The Ripple Effect

The days following the talent show felt surreal for Sophie. People who had barely acknowledged her existence before were now stopping her in the hallways to compliment her performance.

"That was amazing," a girl from her history class said as Sophie passed her locker. "I didn't know you wrote poetry."

"Thanks," Sophie mumbled, feeling both flattered and overwhelmed by the sudden attention.

Rachel, of course, was ecstatic. "I told you!" she said during lunch. "I told you everyone would love it!"

Sophie smiled, but deep down, she felt uneasy. While the applause and compliments were gratifying, they also came with a new pressure—a weight of expectation she wasn't sure she was ready for.

---

Max, however, seemed unfazed by the shift in Sophie's social status. He still met her at their usual spot in the courtyard, sketching quietly while she read or scribbled in her notebook.

"Have you written anything new?" he asked one afternoon.

Sophie hesitated. "Not really. I feel like… I don't know. Like I've used up all my best ideas."

Max looked up from his sketchbook, his brow furrowed. "That's not true. You're just overthinking it."

"Maybe," Sophie said, sighing. "I guess I'm scared that whatever I write next won't be as good."

Max closed his sketchbook and leaned back against the bench. "You can't let that stop you. The first time I tried to draw, it was awful. Like, really bad. But I kept going, and eventually, I got better."

Sophie looked at him, her heart warming at his words. Max had a way of simplifying things, cutting through her doubts with his quiet confidence.

"You're right," she said softly.

Max smiled. "I usually am."

---

The talent show had another unexpected ripple effect. As Sophie grew more comfortable with the idea of being noticed, she started to see other people in a new light—especially Max.

She found herself paying closer attention to him: the way his hands moved as he sketched, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about art, the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make her feel better.

It was confusing, this sudden awareness of him as more than just a friend. She wasn't sure what it meant or what to do about it.

One afternoon, as they sat together in the courtyard, Sophie decided to test the waters.

"Have you ever thought about entering the art competition at the community center?" she asked.

Max shrugged. "Not really."

"Why not? You're so talented. I bet you'd win."

Max gave her a small smile. "Thanks, but I'm not really into competitions."

Sophie nodded, but she couldn't help feeling frustrated. Max had so much potential, and it bothered her that he didn't seem to see it.

"You know," she said, "I think you're braver than you give yourself credit for."

Max looked at her, surprised. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you're always honest," Sophie said. "About what you like, what you don't like, what you want. That takes courage."

Max was silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "I guess I never thought about it like that."

Sophie smiled. "Well, maybe you should."