Chapter 10 Balancing Act #2
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
Sophia looked toward the kitchen door. She thought of Vinny going low after Antonia corrected him. Thought of him telling her luck on her quiz. Thought of him texting Proud of you the night before. Thought of the kiss. The kiss wasn’t helping anything.
“Yes,” she said. “But I need to focus.”
Victoria’s face softened. “On work or school?”
“Both.”
“Then focus.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder.”
Sophia looked at her.
Victoria shrugged. “You know I’m not soft.”
“No. You aren’t.”
“But I’m right.”
“Yes.”
“Do you need me to take your phone later?”
Sophia stared.
Victoria lifted both hands. “Offer only.”
“I might.”
Victoria’s mouth opened. Then closed. She looked pleased and worried at the same time.
“All right,” she said. “That is mature. I hate it.”
After work, Sophia sat in the corner booth closest to the kitchen with her textbook open and her phone facedown beside Victoria’s elbow. Victoria had taken the assignment seriously. Too seriously.
“You aren’t allowed to touch it for thirty minutes,” Victoria said.
Sophia highlighted a paragraph. “I know.”
“If he texts, I will not read it.”
“Thank you.”
“I will look at the screen.”
“Victoria.”
“I said I wouldn’t read it.”
Gia slid into the booth across from them with a plate of leftover bread. “Is this a study hostage situation?”
“Yes,” Victoria said.
“No,” Sophia said.
Gia looked between them. “Excellent. I support both.”
Sophia pressed her highlighter to the page and tried to read.
The words were there. They made sense, mostly.
The problem was that her brain kept doing two things at once.
One part read about language development in preschoolers.
The other part wondered if Vinny would text.
Then remembered his hand on her cheek. Then remembered his mouth.
Then absolutely didn’t read about preschoolers. She forced her eyes back to the page.
Gia pushed the bread closer. “Eat.”
“I’m studying.”
“Eating and studying are allowed to be friends.”
Victoria picked up a piece. “She’s right.”
Sophia took bread because fighting both of them required energy she didn’t have. Antonia came over from the kitchen carrying a little container.
“Take this home,” she said, setting it beside Sophia.
Sophia looked up. “What is it?”
“Soup.”
Gia looked offended. “I didn’t get soup.”
“You didn’t stay after a shift to study.”
“I have studied menus.”
Antonia ignored her and looked at Sophia. “Vinny made too much.”
Sophia’s face warmed. Antonia’s expression didn’t change, but something in her eyes did.
“It is just soup,” Antonia said.
Gia coughed. Victoria kicked her under the table. Sophia looked at the container. Just soup. Sure.
“Thank you,” she said.
“He said it was for later, not now. He didn’t want to interrupt.”
That made it worse. Better. Both.
Sophia touched the lid of the container. “All right.”
Antonia nodded and walked away.
Gia watched her go. “That woman knows everything.”
Victoria looked at the soup. “What kind?”
Sophia checked the label written in Vinny’s messy handwriting. Minestrone. Her chest tightened.
Gia leaned closer. “Oh.”
Victoria’s face softened before she could hide it.
Sophia traced the word with one finger. Minestrone.
Her father’s soup. Vinny had remembered.
He hadn’t come out and announced it. He hadn’t set it in front of her and waited for praise.
He had sent it through Antonia so she could keep studying.
Sophia swallowed. Victoria nudged the phone farther away from her.
“Study first,” she said.
Sophia nodded.
“Then text him.”
“All right.”
And somehow, because of the soup, she actually studied. For thirty minutes. Then forty. Then an hour. Vinny did text once.
Victoria looked at the screen and said, “It is from him.”
Sophia looked up. Victoria didn’t read it. A miracle. Sophia finished the paragraph, wrote two notes, and then reached for the phone.
Vinny: Soup is for after studying. Not during. Unless you’re hungry during, then ignore me and eat.
Sophia smiled.
Sophia: I studied for an hour.
Vinny replied:
Vinny: Hell yes.
Then:
Vinny: Academic hell yes. Respectful.
Sophia laughed.
Gia looked up from the receipt she was pretending to read. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Victoria narrowed her eyes. “It was a Vinny laugh.”
Sophia ignored that and typed:
Sophia: Thank you for the soup.
Vinny: Your dad’s kind, right? Minestrone?
Sophia stared at the message. A tiny ache opened behind her ribs.
Sophia: Yes.
Vinny: Hope I didn’t overstep.
She looked at the soup. Then at her textbook. Then at Victoria and Gia pretending not to watch.
Sophia: You didn’t.
His reply took a little longer.
Vinny: Right.
Sophia set the phone down before she could stare at it too long.
Victoria leaned back. “He remembered the soup?”
“Yes.”
Gia picked at a piece of bread. “That’s annoyingly nice.”
“It is,” Victoria said.
Sophia looked at her.
Victoria sighed. “What? I can admit facts.”
“Thank you.”
“I still have concerns.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
When Sophia got home, Constance was in the living room with a stack of client folders and her glasses on top of her head. She looked at the soup container in Sophia’s hand.
“Bella Luna leftovers?”
“Yes.”
Constance set down a folder. “From Vinny?”
Sophia stopped. “How did you know?”
“Your face.”
“I need a new face.”
“I like this one. It tells me things.”
Sophia put the soup in the refrigerator. “It’s minestrone.”
Constance’s expression shifted.
“Ah.”
“Don’t.”
“That felt like a real ah.”
Sophia looked back.
Constance came into the kitchen. “He remembered?”
“Yes.”
“That is thoughtful.”
Sophia nodded.
Constance leaned against the counter. “Is he distracting you?”
Sophia opened her mouth. Closed it. Her mother always noticed the exact thing Sophia wanted hidden. She was nosy, but she also asked the right question.
“A little,” Sophia admitted.
Constance didn’t say I told you so. That was almost suspicious.
“Are you letting him?” she asked.
Sophia frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means he can be distracting without being responsible for your choices.”
Sophia didn’t like that. Mostly because it sounded true.
“I studied for an hour after work.”
“Steady.”
“I have a quiz tomorrow.”
“Are you ready?”
Sophia hesitated. Constance saw it.
“Mostly,” Sophia said.
“That isn’t yes.”
“No.”
Constance nodded once. “Then eat soup, shower, review for thirty more minutes, and sleep.”
“That sounds like parenting.”
“It is.”
“I’m twenty.”
“Yes. And still in my kitchen with soup and romantic confusion.”
Sophia laughed despite herself.
Constance smiled, but her eyes stayed serious. “I’m glad he is thoughtful. I am. But your future still belongs to you.”
Sophia looked down.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Constance waited.
Sophia sighed. “I am trying to know.”
“That is honest enough.”
The quiz wasn’t terrible. It was the worst part.
Terrible would have been dramatic. Terrible would have meant she could panic properly and create a plan with color-coded sections.
Instead, the quiz was just harder than it should have been.
Sophia sat in class the next morning with her pencil in hand, staring at question six.
She knew this. She had read it, maybe. The answer choices were too similar.
Her brain offered Vinny’s mouth instead of language milestones.
Absolutely not. She closed her eyes for one second.
Focus. She answered question six. Then seven.
Then circled back to three because she was less sure than before.
When Dr. Miller collected the quizzes, Sophia felt unsettled but not destroyed.
Marissa leaned over. “That one was rude.”
Sophia let out a breath. “Yes.”
“Question six?”
“Yes.”
“All right, strong. I almost wrote a complaint in the margin.”
Sophia smiled weakly. Her phone was in her bag. She hadn’t checked it all class. That worked. She checked it the second she got into the hallway. That felt less kind.
Vinny had texted:
Vinny: Luck today. You know more than you think.
Sophia stared at it. He had sent it before the quiz.
Not during or demanding an answer. Just there.
Support. That should have made her feel better.
It did. And still, a brief thread of worry pulled through her.
Because even supportive things took up space.
Nice space. Warm space. Space she wanted. But space.
She typed:
Sophia: Quiz was harder than I wanted.
Vinny replied after a minute.
Vinny: Want me to be mad at the quiz?
Sophia smiled.
Sophia: It was rude.
Vinny: I knew it. I hate it.
Sophia laughed softly in the hallway. Then another text came.
Vinny: Do you need study time tonight?
Sophia’s thumb hovered over the screen. She wanted to see him.
The wanting was immediate. Too immediate.
She had work later. Reading after. Another assignment due Friday.
If she saw him after work, even for a little, she would get home late.
She would tell herself she would read in bed and then she would think about him instead, probably. Maybe. No, probably.
Sophia: I should study.
His answer came fast.
Vinny: Then study.
Another.
Vinny: I can bring dinner to the library later if you want. Drop it off and leave. Or not come at all if that’s better.
Sophia stood still while students moved around her. Drop it off and leave. Or not come at all. He was giving options again. Not perfect or a magic solution. But options. Sophia felt the tightness in her chest loosen.
Sophia: Maybe dinner drop-off. But I need to actually study.
Vinny: Then I’ll bring dinner and be boring.
Sophia: You aren’t skilled at boring.
Vinny: For you, I can practice.
She smiled. Then looked at the classroom door behind her. School first. Romance not gone. Just not first. That sounded simple. It wasn’t.
Sophia: I’ll let you know after work.
Vinny: Good plan.