The Sweetness of Salt(8)

She paused for a few beats. “That’s e. e. cummings, right?”

“Yeah.” I paused, hanger in my hand. “How’d you know that?”

“I know a lot of things you don’t know that I know.” For a split second, she held my eyes with hers. “Anyway, whatever the situation is between you and Milo, the boy’s got good taste. In girls and poetry.”

I exhaled as I realized the moment had passed, hung up my robe, and began to unbutton the front of my dress.

Sophie looked amused as I shimmied out of it and made a beeline for my dresser, clutching the dress against the front of me. “Can I ask you a question without you getting mad?” she asked, flopping down on top of my bed.

“Maybe.”

“Are you still a virgin?”

I whirled around, still holding the dress against me, and looked at her, aghast. “What?”

She rolled up along her back so her legs stuck up straight above her. “I’m just saying. You look so uncomfortable getting undressed in front of me, and I remember that I used to be like that too, until I started sleeping with Eddie.”

“You and Eddie…?” I let the sentence trail off.

Sophie let her legs fall back down. “Had sex?” she finished. “Well, yeah. You ever get a good look at him? Jesus, I think even the boys in our school wanted to sleep with him.”

I turned back around, yanked open my dresser drawer, and rummaged inside for my favorite jeans. This little bit of unwanted information had just sullied the golden image I still had of Eddie. Sophie watched me intently, still in her upside-down position, as I pulled on a black camisole and a V-neck T-shirt edged with tiny sparkles. I didn’t know what Zoe was planning on wearing to Melissa’s party, but this was about as fancy as I got when it came to going out.

“So, are you then?” she asked. “A virgin, I mean?”

I reached down and snatched my dress off the bed. Of course I was still a virgin. “You know what, Sophie? That’s really none of your business.”


“Oh, I know.” Sophie rolled back down, stood up, and walked over to look at my shot glass collection. “God, Mom would be horrified, wouldn’t she?” She picked up a shot glass Dad had bought me from Wellesley when we had gone to visit the campus last fall. It said GO BLUE on the front. “Where’s Pitt?” she asked finally, turning around.

“What?”

She pointed to the shot glass collection. “The one from Wellesley is front and center, and it looks like you have one from every other place in the country, but nothing from Pitt. Don’t you think it’s weird that you don’t have a shot glass from the school you’re going to?”

I shrugged. “It’s there. I think it’s toward the back.”

Sophie set the shot glass back in its place. “What’s your major going to be there, anyway?”

“Political science,” I said. “I’m doing the whole prelaw thing.”

Sophie stared at me. “Prelaw?” she repeated. “As in becoming a lawyer? Like Dad?”

I nodded, pushing down another flutter of annoyance. “What’s wrong with being a lawyer?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it.” Sophie sat back down on my bed. “I mean, if that’s what you want to do.” She looked at me. “Is that what you want to do?”

“Of course it’s what I want to do.” I picked up a folded T-shirt, shook it loose, and then began folding it again.

“Why? Because Dad’s a lawyer?”

I gave her a look. “Don’t be annoying, Sophie. Why would Dad being a lawyer have anything to do with what I want to do with my life? I do have my own brain, you know.”

“You think so well on your feet, Julia, which is exactly the kind of trait you need to become a good trial lawyer.” Dad had said that to me in ninth grade, solidifying my decision once and for all.

Sophie sidestepped my question by asking another one. “Okay then, why do you want to be a lawyer?”

“Because I think it’s interesting, okay? And I like it.”

“What’s interesting about it?”

I sighed exasperatedly. “Everything’s interesting about it. It’s…the law. You know. You get to uphold our constitution every day, protect people’s rights. See that the accused get a fair and honest trial. It’s a noble profession, Sophie. Maybe one of the noblest. ”

“Since when have you been interested in being noble?” Sophie drew her head back as if she had just tasted something bitter.

I put a hand on my hip. “Why do you always have to be so critical?”

“I’m not being critical,” Sophie said. “I’m just trying to understand. What is it about being an attorney that excites you, Julia? What gets your blood pumping? Helping people? Is that it? Or do you have some kind of burning desire to keep law and order in Silver Springs? I mean, what is it?”

Excites me? Was she kidding? This wasn’t about being excited. It was about getting things accomplished. Creating a career that would lead to bigger and better things. Assistant district attorney maybe, or even the district attorney, if I created a sharp enough record. Maybe even a judgeship somewhere in the future. “You know what?” I said. “You’re being a real jerk.”