Queen Sophie Hartley by Stephanie Greene

locked bathroom where Sophie had sought shelter, Sophie had sworn off lists for the rest of her life.Hers or anyone else’s.
    Lately, though, she wished she hadn’t been so hasty. In order to remember everything, she had to walk around muttering, “Hair, boys, parties, nose, thunder thighs, Lisa Kellogg—hair, boys, parties, nose, thunder thighs, Lisa Kellogg,” under her breath. Since the day Nora had overheard her and gotten mad about
that
because she said Sophie was making fun of her, Sophie had been forced to repeat that list in her head. Since her head was already crowded, it meant there was hardly any room left.
    All she knew was that noses should be small, hair should be straight, and boys and parties were good unless they didn’t like you or you didn’t get invited to one. Then they were bad. She wasn’t sure what Lisa Kellogg had done to make Nora hate her, or what thunder thighs were, but they were both definitely on the list. It was all very complicated.
    What worried Sophie most of all, though, was something Nora had said a few weeks earlier. She and Mrs. Hartley had been arguing about a pair of expensive jeans that Nora said all the girls in middle school wore and Mrs. Hartley said they couldn’t afford. Sophie was only trying to help when she said, “You should do what I do, Nora. Sew or glue things on your old jeans to make them look different.”
    â€œButt out, Sophie,” Nora said.
    â€œNora!” said Mrs. Hartley.
    â€œIt’s none of her business.”
    â€œWe’re in the kitchen,” Sophie said. “When you’re having a conversation in the kitchen, anyone can join it.”
    â€œOh, is that right?” Nora sneered at her in the way she’d perfected in middle school. “You think everything’s so hunky-dory all the time. Just you wait, Little Miss Sunshine.
Your
time will come.”
    Nora had stormed up to her room before Sophie could ask exactly
when
Nora thought Sophie’s time would come and what would happen to her when it did.
    â€œShe means you’re going to become a teenager.” Mrs. Hartley got up to put her mug into the dishwasher and muttered, “Heaven help us,” under her breath.
    â€œI heard that,” said Sophie. “It doesn’t help, on top of Nora.”
    â€œSorry.” Her mother flashed a fake smile. “Who knows, Sophie? Maybe you’ll be the first adolescent in history to become a teenager who doesn’t have temper tantrums or grow a mustache!”
    â€œYou know I won’t,” Sophie said gloomily. “Even Thad changed. Remember how he suddenly grew hair all over his arms and legs and went around giving us beard burns and flapping his arms to show off his hairy underarms?”
    â€œPlease.” Her mother picked up her briefcase and started for the hall. “Three teenagers in one house,” she said. “What were we thinking?”
    It wasn’t very comforting.
    What if Nora was right and Sophie had no other choice than to become a teenager who burst into tears one minute and was hysterical with happiness the next? And who argued with almost everyone in her family?
    Sophie didn’t want to become that kind of person. For one thing, she didn’t like to argue. For another, she liked the people in her family. Now that she was fourteen, Nora seemed to hate most of them. She ignored Sophie whenever she could and argued with everyone else, almost every day.
    Mr. Hartley was safe because he was on the road so much of the time, and Maura still talked in one- or two-word sentences. Even Nora couldn’t argue with a toddler who said only “Wow!” and “Okay!” As for John, he had a way of ignoring everything that went on above his head. Since he was seven and short, he managed to avoid most family arguments.
    Nora argued constantly with Thad and their mother. Her temper had started to affect everyone in the family. Mrs.