Chapter 7 Picnic Rules #2
“No, you were right.” He set the spatula down. “I want you to relax. Not feel like you have to compliment twelve containers.”
“Twelve?”
“Exaggeration.”
Antonia coughed. Sophia tried not to laugh. Vinny gave Antonia a betrayed look.
“All right,” he said. “Maybe eight.”
Sophia laughed. The warm feeling from the cake. From the alley. From him asking right. Only now it had tomorrow attached. That made it bigger.
Vinny saw something in her face and softened his voice. “Still fine for Sunday?”
Sophia nodded. “Yes.”
“You can still change your mind.”
“I know.”
“All right.”
She looked down at the lemon cookies.
“I don’t want to.”
Vinny went very still. Sophia’s heart kicked. She hadn’t meant to say it like that. So plain. So close to the truth. Still, the truth was out. Vinny’s smile came slowly.
“Fine,” he said.
Antonia turned back toward the office with the folder. “No flirting over the cookies.”
Gia yelled from the dining room, “That should probably be a health code thing.”
Sophia covered her mouth. Vinny shook his head, laughing under his breath.
The shift passed softly after that. Not quiet, because Bella Luna was never quiet.
But Sophia didn’t feel hunted by everyone’s attention.
Victoria checked on her twice, both times pretending she needed water pitchers.
Gia made one comment about napkins, then stopped when Antonia looked at her.
Vinny stayed focused, mostly. He didn’t make her feel watched.
He made her feel included. It was different.
By the end of the night, Sophia’s nerves had changed shape.
They were still there, but they weren’t all fear.
Some of it was excitement. She walked home with Victoria, her coat buttoned tight against the wind.
“So,” Victoria said.
Sophia looked at her. “Please don’t start with so.”
“I am absolutely starting with so.”
“I have a paper to finish.”
“And tomorrow you have a date.”
“I know.”
“With Vinny.”
“I know.”
“Who is making lemon cookies.”
Sophia looked at her. “You knew?”
“Gia texted me.”
“She did.”
Victoria looped her arm through Sophia’s. “How do you feel?”
Sophia thought about lying. Then didn’t.
“Nervous.”
“Normal.”
“Excited.”
“Also normal.”
“Like I might throw up.”
“Less cute, but still normal.”
Sophia laughed.
Victoria smiled a little, then grew serious. “You know you can leave if you get uncomfortable.”
“I know.”
“Call me.”
“I know.”
“Or just text me one word and I’ll call you.”
Sophia stopped walking. “A lemon emoji?”
“It fits the theme.”
“That is ridiculous.”
“It is memorable.”
“I am not sending you a lemon emoji because my date goes badly.”
“Fine. Send a fork.”
Sophia stared at her.
Victoria shrugged. “I am flexible.”
Sophia leaned into her as they walked again. “Thank you.”
“For being flexible about emergency emojis?”
“For not telling me not to go.”
Victoria was quiet for a few steps.
“I thought about it.”
“I know.”
“But you want to.”
“Yes.”
“And he’s trying.”
Sophia looked at her.
Victoria sighed. “I hate admitting it. He is.”
“He is.”
“So go.” Victoria squeezed her arm. “Have fun. Text me the location. Keep your phone charged. Don’t let him feed you anything that stains.”
Sophia smiled. “That is oddly specific.”
“I care about clothing.”
“Yes, you do.”
When Sophia got home, Constance had left tea on the counter and a sticky note on the mug.
Finish your paper. Then panic. Sophia laughed.
She took the tea to her room, changed into pajamas, and sat at her desk with her laptop open.
Her paper waited. She wrote three paragraphs.
Deleted one. Rewrote two. Checked her notes.
Tried not to think about lemon cookies. Failed.
At midnight, she finally finished the last paragraph and saved the file twice because technology couldn’t be trusted. Her phone buzzed.
Vinny: Not too late to cancel if tomorrow feels like too much.
Sophia stared at the message. Her chest did that full thing again. Not pressure. The opposite. She typed, deleted, typed again.
Sophia: I finished my paper.
Vinny replied almost immediately.
Vinny: Hell yes, teach.
Then a second message.
Vinny: Sorry. Is hell all right in academic celebration?
Sophia smiled so hard her face hurt.
Sophia: It is acceptable in this case.
Vinny: Right. Proud of you.
Sophia looked at those words for a long time. Proud of you. He didn’t say nice, now you can focus on me. He didn’t make the date the reward. He was just proud. Sophia set the phone down, then picked it up again.
Sophia: I don’t want to cancel.
His reply came slower this time.
Vinny: Good. I don’t want you to either.
Another.
Vinny: Public park. No pressure. I’ll send the exact spot in the morning so you can send it to Victoria and your mom.
Sophia laughed. He knew. He knew.
Sophia: Thank you.
Vinny: Bring comfortable shoes.
Sophia stared at the message.
Then laughed so loudly Constance called from down the hall, “Sophia?”
“I’m fine.”
“Is it the boy?”
Sophia closed her eyes. “Goodnight, Mom.”
Constance’s door opened.
Sophia whispered, “No.”
Her mother said from the hallway, “I only wanted to say I agree about the shoes.”
Sophia dropped her forehead onto the desk. Her phone buzzed again.
Vinny: Did I say something wrong?
Sophia lifted her head, still laughing.
Sophia: No. My mother also said comfortable shoes.
Vinny: Your mother is wise.
Sophia: She will love that.
Vinny: Don’t tell her I said it until after she likes me.
Sophia read the message twice. After she likes me. As if meeting her mother someday was possible. Not tomorrow or soon maybe. But possible. That should have scared her more. It did scare her. It also made her feel warm.
Sophia typed:
Sophia: Goodnight, Vinny.
His answer came back fast.
Vinny: Goodnight, Sophia.
Her full name, careful. Respectful. A little too sweet for her to handle at midnight.
Sophia plugged in her phone, closed her laptop, and looked at the outfit hanging on her closet door.
Jeans. Cream sweater. Comfortable shoes on the floor beneath it.
Tomorrow, she was going on a date. A real date, a date-date, with Vinny.
She was still scared. But when she climbed into bed, the fear had company now.
It came with lemon cookies, comfortable shoes, and room to choose.