Sophie: A Story of Change

Plans of Action

Thomas had a "study date" scheduled with Chloe after school — emphasis, sadly, being on "study" — but since she usually hit the gym first, he had some free time before she arrived. The weather in Twisted Oaks was usually lovely this time of year, and today was no exception; clear, sunny and warm, with just the slightest touch of the crispness of autumn creeping into the air.

As was his habit since he was old enough to not to hurt himself in the process, Thomas jumped the fence instead of just opening the gate, and unlocked the back door into the kitchen. He set down his backpack on the kitchen table, pulled his sweatshirt off, and grabbed an apple from the fridge to tide him over until dinner. As much as he would've preferred chips or some Pop-Tarts, Thomas' mom was quite keen on healthy eating and had long ago banished junk food from their pantry.

Neither his mother nor his father were home yet, either — his mom was likely just finishing up work at her yoga studio, and his dad often wound up staying late at the car dealership, crunching the day's sales numbers. Like most afternoons since his brother went away to college, he had the place to himself. He suspected that his parents would normally have disapproved of him spending time with a girl alone, but they were entirely aware of Chloe's predilections — which they warmly accepted without question — and trusted him not to get into too much trouble.

Not wanting to waste such a lovely day, Thomas soon found himself outside in the backyard. He spent a few minutes lounging in a lawn chair, just soaking it all in. However, his reverie was soon interrupted by the memory of the odd occurrence earlier that day.

He had somehow known that Heather was in danger of slipping without even seeing her. That plainly shouldn't be possible.

Just how had he done that? Now that he thought about it, this wasn't the first time something like this had happened. There had been times in his life when he just seemed to know what was about to happen. He'd first noticed it as a child when he'd warned his mother right before a pot of spaghetti boiled over. It was something he'd always chalked up to strong reflexes and situational awareness, so he had never given it much thought. Chloe, however, had noticed his knack for catching stray balls, and liked to entertain herself by occasionally tossing things at him just to watch him catch them.

Curious, he grabbed a few small stones from around his mother's garden, then walked to the center of the backyard. Closing his eyes, he tried to clear his mind, focusing on his breathing — a trick Chloe said she often used before winding up for a pitch. With a little trepidation, he flung the rocks straight upward.

Suddenly, eyes still closed, he felt the now-familiar pinpricks on the back of his neck, and then a series of images burst into his mind, like a film reel being played in slow motion. He saw the downward trajectory of the rocks before they'd even begun to fall, and where they'd land if he just allowed them to drop. Quickly guiding his hands to where he could feel the stones would be, he reached out and felt the slight sting of impact as the first rock fell into his open palm.

Then the second.

Then the third.

He opened his eyes with a gasp. This was unreal. His ability was not only unquestionably supernatural — he now knew it was something that he could control.

His revelation was interrupted by the sound of a backpack being tossed over the backyard fence, prompting him to drop the stones. A few seconds later Chloe appeared, vaulting over the white picket fence. As usual, she was wearing a pair of navy blue athletic shorts and a simple gray t-shirt reading KNIGHTS SOFTBALL.

"Hey Thomas! I rang the doorbell and nobody answered, so I thought I'd check back here."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Chloe! I should've been listening for you."