stronger” and Vickie has proven that statement true time and again. She knows the power she has.

Even with this knowledge, my somewhat nerdy, gullible self still feels excited and nervous whenever she smiles at me from across the room. She seemed to be glancing over at me as much as I am at her, almost as if she- No! She’s playing you! She doesn’t actually care. It’s all just a scam to give you hope. If sex with her is the only way to know for sure, then you’ll have to be smart about this. Get her to want you, not the other way around.

The next time we meet eyes, I send back an equally knowing grin, with a nearly imperceptible nod of my head. Now it’s her who comes away confused. She has never experienced someone of my type playing her games, and my guess says that she likes it. Maybe she has found a real opponent.

As class wraps up, I begin talking with one of my friends in class, conveniently within earshot of Vickie, to further peak her interest. To let her know that I know what she’s doing, and that I can play just as well as she can.

“Ok, you know how I was eyeing Sophie? Well, I think I found someone even hotter.”

“By the way you’ve been talking about her, I’m surprised you think anyone even comes close to Sophie.”

“Yeah, but hear me out: Vickie.”

“What, are you serious? She’s such a bitch!” I had made sure my friend’s back was to her, so he wouldn’t know how close she was.

“I say it’s all a front. To weed out the weak ones. Only a tough guy would date a bitch, and besides, have you seen her curves! Nothing’s too big or too small, she has the perfect everything!”

“Whatever, man. I still think you should stay away, but you do you I guess.” At that moment, the bell rings and as all the students began racing to lunch, I shoot a look over at Vickie, who hasn’t moved and looks like she’s thinking hard about something. She looks up at me, I know she’s heard what I said. A little smirk from me is all she gets before I turn and walk out of class.

That may have worked better than I thought it would .

****

Over the next few days, we built up this kind of game, each doing as many things as possible to make the other think they were attracted to them. Of course, I do think she’s hot as hell, but that’s beside the point. If either of us admit our attraction to the other, that person loses. These are mind games we’re playing, and if I want to bang her, I’ll have to turn up the heat.

That came on Friday, when I decided to talk to her for the first time.

“You know I’ve seen you, staring at me from across the room every day.” I try my best at unflinching confidence, but I’m really making it up as I go.

Her response is instantaneous, “well that means you’ve been staring at me too.”

“You’re the one who’s always blushing when I’m around.”

“You’re the one who’s always gawking at my tits.” She rolls her shoulders forward, pushing her boobs together. I get a nice look at her cleavage due to her low cut top. My dick begins to harden and I regret going commando as my tip begins digging into my jeans.

I have to be careful of what I say now. If I admit at all that I’m attracted to her she’ll shoot me down and I’ll be back to square one. “Well when you put them on display like that…”

“I can see I’m having an effect on you, do you like what you see?” Shit, she noticed my boner, I’m screwed. She’s moving her hands up her sides now, inching towards her tits.

Just as I’m about to crack, I hear a sound.