Chapter 12: The after

SOFIA'S POV

My hand lingers on the waffle maker when I remember what happened last night.

She kissed me.

I was teasing her. But it didn't feel like it, when we kissed.

Her composure gone.

Her voice softening at the call of the irritating nickname.

Even then, when she sat in that couch, eyes on me the whole night, I felt anything but hate towards.

I was curious.

How immune she would be at the reverse on her own games.

My phone rings the same time Paolo appears.

"Mmh breakfast smells amazing,"

I chuckle.

"It tastes even better,"

I excuse myself, walking into my room to answer the call.

"Hello father dearest,"

He chcukles at the nickname.

"Hey Sofie,"

"I'm almost done with the last design but I already sent the eleven pieces to your assistant,"

"I know, and you're so talented. I wish you'd embrace it more Sofie. The fashion world needs you,"

I pause. Not sure what response would do this time. I love fashion, but It's his legacy and I'm not his biological child to inherit it.

"Maybe after graduation?"

I ask, but not firmly. I'll know what i want when i have no distractions.

"I want you to come to this fashion week and don't say no. It's to honour your mother and the amazing daughter she left behind to continue her legacy, "he says and even I can't say no to that.

I never missed the fashion weeks because I was one of the top designers for the Vescovi fashion line.

Sofia Vescovi, the eldest daughter of Matteo Vescovi was a key element in the success.

I read the articles and one thing was constant, the curiosity of who i was.

What I looked like.

The things I liked.

Who was I dating?

Was I his biological child because the timeline of my parents maarriage and my age didn't make sense.

"I'll be there,"

I reassure him. Voice unwavering and firm.

I reappear back in the living room with everyone awake. I check my watch and it's still early for class.

What happened that night at the party was heavy. But no one around me reminded me constantly of it so I felt brave enough to resume my physical classes.

"Is Castiello still asleep?"

Paolo asks, but rhetorically.

"No. She wasn't there when I woke up,"

I answer anyway.

Something softened in me last night, and the need to defend her actions is automatic now.

"Please tell me nothing happened between you two,"

His tone is serious, analysing my reaction.

I have nothing to hide. I'm an adult and i can handle it.

"We kissed,"

"Whaat!!! You kissed...Castiello? Thee Castiello who doesn't date? You...Sofia Powell, a hopeless romantic, kissed the one person who fucks for fun?"

He shoots up, his voice growing louder with every question.

Mila walks into the room. Her face clearly readable.

A wave of anger overlapped by the urge to scold me.

She heard everything.

"You and Nova did what?!"

If this was cartoonized, the smoke from her ears would have filled the room.

Didn't she want me to get laid?

She didn't specify with whom.

"It was just a kiss. And she kissed me,"

I blurt out. Her face grows red.

It was better before when they thought i did it.

Why were they harsh on her? Did they ever for a minute think that maybe there's a story behind her actions ?

Or one rumour made everyone fit her into a stereotype?

Their respective boyfriends join them, reminding me of my loneliness.

Maybe that's why she joined the game last night.

To help me feel comfortable.

Maybe that's why she kept the conversation she overheard at the hospital to herself.

She respects boundaries.

So how did she wind up with such a reputation?

The front door swings open.

An exhausted Nova walks in. In the same outfit she slept in.

"Goodmorning sunshine," mila starts.

Her tone sarcastic and vicious.

Nova doesn't respond.

Her face unreadable but one thing is evident, she hasn't slept.

Luca gets off the kitchen bar stool and walks over to her but she shoves his hand away, storming to her room and the lock on the door clicks.

What happened? Is it the kiss? Did she really mean it when she said it was too much?

Then why did she kiss me anyway?

Rejection has never been a hard pill for me.

My reminder takes over the silence filled space with everyone looking over to me now.

"What really happened last night, Sofia?"

This time Luca folds his arms closely behind Mila.

Her hands on her sides waiting.

If i knew what I did I'd undo it.

"I have class," I say.

For the first time I felt embarrassed. That I flirted so hard and it pushed her to do something like that.

I don't even know anything about her, and that makes me a terrible person.

I did submit the project but no one knew that it was about the basketball captain, just me and whoever would grade my work.

The cafe was the same.

I hadn't been there in a while but the tiramisus in the fridge felt close to that.

I think that's the first time my attitude towards her softened.

She was attentive, even when her gaze promises disinterest.

Mila didn't even know half the list on my medication prescription, but she was still supportive.

But not Nova. She shows up whenever I need something like it's just pure instinct.

My coffee is placed before me in a to go cup and I just swipe my card.

Then take out a few notes to put in the tip jar.

The stares on campus were more evident. But I didn't bother to find out why. It could have been Nova's hoodie that I wore that day, or the cheerleaders spreading rumors.

I find a seat at the front this time. Mr Lorenzo was giving his comments on the projects.

"I have never been so disappointed in my students. I've taught you for a while and from the looks of it only a few of you understood why film was easier in words but harder in practicality,"

His eyes landed on me.

His expression softened.

Then his lecture began.

Everyone paid close attention.

No murmurs, no unnecessary questions, just ones related to the course outline.

"Miss Powell-Vescovi, a word," he called out. This time the students didn't eye me curiously at the familiarity of the name.

"I know i wasn't as focused and-"

"Your project stood out. I haven't seen anything like that. The way you portrayed the basketball team, especially the captain makes the story even more raw," he says.

But I'm certain there's more to this than my exceptional submission.

"Thank you sir. I've learnt from the best,"

I stand there awkwardly. Was there more?

"I talked to the dean and he would like you to cover the basketball season in a week's time. For the basketball players scouting,"

His tone was neutral. It was easy for me, just editing footage I'll take in the time I'll be filming them.

"Sure,"

"You're really talented Sofia. One day you could be the producer and director of something big,"

His words lingered on my way out. That's how I felt about fashion too.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from an unsaved number.

???: I want to see you

Me: And I want to be the queen of England

???: I'm not playing Tinkerbell. This is important

I furrow my eyebrows at the reveal of who it was.

She's no fun.

I head to my improvisational Acting class, now thinking about how she got my number.

What could be so important she had to text me?

My phone vibrates a couple of more times in the middle of the class.

This time I was presenting.

I excuse myself fishing for my phone in my pocket.

???: I know you read the last message.

???: If I have to take you out of your class.

I will.

???: 10 minutes to be in the Lockeroom.

I read all of them feeling my blood boil.

Who the fuck has her thinking she can tell me what to do?

I take fast strides to the Lockeroom ready to remind her that a kiss didn't mean a hook up.

She should know.