It was dark. That was the first thing that came to mind when Sofia woke. She checked the clock on the wall. 12:45 a.m. What was the holdup? Charlotte was passed out on the floor, and the television was turned off. Heaving herself off the couch, Sofia trudged to go turn on a light switch, but when she flicked it, it did nothing. Power outage. Taking her her phone from her pocket, Sofia turned it on. 9:45 p.m. The outage must've reset the clock, since it was digital. Even so, the Jackson's were late, but nevermind. Sofia gently scooped Charlotte in her arms and carried her up the stairs and into her room. Letting her eyes adjust to the darkness, she slipped the child under the covers and smoothed the blanket. With a final pat on the head, she left the room, door open a crack.

She decided to check the power box. Grabbing a flashlight from under the kitchen sink, she went outside. The house across the street had no lights on, so maybe they had an outage too. She could ask. After all, she had no idea how a power box worked. Although she still checked it to see if there was any sort of damage. Nothing. Grabbing a notebook and sharpie, she scribbled something across the page and set off across the street.

After she rang the doorbell, there was a scrambling sound and a muffled yell. The door opened, a man looking out from behind it. He took out a flashlight and shone is on her. Sofia shielded her eyes for a moment, and the man said, "Yes?" She showed him the paper, which said "Are you having power problems too?" He read the words, lips slightly mouthing them, and he nodded. "We've been trying to fix it for half an hour now. Any luck with you?" Sofia shook her head. "Where do you live?" He asked, and she pointed down the street, and scribbled something in the notebook. "Babysitter." The man had opened up the door fully, and he nodded. "I see. I'm Frank Heffley," he said, and shook her hand. "Sofia Clark," the paper said. Suddenly, Frank changed the topic. "Not to be rude, but why aren't you talking? Medical condition...?" Sofia didn't move for a moment, then wrote, "More or less." He nodded. "Hey, how about you take the kids you're babysitting and come inside? We have candles, an unfinished dinner, and I've just called the electrician." Sofia thought for a moment. Can she trust him? She's be damned if she took help from a rapist, but to confirm his honesty, a young boy about thirteen called from behind him, "Dad, I found more flashlights!" After a moment of rapid decision, she nodded. "We'll be over soon," she wrote, and turned to go get Charlotte.

Turns out, Charlotte was terrified of the dark. When Sofia gently shook her, Charlotte nearly screamed at the fact that her night light wasn't on and providing safety. But soon the situation was explained, and reluctantly the girl followed her babysitter to the house across the street. By the time they arrived, the electrician had just shown up, and was trying to locate the problem. The two girls awkwardly entered the house, ushered in by Frank's wife, Susan. There was a prepubescent boy sitting in the kitchen, eating a pizza, while an older teen boy's voice sounded from the living room, complaining about not watching his shows. Sofia gently nudged Charlotte toward the boy, telling her with her eyes to go make friends. Charlotte just sighed and sat next to him. "Hi," she said quietly. "Hi," the boy replied. "I'm Charlotte Jackson," she continued. "Greg Heffley," he muttered, mouth full of pizza. Leaving the two kids to mingle, Sofia uncomfortably walked through the house. She smiled at Mrs. Heffley, and nodded at Mr. Heffley. Candles provided a low lighting that could almost be romantic, if not for the fact that there was no love story, and it was a power outage. She wandered into the living room and looked around. It was small, cozy. She saw the couch, barely in the dim light. Looking ahead of her, she began sitting down, but she didn't not make contact with pillows. Instead, she made contact with denim. "Woah!" A deep voice exclaimed, and Sofia gasped. She jumped up rapidly, hands covering her mouth. In an attempt for an apology, she squeaked, but could say no more. "Watch where you're going, short stack," the voice said, and as Sofia squinted in the light, she saw HIM. It was always him. Somehow, it was always him. The boy from the mall, the teen yelling out the bedroom window. Now, she had barely escaped sitting in his lap. Well, more like his legs. As Sofia squinted in the dark, she saw him sprawled on the entire couch, hands behind his head. Oddly enough, he was wearing ripped jeans, but no shirt. His attire, or lack of attire, confused her. What was with the jeans? He was sleeping two hours ago! She gently moved his legs and sat daintily on the edge of the couch opposite him. He slid into a sitting position, hands still behind his head. He was looking at her. "Weren't you at the mall a few days ago?" Sofia nodded. There was a pause. "I'm Rodrick," he awkwardly said. She gave a small smile and turned her eyes to the ground. "What's your name?" She looked back up at him with a look that said 'seriously?' He scoffed. "Hey, just trying to make conversation. It's not like there's a stranger in my house and the powers out." Sofia rolled her eyes and motioned for Rodrick give her his hand. Cocking an eyebrow, he did so. Then she used what she liked to call the 'Helen Keller' method. She took his hand, palm up, and wrote her name with her finger on it. He was confused for a moment, and she did it a second time. He finally understood when she did it a third time, and got her name the fourth time she did it. "Sofia, huh? Nice to meet ya." He smiled and flipped his hand to the side to shake hers. Sofia smiled and rolled her eyes. "You probably get this a lot, but why aren't you talking?" Rodrick squinted at her, as if trying to decipher the problem himself.

M-U-T-E

Sofia left her finger on his palm as she remember why she was this way. She felt like crying, but there were no tears brimming, which was a good thing. Rodrick thought about it for a moment. "Oh," he finally said. "I thought you lost your voice or something." Sofia merely shrugged, and pulled her phone from her pocket, letting Rodrick's hand fall to his lap. She had a text message from Mrs. Jackson. "We're sorry we're late! A big cement truck crashed into a pretty big power line, and from what I heard all the suburbs are out of electricity. Are you and Charlotte ok?" Sofia sighed. So that's what happened. She replied to the text saying "Everything is fine. We r hanging out the Heffley's down the street. Charlotte is having a great time, no worries." As she sent it, Rodrick looked over her shoulder. "Aaah, so you're the babysitter. Should've known," he said. Sofia raised an eyebrow. She gently nudged his shoulder playfully, and he nudged her with his elbow. "You're cool," he said, chuckling softly. Sofia typed something on her phone and showed it to him.

"Is that a compliment?"

Rodrick huffed. "Don't beat yourself up 'bout it. I'm just saying. We should hang out some time." Sofia's heart nearly stopped. This was the first time someone liked her. Wanted to hang out with her, be her friend, and willingly. She covered her mouth looked at the floor. Rodrick sighed. "Do I have to spell it out? I'm asking for your number, Sherlock." Sofia nodded and handed him her phone. He entered his number, and handed if back. "Text me sometime, 'kay?" Sofia smiled under her hand and nodded. For the first time in ten years, she was genuinely happy.

Yay! An appearance from our precious Rodrick! 3 I think next chapter will be a bit of an insight on his thoughts. Thanks for reading, please review!

-S