Chapter 71 Aren't You Going to Take Responsibility?
"You're awake?" Michael yawned, his exhaustion clearly visible.
"Why are you..." Sophia's mind was foggy, and she could barely string words together.
Michael looked at her with confusion, meeting an even more confused pair of eyes, then suddenly laughed. "Why am I here? Well, that's because you were restless last night, crawled into my bed, and insisted I hold you before you'd sleep."
The scary thing wasn't getting drunk—it was having someone else recall your actions the next morning.
Fragments of memories came rushing back into Sophia's mind thanks to Michael's few words.
She remembered clinging to Michael for hugs after getting drunk, and after he brought her to her room, she still demanded goodnight kisses before she'd sleep.
Then, not long after falling asleep, she groggily got up, looking for Michael, checking room by room until she found him. Without a word, she lifted his blanket and crawled into his bed.
When Michael woke up, startled, he told her to go back to her own room, but she refused, using all four limbs to treat Michael like a body pillow.
"Michael, you're so handsome," she had said with a look of complete infatuation, planting several kisses on his face before finally settling down contentedly in his arms.
Recalling the entire evening, Sophia covered her face with her hands, wishing she could dig a hole and bury herself in it.
She swore she'd never touch alcohol again—not if she wanted any chance at prosperity in this lifetime!
Michael propped himself up on his elbow, watching the girl who was dying of embarrassment with amusement.
"Want another kiss?" he asked with a light chuckle.
Sophia grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him, her face burning red. "Shut up!"
"Why are you mad? I'm clearly the one who was taken advantage of." Michael feigned innocence, hugging the pillow. "You kissed me so many times and made me hold you all night. Aren't you going to take responsibility?"
Sophia's lips moved, but she couldn't say a word. She immediately rolled out of bed and fled. "Time for school!"
Watching the girl's hasty retreat, Michael couldn't help but laugh, tossing aside the pillow in his arms.
Nothing was as soft as holding her.
Amelia went to wake Sophia for school, but when her knocking went unanswered, she turned around just in time to see Sophia emerging from Michael's room.
"Good morning, Sophia, you—!"
How did she come out of Michael's room?
Sophia rushed over and covered Amelia's mouth, threatening her with her eyes not to say anything. "Don't get the wrong idea. Nothing happened between Michael and me. I was just sleepwalking."
"Sleep...walking?" Amelia raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. She pulled Sophia's hand away. "Actually, you know, it's fine if you admit it. We all know what's going on between you and Michael..."
Before she could finish, Sophia interrupted, "What's going on between us?"
"You're dating! He's been waiting for you to turn eighteen, and now you're legal. What's wrong with having a proper relationship?"
"We're not dating yet."
"What?" Amelia's features scrunched together as she grabbed Sophia's shoulders and shook her back and forth. "Why aren't you together? Don't tell me you have feelings for someone else?"
"He hasn't confessed yet," Sophia shrugged.
"Do you two really need a formal confession? You've been acting like a couple without being official. Can't you just make it official already?"
Although Amelia always complained about Michael stealing her precious Sophia, in her heart, no one except Michael was worthy of Sophia.
They'd grown up together, had mutual feelings, and came from well-matched families—what could be more perfect than that?
"Don't meddle. Michael and I have our own plans." Sophia smiled and patted Amelia's head. "Be good!"
Amelia pouted. "Fine, but when you two do start dating, you have to tell me first!"
This was her privilege!
Sophia made an OK gesture. "No problem, I definitely won't hide it from you."
Emily looked terrible today, going through the motions like a zombie all day.
Sophia curiously asked Amelia what had happened at last night's party, but Amelia wasn't clear on why Emily seemed so dejected—she'd been fine when the party ended.
It was just a fake necklace, wasn't it? It wasn't her first time being embarrassed. Was it really worth dwelling on?
After school, Amelia's driver came to pick her up and brought along all the gifts Sophia had left at the villa the night before.
"Sophia!"
James came to pick up Sophia from school and saw her carrying a pile of boxes. He quickly jogged over to help.
"Why so many things?"
"Gifts from friends last night."
Worried that James might feel upset, Sophia didn't mention that the two largest boxes were from Andrew and John.
Amelia, who was about to get in her car, saw James and circled back with that same infatuated expression. "James, long time no see."
"Long time no see. Did you cut your hair, Amelia?" James was observant—after more than a month, Amelia's short hair was even shorter than before, clearly freshly cut.
"Yes." Amelia unconsciously touched her hair, looking slightly shy. "Does it look bad?"
"Not at all. It's fresh and sharp—very fitting for you." James smiled warmly, treating Amelia like his own little sister.
Amelia was so moved that she nearly cried. So many people said that cutting her hair that short made her look nothing like a girl, that she'd be invisible in a crowd of guys.
Combined with her rather bold personality, quite a few people privately called her a tomboy.
Only James didn't think there was anything wrong with girls having super short hair, and he even complimented how well the style suited her.
"James, not being able to marry you is the greatest regret of my life! You absolutely have to marry me in the next lifetime!"
James was shocked, "What?"Sophia felt helpless.
"You need to go now—stop scaring James!" Sophia pushed Amelia toward her car and didn't relax until she was safely inside.
Amelia'd been getting more and more brazen with her words lately!
Every time she saw James, she completely forgot about Wayne, her fiancé. If this continued, the engagement between their families might actually be called off.
"James, from now on, go help Mom close up the shop after school instead of waiting for me at the school gate," Sophia patted James's shoulder, entrusting him with an important mission. "For Wayne's happiness, you need to appear less often around Amelia."
James tilted his head thoughtfully, then asked curiously, "Is Wayne really Amelia's fiancé?"
"Yes, their families have been friends for generations. They arranged the engagement when both kids were three years old."
"Oh..." James nodded with a contemplative expression.
He still found it hard to believe that eighteen-year-olds teenagers already had predetermined partners for the rest of their lives.
Life was so long—if you couldn't choose the person you loved, how would you live the next several decades?
James suddenly looked at Sophia seriously and asked, "What about you? The Smith family didn't arrange a marriage for you, too, did they?"