[Sophie's Journal]

Helpful Thought Prompt: What is going on around you? How does that make you feel?

What the hell is a Helpful Thought Prompt? If you need help or a prompt to think, then I seriously doubt that you should be writing in a journal. Especially one that is covered in hideous purple velvet and has "S.P. Williams" in fancy script. My old clarinet teacher Mrs. Terich used to wear purple velour tracksuits and gaudy gold jewelry, I didn't take that combination of colors and materials seriously then and I don't intend to now.

But okay, I'll play along. There's nothing better to do, anyway. I arrived at the Gallagher Academy a few hours ago and settled into my dormitory. My best friends and the rest of the girls in our hall showed up shortly after, chattering aimlessly and loudly to make up for a summer's worth of lost time. Without even leaving my comfortable perch near the window in my room, I can hear bits and pieces of Rory Farber's adventures in China or Leana King's French escapades. Everyone's voices is familiar to me.

It's weird to think of how close the senior class is. Sometimes there's this lovely feeling where you feel like you have a wonderful group of sisters and you could sit in a circle and paint your nails and braid hair without feeling like a total cliche. Or how we can borrow each others clothes without asking or all get together to go into town on days off. It does, as much as I hate to say it, give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside.

And then sometimes, I actually want to stab every single one of them and maybe undergo a sex change. Is that strange? This is the kind of shit you'll have to put up with, Journal. Are you sure you're up for the job?

Our room is just the way we left it when we departed for the summer. Thank goodness, the thought of anyone else occupying Room 108 makes me seriously ill. The bright green walls, the tattered posters, and various photos marked it as our territory. Everyone knows it as Ivy, Jules, and Sophie's room, our Bat Cave, our not-so-secret headquarters. Except by now, our names blend together into one word, IvyJulesandSophie. Maybe to someone else, it'd be offensive to be referred to as a single moniker, but not to us. We're always the exception.

Ivy is furiously unpacking her multiple suitcases into the largest closet. Ever since freshmen year, it's been decided that she gets the privilege of using that closet. It's only fair, after all, she's got more clothes than probably all of us put together.

On the more relaxed side, Jules is lying on her bed, absentmindedly reading a book in Sanskrit—hold on a moment, this is getting boring.

Ivy suddenly turned into a hideous toad, and she's growing a mustache as I write this. And a soul patch, because she wants other toads to think she's a deeply tortured artist. Jules, on the other hand, magically grew a third leg and is already plotting a way to start a three-legged race gambling ring and reap the profits. Once the Gallagher Academy's very own James Potter and Sirius Black, the two—

"Hey!" A foam soccer ball just hit me in the face. Jules. Her aim isn't the only thing that's deadly, as she's reading over my shoulder with a grim facial expression.

"A three-legged race gambling ring?" she reads with a snort, "Are you serious? There are so many other things I'd do with a third leg."

Ivy snorts, "That didn't sound sexual at all." She puts down the shirts she was precariously folding and bounds over to us. "A soul patch?" she says with disgust, "have I taught you nothing about proper facial hair rules?"

"Gross. Ives, do you remember Mark? From last summer?"

"Mustache Mark? Ugh, please don't remind me. It was a lapse in judgment."

"Won't stop me from judging you."

Yes, Journal. These are my friends. Remember when I said I occasionally wanted to stab my classmates? Jules and Ivy would be the first, no question.

And you know what? They're also the reason I'm stuck with this piece of crap journal in the first place.

When you put together Ivy and Jules, a boring summer night in Roseville, a few crates of illegal fireworks, and a three story high building with terrible security—you're in for trouble. But when you add the local police, Elizabeth and Jonas Williams and a few psychology books on parenting to the mix—you're told you need to "creatively and personally take a perceptive glance at my problems and organize them without using crime as a cry for attention" and consequently get stuck with a stupid journal.

Feel free to take offense.

-Sophie

ROSEVILLE POLICE DEPARTMENT- OFFICIAL REPORT

REPORTED BY DEP. FRED SANTIAGO ON JULY 18TH AT 2:24 A.M.

RECORDED BY JR. DEP. JAMES PETERSON

OFFENDERS: JULIANNE MARIS (17), IVY MCHENRY-WINTERS (17), SOPHIA WILLIAMS (17)

OFFENSES: BREAKING AND ENTERING, ILLEGAL POSSESSION OF FIREWORKS/EXPLOSIVES

—

OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPT:

Dep. Fred Santiago: Can you ladies please tell me why you're here?

Ivy McHenry-Winters: ...You brought us here. In a cop car. About twenty minutes ago.

Santiago (sighing): I'm aware of that fact, Miss McHenry-Winters—

Julianne Maris: Call her Ivy. Her last name sounds pretentious as hell.

Santiago (sighing again): Thank you, Miss Maris. Now, er, can somebody please tell me why you were on the roof of the Lowell building on 13th and Simms, lighting (pauses to look at notes) crates of fireworks?

Maris: Technically, they were just firecrackers and bottle rockets. Lighting an firework without proper precautions would just be careless.

McHenry-Winters: I agree, they are significantly less harmful. We're not stupid. Bottle rockets and firecrackers wouldn't hurt anyone but us. And they didn't.

Santiago: Noted, but it's still illegal to be in possession of them as minors. Where did you get the fireworks?

Maris: We actually found the crate abandoned on the side of the street next to a homeless man.

McHenry-Winters: Crazy luck, right?

Santiago (scribbling furiously): But why on the rooftop?

McHenry-Winters (smiling): We thought this town needed a little dazzle. You know, just some fun and spark.

Maris: Dazzling, having fun, or giving this town a well-deserved spark isn't illegal.

McHenry-Winters: I'd say it's pretty noble, actually. Our only crime is bringing joy to others.

Maris: Yeah, I mean, how messed up is that you can in trouble for that nowadays? (to Dep. Santiago) D'you know what you can do for fun in Roseville?

Santiago (frowning): No, what?

Maris: I don't know either. I was asking you, man. (McHenry-Williams snickers in the background)

Santiago (exhaling deeply): You ladies need to be taking this matter seriously. Do you know what could've happened to you? Say the firecrackers went off in the wrong direction and hit one of you and fell off the roof?

McHenry-Winters (pauses): That actually couldn't happen. We always ran behind this huge generator after lighting it.

Maris: Yeah, and the force of the firecracker versus our mass wouldn't—

Santiago (frustrated): Look, I'm not here to argue with you about the physics of the matter. We're here to talk about the severity of your actions. Beginning with how did you break into the Lowell building?

Maris (with a grave expression): Picked the locks to the front door, disabled the alarm system, blocked all footage of us breaking into the building with a looped reel of footage from the night before, re-routed the elevator to take us up to the top floor, and then dusted for fingerprints on the door keypad for the security code to allow access on the roof.

Santiago (dumbstruck): ...Are you serious?

(McHenry-Winters and Maris burst into laughter.)

McHenry-Winters (catching her breath): Oh, God, Jules, you really had him! (to Dep. Santiago) You should've seen your face! (breaks into hysterics once more)

Maris (wiping a tear of laughter from her eye): Priceless, just priceless. "Are you serious?" (said in deeper tone, possibly mocking Dep. Santiago)

Santiago (takes off glasses and sighs, massaging temples): Miss Maris, Miss McHenry-Winters. My shift ends in five minutes. Please do not make it hell for me with your silly nonsense. Now, how did you really get into the Lowell building?

McHenry-Winters (calmly): There was a ladder on the side of the building and we climbed it.

Santiago: A three story high building?

Maris: We're not really afraid of heights.

Santiago: So...the lock picking and alarm system disabling and dusting for finger prints...all false?

McHenry-Winters: Yup. I mean, who could actually do something like that? You'd have to be some kind of locksmith or criminal genius—

Maris: Or, you know, a spy.

McHenry-Winters: You have a better chance of becoming a wizard, Julesy-kins.

Santiago (taking an aspirin): You know what? We're getting absolutely nowhere. It's two in the morning and you're just a group of silly high school girls. I'm going to let you off with a warning, okay? Just don't let me catch you on any more rooftops trying to dazzle Roseville with fireworks. (turns to Sophia Williams, who has been silent) Do you have anything to add to this or can I just write this off as a case of teenage summer hi-jinks?

Sophia Williams (shakes head): If I were to assault Ivy and Jules right now, how long would I be in jail for?

Santiago (taking another aspirin): Six months. A year at worst.

Williams (hesitates): Not worth it.

McHenry-Winters: Can we leave now?

Santiago: Please leave now.

Maris (leaps out of chair): Excellent, the night is still young. (gestures to friends) Shall we, ladies?

McHenry-Winters: We shall. Au revoir, Fred!

Maris: We'll have to do this again sometime!

(Maris, McHenry-Winters, and Williams exit office.)

Santiago (gathering belongings): Hey, Peterson?

Jr. Dep. James Peterson (still recording): Yes?

Santiago: If you see those three committing another crime, even bloody murder, do me a favor and don't say anything.

Peterson: Will do, sir.

(transcript ends)

AN: well, yeah. this is the ridiculousness that is ivy, jules, and sometimes sophie.

em wrote sophie's part, i did the police report while doped up on tylenol.

letters start next chapter with the girls and is already written, so it's probably gonna be updated tomorrow. yay!

thanks for sticking with our nonsense, tell us what you think so far!

-asha (: