A/N: Hi, all! This is my first humor-romance fic, so if you wouldn’t mind humoring me (pun intended) I’ll try to make it worth your while. The basic plotline:

Sophie, a twenty-year-old English major, is definitely not expecting a run-in with her old tormentor when she agrees to a blind date. Even worse, her best friend is dating his brother—a situation that proves to involve burned cookies, an overweight cat, and one very awkward double date. But as things progress, they start to realize that maybe this situation isn’t as bad as they thought…

Disclaimer: I do not own any songs mentioned here!

Do You Hear The People Sing—from Les Misérables, by Claude-Michel Schönberg, Alan Boubli, and Jean-MarcNatel (English lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer)

Seven Wonders—from Catch Me If You Can, by Scott Wittman and Marc Shaiman

When Will My Life Begin—from Tangled, by Alan Menken and Glen Slater

Chapter One

I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair tumbled around my shoulders, and Megan’s favorite cardigan stretched comfortably around my torso. My lips were an alarming shade of orange. Note to self: never give Megan and Nat access to makeup. Ever.

This sucks.

“Hold still, Soph!” Megan griped. “You always squirm when we try to put on your eyeliner!”

“I do not!” I cried. I do, of course—but if there’s one thing I never do, it’s admitting my faults. “Your hands are trembling!”

“Sure, Sophie,” Nat retorted from behind me, braiding my hair. “Her hands are trembling, my skin is purple, global warming doesn’t exist, and Megan’s an orangutan.”

I cracked a smile. “Bah. Maybe Megan is an orangutan!”

“Watch what you say about the person who has a stick near your eye,” Megan said drily.

“Do I have to have all this…this paint on my face? It’s a blind date!”

“Exactly! You have to make a good impression! If you don’t, you’ll be left alone, crying, in the dark!” Megan struck her forehead. “Forever alone, outside looking in, weeping and wailing forever without freedom from the grief!”

I rolled my eyes—probably messing up half my eyeliner. Megan’s studying to be an actress. I’m more literary inclined; I’m majoring in English.

That’s me, Sophie Ronan. Hair that’s too long, nose that’s too short, chin that is very much defined, as are my opinions. There just aren’t many gray areas for me; it’s black and white, right and wrong. Maybe that makes me a harsh person. But it’s a harsh world; it takes a tough person to change it.

Not that all of this was going through my head as I gazed into the mirror. In fact, the only thought that was going it was:

This sucks.

This sucks.

Nat is really bad at braiding hair.

This sucks.

“All set!” Megan sat back, smiling.

I raised an eyebrow. “Lovely. Just one question, Meg. Did you mean to make my lips orange?”

“What?” Megan looked sharply at Nat. “Nat! You gave me the orange lip gloss! I said the peach!”

“Meggie, you know I can’t tell the difference!” She peeked around my head. “Whoa. Yeah. That is a big difference. Hold on, I’ll find the peach.”

Megan sighed. “Sometimes, I feel like your mother instead of your friend! And that goes for both of you, so quit snickering, Soph!”

I stopped mid-snicker. She really was like a mom—but in a good way. “Okay, fine. So who is this guy?”

“Well, when you get there, just say that you’re there for a blind date, and that his name is Theo.”

“Theo?” I wrinkled my nose.

“What—you don’t like the name?”

“It’s just that I knew a kid named Theo once. He made elementary school a living hell.”

“Oh yeah!” Nat came around to sit on the small stool in front of me. “You told us about him. Don’t worry—I mean, what are the odds that it’s the same guy?”

I grinned. “Good point. If it was, though…”

Megan shook her head. “No way would fate be that cruel.”

Nat knocked on the wooden dresser. I rolled my eyes. She was so superstitious. “All right, guys, I better get going. Thanks for the help!”

“Awww, there goes our little girl!” Megan grabbed Nat in a strangling hug, pretending to cry. “S-s-she’s growing up so f-fast…”

“Meg! Leggo!”

“Natty, you’re the only one I can turn to now! Please, allow me just one more warm embrace!”

I left, snickering at Nat’s expression when Megan began weeping actual tears. They’re so weird, I thought. But that just makes them even better—and it makes for some freaking awesome TV marathons. Let’s just say that Doctor Who plus Bones equals three very happy twenty-year-olds.

I got in my car and turned on the radio. I listened for about five seconds to the heavy beat and sexist lyrics, and then turned it off and put in my favorite CD instead.

Nat, who was a bit of a techno-geek, had made it for me back when I was in the Post-Ethan Phase. Call me nerdy, but it was full of my favorite musical numbers.

Do You Hear The People Sing came on first. I frowned. Not exactly an auspicious beginning—I mean, it wasn’t terrible, but it was no Seven Wonders. Was it supposed to mean that this guy would free me? But I wasn’t trapped by anything.

“…Beyond the barricade, is there a world you long to see?” I smirked. Any barricades I’d once had, I’d destroyed long ago. And I’d found the world beyond them—I’d found Megan and Nat and college and blind dates. That was a pretty big world.

Another song came on—When Will My Life Begin. I glared at the CD slot. All this ‘stunted-life’ stuff—you’d think that Nat would be able to come up with something a little more cheerful. Though considering it was in the P-EP, I’d probably needed it a lot at the time. It seemed like I was always needing a scolding of some sort—Nat took care of the musical kind, Megan of the verbal.

I was so deeply engrossed in the deeper meaning of the Disney song that I nearly missed my turn.

“Shit!” I whispered. My driving had always been a little rough around the edges. Oh well—I’d gotten there in the end. That was something.

I looked up at the restaurant. Well, diner might be a better word. I grinned. Whoever this Theo was, he’d definitely talked to Meg. I loved diners—milkshakes, cheeseburgers, and curly fries, and the waitresses who always looked like they’d been dropped right out of the fifties couldn’t be beat, not even by four-star restaurants.

I hurried inside. The woman by the front of the room smiled at me. “Hey, honey. You meetin’ anyone here?”

“Yeah—um, I’m on a blind date. With…uh, somebody named Theo?”

She ran her finger down the list of reservations. “Yep, here you are! He hasn’t arrived yet—want me to show you to your table?”

“Sure—just, can I ask a question?”

“Shoot, honey.” She sashayed over to an empty table.

“Why are there reservations for a diner?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s the damn boss—he believes in an ‘authentic fifties aura’ and ‘minimum amounts of disturbance.’ Which means that there’s only a certain number of people let in each night. But I can’t really cast him up to anything. He saved up for years to afford this place and make it his own, so I guess he’s allowed to do what he wants. And I do need this job.” She laughed, a little self-deprecatingly. “Listen to me, going on and on. Here’s your table. You need anything, honey, just holler for Laura.” She shook her thick red hair back. “Well, back to the grindstone. Thanks for chatting!”

I smiled, then sat to wait. My heart was thumping—I hadn’t gone on a date in over a year, and I’d never gone on a blind date. I wasn’t Miss Pure-And-Pretty or anything; just out of practice.

I heard the door slam open. My booth faced away from the door, so I could only wait, chewing my lip nervously.

“Hey, darlin’! Your date’s right over here. She’s been waiting awhile—go and meet her, won’tcha?”

I held my breath—then relaxed, as a girl with a mohawk gave a chaste kiss to a girl with a braid as a greeting. Phew.

Another waitress walked over and asked if she could get me something to drink. I told her I was waiting for my date.

I heard the door open, and this time, I knew it was the right one. Even twenty yards away, I could practically smell Laura’s huge grin. “Evening, sweetheart! Your name’s Theo?”

“Yeah.” The voice sounded a bit familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.

“She’s right over here. Been waitin’ for a while—you sure came late.” Her voice sounded slightly disapproving.

His voice took on an embarrassed quality. “My stupid brother had to tell me everything about his latest girlfriend. Once he’s started talking, it’s not easy to get away.”

At that moment, they arrived. Laura smiled. “Well, you two enjoy your evening, all right? I’ll be back with some menus!” And with that, she whisked off.

I was frozen. My eyes bugged out as I stared at a small scar above his forehead. A scar I knew would be there only if he was a certain person. I’d looked for that scar on every Theo I’d ever met, just to make sure they weren’t this one.

“Theo. Freaking. Brett.”

He looked strangely at me. “Do I know you?”

I had to clench my fists to keep from attacking him. “Let’s see…Smelly Sophie, Reeking Ronan, Ew She Has Cooties…any of that ring a bell, Theo?”

His eyes widened. “S—Sophie? Sophie Ronan?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Of course it is.” I cursed under my breath. “Why the fuck did Meg set me up with you?”

“Probably because she’s dating my brother.” Theo looked shell-shocked, but also like he was cursing Megan with every four-letter word in the universe.

“What?” This was news. This was definitely news. I ground my teeth. Megan had a shitload of explaining to do.

He paled, and reached up to shield his forehead. It was obviously a reflex, and I felt a flash of guilt. That just made me angrier.

“Hey, sweethe—oh.” Laura, arriving with the menus, looked from me to Theo to me again. “Things not goin’ so well?”

“Sorry, Laura.” My voice sounded like ice. “I’m gonna leave now. My friend has a lot of explaining to do.”

Theo stood up, evidently angry as well. “So does my brother. Sorry, ma’am—I think we’ll both be leaving now.

Laura’s face drooped. “Aw, sorry to hear that. You ever come back, just ask for Laura and I’ll give you a discount—all right?”

“Okay,” I said distractedly. I was already planning numerous and complex ways of torturing Megan.

The door slammed. I looked up; Theo had stormed out the door.

Laura sighed. “Maybe next time, love. For now—better hurry. I think there’s a rainstorm coming on.”

I muttered a few choice words under my breath and dashed for the door, hoping I’d make it in time.

+++

I didn’t.

I drove through the rain, too mad even for musical numbers. Megan. Is. So. Dead.

Why was I so pissed, you might ask? Well, from kindergarten to sixth grade, Theodore Brett had made my life a living hell.

I remember how it started. One cold day in winter, it snowed, and so the teachers let everybody play outside until their parents could come pick them up. I’d hung out with my friends, just trying to make a snowman. And we’d had fun—until he’d appeared.

“What are you doing?” The voice sneered at me. I looked up to the immensely tall first-grader. (Looking back on it, he was tall for his age, but I’d also been short for mine.)

“Building a snowman!” Gwen, who’d never noticed tone of voice, grinned at him. “You wanna help?”

He smirked, his freckled crinkling up. “Sure, I’ll help.” And then he’d kicked the snowman to pieces.

I don’t remember what happened after that. But everyone tells me that he had a black eye and I got a tooth knocked out. After that, it was war.

First grade for me, second grade for him, Gwen and I had managed to scare him at the Halloween party. He got his revenge in third grade, though. And that’s how it always went—up to fourth and fifth grade. I’d just started wearing training bras, and I hadn’t told anyone except Gwen. That was the year we started using the locker room. And that was the year that I came back from gym to my bra chopped up in a billion pieces and a note on top: PAYBACK SUCKS, HUH?

That had been the last straw. No one else had had an extra bra, so I’d had to wear Gwen’s winter coat in the middle of June and pretend that I wasn’t sweltering.

So the next year, there wasn’t any trickery. I felt too humiliated to ever face him again without crying, and I could never do that. I was really planning on ending it.

At recess, I was showing Gwen my ring with a spike that popped out when I pressed a button. My mom had given it to me, since she was letting me take the subway to school next year, and she wanted me to have protection. (Yeah, she’s a little weird.) That was when Theo and his friends looked over at us and laughed.

“Hey, Tits!” one of his friends yelled. Theo’s head whipped around, but at the time, I didn’t notice. I saw Theo hurting me year after year, revenge after revenge. I felt tears sting my eyes, and before I knew it, I’d hurtled myself at him.

I only meant to get in a couple of good hits. I knew I was outnumbered, and that they’d pull me off soon, and then Gwen and I could congratulate ourselves on another victory.

But I hadn’t realized that the spike was still out.

All I remember is punching him in the face, and how he slumped down, blood dripping from his forehead. I could still hear Gwen and his friends screaming…

I shook my head. Enough dwelling on bad memories. I had a friend to interrogate.

 

Hope you liked it! Reviews are always appreciated!