Not a date !
Chapter 53
Sophia
I sit on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at my half-finished paintings and trying to figure out how I'm going to salvage them. Prince is curled up on my lap, snoring softly in his sleep.
I lean down, stroking the soft fur behind his ears with a grateful smile, so thankful he is always here for me.Surprisingly, school today was completely peaceful. Now that I actually think about it, I haven't caught a single glimpse of Lorenzo or Vivien all day.
The only thing currently making my stomach twist into nervous knots is the fact that I have to visit the art hall tomorrow. I have to check if the location is good and big enough for the Calloway's so that the organization team can set up the tables and everything. just like Mrs. Calloway requested.
I looked it up on the internet earlier. It's one of the oldest, most prestigious art galleries right in the heart of the city, apparently holding masterpieces by Rembrandt and Van Gogh.
Underneath my nerves, a small spark of excitement flares up at the thought of admiring those paintings but the dread of standing face-to-face with him quickly smothers it.
He text me the address earlier.
He added a short note at the end, letting me know he would be the one picking me up, adding a stubborn Under protest in parentheses.
But despite his complaining, he is still coming.
Which means I am going to be entirely alone with him.
And the last time the two of us were left alone, things didn't end well at all."
Oh, Prince, why can't you just come with me?"
I murmur with a soft sigh, scratching him behind the ears one last time.
I just hope Lorenzo doesn't bring up last night. I mean, why would he? What does a guy like him care that I was crying my eyes out on a bathroom floor?
The bigger question is whether I should say something about his bandaged hand.Whatever. That can wait until tomorrow.
A quick glance at the clock tells me it's getting late. I gently carry Prince over to his bed and curl up beneath my blankets, trying to force my mind to go quiet.
"Sophie! Maria is downstairs!" my aunt's voice echoes through my bedroom door the next morning.
I quickly yank on my school uniform jacket, grab my bag, and head out. "Yes, I know! See you later!" I call back. And press a quick kiss to her cheek before sprinting down the stairs and jumping into the passenger seat of Maria's car.
"Good morning," Maria chirps, pulling out of the driveway. "Are you ready for today?"
"Ah... I think so. But I have to go to that art gallery with Lorenzo later."
Maria immediately shifts in her seat, throwing me a protective look. "I can come with you if you want."
I offer her a grateful grin. "Thanks, I really appreciate it, Maria." I pause, leaving the heavy but hanging unspoken between us.
"But?" she prompts right on cue.
"But I decided that I need to face my demons alone. I have to stay strong, remember?"
Maria sighs softly but nods. "Okay. But if anything happens, you call me instantly, and I'll punch him in the face for you."
I burst out laughing, my chest tightening with a sudden warmth. I am incredibly lucky to have found a friend like her here.
True to her word, Maria stuck by my side the entire day.
We sat together in every single class, and when lunchtime rolled around, we ate out on the courtyard with James and his friends.
I only saw Lorenzo twice in the hallways.
Even though we both knew we had to meet up later, neither of us said a word as we passed each other by.
The moment school lets out, I head straight home. I promised Clara I would help her finish up the final, meticulous details on the custom outfits she's designing for the Calloways.
"Clara, you really outdid yourself," I breathe, staring at the garments. The tailoring work she has pulled off over the last couple of months is absolutely breathtaking.
"Thanks, sweetie. I really enjoyed designing them, but I'm not going to lie...I'm so happy it's finally over," she smiles, wiping a hand across her forehead. "I desperately need a vacation."
"Yeah, I completely understand."
"So, tell me... when is he picking you up?"
The casual tone of her voice makes my stomach drop. "Don't say it like that," I mutter, standing up to organize the scattered supplies on the sewing table.
"Like what?"
"Like it's a date or something," I reply, tossing a pin cushion at her. "It's our punishment, remember?"
"Oh, right, my bad," Clara teases, a massive smirk spreading across her face. "So, when is your punishment picking you up?"
"In about..."
I pull out my phone to check the time, but the screen lights up with a new message before I can even look at the clock.
"Earth to Sophie," Clara says, stepping right up to my side and peeking over my shoulder at the glowing screen.
"Why on earth would I need to wear something nice?" I ask, a sudden wave of panic clawing at my throat.
"Oh, Sophie, because it's not some crowded student club. It's a highly luxurious, exclusive gallery," she says matter-of-factly.
"But... I don't have anything!" I confess, my voice pitching higher. My grand plan had been to show up in a casual pair of denim jeans and a plain t-shirt.
"I think I might have just the thing for you," Clara says, her eyes flashing with a mysterious, knowing look. She glides out of the studio space, returning a moment later holding a long, breathtakingly elegant champagne-beige gown.
The fabric is a heavy, liquid satin that catches the light perfectly, designed to drape flawlessly to the floor.
"Here...wear this," she instructs, before walking over to another wardrobe and pulling out a pair of matching, delicate stiletto heels. "And these."
Looking at the outfit, a sudden wave of shyness washes over me. I swallow hard, wondering if it's too much for someone like me. "Do you really think I need to dress up this much?"
"Yes, Sophie, I really do. Now go get changed, and I'll help you do something beautiful with your hair," she says, her smile bright and encouraging.
It takes me ten minutes to get ready, mostly because my hands are shaking so badly I can barely fasten the delicate straps around my ankles. Finally, I take a deep breath and step unsteadily back into the studio.
The moment Clara turns around, her hand flies straight to her heart, her breath catching in her throat.
"You look just like her," she whispers, tears glossing her eyes. She steps up behind me, her gentle hands smoothing down my hair as we both look into the mirror.
"I see it too," I whisper back.
My chest aches with a beautiful, bittersweet warmth. For a split second, looking at my reflection in the long champagne satin, it feels like my mother is smiling right back at me through the glass.
Then, my phone buzzes in my palm.
"He's here," I breathe. The panic returns, a loud thrum against my ribs. I gather the long hem of the dress, trying to walk as gracefully as I can in the unaccustomed heels toward the front door.
"Here is your clutch and your phone! Take lots of pictures, and call me the second anything happens!"
Clara calls out, pulling me into a tight, reassuring hug before letting me go into the evening.