Chapter Text
“You two checking out?”
“Yeah, we—wait.” Keefe and Sophie shared a look. It was the first time they’d met each other’s eyes since… you know, and there wasn’t any awkwardness regarding the conversation they still hadn’t had yet, because… “Stina?!”
“Yeah. Me. Hi.” Stina gave them both a look, like, duh, it’s me, are you slow? Except…
“We’re more than four hundred miles past the hotel you work at,” Sophie pointed out. “Unless we took a wrong turn?” She looked uncertainly over at Keefe.
Keefe pulled out his phone frantically. “Nope, we’re in the right place,” he confirmed.
“College is expensive,” Stina pointed out, like it explained everything. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to get the money. Now are you two checking out?”
“Uh, yeah.” Keefe dug out his wallet, and Sophie did the same, once again noticing how inexpensive everything was. Was he doing that for her sake? Stopping at inexpensive places because he knew she couldn’t afford the types of places he was probably used to?
That was… kinda sweet.
“So… any more tea I should know about?” Stina asked slyly, her smirk almost seeming eager. “Should I assume you stayed in your separate rooms?”
“Yes!” Sophie yelped. “Why are you—don’t ask for the tea!”
“Gotta entertain myself somehow.” She rolled her eyes, waving them off as they slid her their keys. “You guys are good to go.”
“Do you get from job to job in a private jet or something?” Sophie asked, still trying to figure out how Stina worked at both this hotel and the other one.
Stina raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “If I could afford a private jet, would I be using it to commute to multiple hotel jobs?”
“I don’t know, but how are you—”
“Come on, Sophie,” Keefe interrupted, “we’ve got to hit the road.”
Sophie looked back over her shoulder at Stina as the two of them left, still trying to puzzle her out. “Maybe I’ll tell you how I do it if you give me the details,” Stina suggested, gesturing between the two of them with a smirk. Keefe pulled her through the doorway before she had a chance to tell Stina that would not be happening.
“Obviously she has magic powers or something,” Keefe said, but he was wearing his unserious face, which was good. Unserious face meant it would be easier to bring up the thing they seriously needed to talk about.
It also meant he didn't actually think Stina had magic powers, which was good. If Sophie was considering maybe starting a relationship with him, knowing he wasn’t insane was a good place to begin.
Neither of them said anything else as they packed their luggage into the back of his car. That probably meant their next conversation was going to be That Conversation, and she was still trying to think about what to say.
—
Keefe wasn’t expecting Sophie to bring it up when they first got in the car. In fact, he’d been expecting hours of silence for him to think about how this was one of those reasons he should not have kissed her. Though… technically she kissed him right?
Did it even matter? He was still the one who’d brought it up.
It was great, though. She was a seriously amazing kisser, and he would not be opposed to doing that again. But they needed to talk about what everything meant, and he was expecting Sophie to avoid the topic like the plague—which was why it surprised him when, as soon as he’d gotten them onto the interstate, she piped up, “Are we going to talk about last night?”
Keefe almost said What is there to talk about? before mentally catching himself, realizing how that would sound. “I mean… is there something you want to say?” Not better! He was really off his game, wasn’t he? Talking to girls was usually easy. It was one of his key traits!
“Oh, so you don’t want to talk about it then?”
“What? That isn’t what I—”
“You just want to pretend we never kissed? Is that it?”
“What? No!” Keefe shook his head violently. “That’s not it at all, Sophie.”
“So why don’t you have anything to say?”
“Uh, I’m still working on that part,” Keefe said truthfully. “So how about you go first? Okay? That’s all I meant.”
Sophie gave him a side-eye he probably deserved. “Okay. Fine then. I like you a lot. You’re a nice guy and you’re very good at making me blush with your silly little… comments.” Keefe smirked on instinct when he realized she was blushing again now, and wondered which of his flirtatious remarks she was remembering. “And I kissed you because I wanted to, and you wanted to, and it seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’ve always said I was the type of girl who wouldn’t do any of that with somebody I don’t want to actually be with, and that’s the part I’m stuck on. Because I don’t really know you. You won’t tell me anything. You won’t even tell me why you’re going to New York, or acknowledge that you like art, or anything. You’re majoring in pre-law, but I’ve never even heard you talk about the subject before! So to go from there to thinking about you being my… that’s the part I can’t get past. Anyway.” She let out a breath, her ramble coming to a close. “That’s what’s going on in my head. Your turn.” She turned to him expectantly.
Well. That was a lot of words.
And one word he was almost certain she’d almost said, which was “boyfriend,” and she’d avoided it. Which made sense, considering everything else she’d said.
“Well?” Sophie prompted.
Shoot. What was he supposed to say now? He hadn’t really thought about it, and he’d made out with plenty of girl’s he’d never actually spoken to again. But he definitely didn’t plan for that to be the case with Sophie Foster. Something about her, from the moment he’d first seen her, had always been different from the other girls he’d known—and not just because she was at least ten times more attractive than any of them. There was something about her that he really liked. It was a deeper feeling, and it fluttered inside his chest whenever she did things, even when she was being annoying on purpose.
“My old foster dad lives in New York,” he blurted out. He kept his eyes focused on the road, telling himself it was for safety reasons and not because he was intentionally avoiding seeing Sophie’s reactions. “Elwin. He stuck with me through all the hard stuff when I was a kid. He was going to adopt me, too, before Cassius Sencen realized he needed a PR boost, and figured adopting a kid was the easiest way to get that. So… now I’m a Sencen.”
“Is that why you were surprised by the DNA test results?”
Right. Sophie knew about those.
Keefe couldn’t decipher Sophie’s tone and wasn’t about to risk looking over at her face. But he supposed this was his moment of honesty, so… “Yeah. I wasn’t expecting them to be my parents. They’re not supposed to be my parents. And now I hate them because they abandoned me, and I hate them for taking me away from the father that was actually going to love me, and I hate them for being horrible parents and it’s just all these extra levels of hate.”
He’d always wondered. Why him specifically? Out of all the other kids in need of a home, why someone who was already about to be adopted?
Because he was his kid. Of course.
“Ever since those results came in, I’ve wondered if this was the plan all along. Give up the kid, let someone else raise them, and then play the role of the kindhearted adoptive family. The good rich people who use their money for good purposes like raising a kid from a hard life. Doesn’t matter if it is, anyway.” Keefe swallowed. “Everything is harder with them.”
“Wow,” Sophie breathed. “I… had no idea.”
“Yeah, well, that’s my fault. I didn’t tell you.”
“You didn’t have to. I’m sorry for pushing. And… I’m sorry all of that happened.”
Keefe finally looked over at her, and he was surprised by the look on her face. It wasn’t the familiar expression of pity he’d seen on the faces of social workers and regretful foster families and group homes and judges and anyone he let close enough to see his real life. But she did look like she was seeing him for the first time, and a little angry, like she wanted to swing a metal bat at someone.
Hopefully his father. Or his father’s things. Or his father and his father’s things.
“And… I draw as an escape. I always have. I’ve had the same sketchbook since I was eleven. One of my foster parents bought it for me. Three times shoplifting and they ‘weren’t equipped to handle my needs’ anymore. But it was a great gift.”
“Why were you stealing things?”
He hadn’t meant to tell her that part. His rambling was getting a little out of control. At least she just sounded curious. “I don’t even know. It’s complicated. I always hoarded things as a kid. Went through a few pretty bad foster homes and all. That family wasn’t bad, I was just messed up. And I didn’t want to be good.” That part hadn’t fully rubbed off, really.
He still didn’t want to be good. It made him feel too vulnerable.
“Well, I think it’s super cool that you draw,” Sophie offered, and she sounded completely genuine. “And I assume you’re telling me things because I said I didn’t know you that well, and…”
“And that if you knew me better you might want to try a relationship? Yeah. That might have something to do with it.” Was he navigating this well? He wasn’t sure. This was the part he’d never really done. This part involved some small aspect of commitment, which wasn’t really his thing, but goodness, he was willing to try with her.
Her lively and eager personality. Her sly side and the blackmail still stored on her phone. Her Earth-shattering natural kissing skills. Solid girlfriend material.
“Well… thank you for sharing,” Sophie said. “And I do feel like I know you better now. Thank you.”
“Know me well enough to kiss me again?”
“Maybe after you take me on an actual date,” Sophie suggested, and Keefe felt his smirk slide back into place, pulling back up the walls he’d let down for the past few minutes, though it was different now that he’d let her see behind them.
“Hm. Guess I have to ask you out on a date, then,” he said slyly. “You free tonight?”
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”
“If you’re free.”
“I’m going to be in a car with you either way.”
“You’re free then? Perfect!”
“Hotel doesn’t count as a date.”
Keefe gasped in mock offense. “I wasn’t going to suggest that! I figured I could take you out to dinner. What’s your favorite restaurant?”
“Olive Garden, but don’t we have to—”
“Perfect! Tonight, at the Olive Garden. I’ll pick you up at seven AM this morning.” He winked at her, and she laughed, and Keefe figured that was probably the best that conversation could have possibly gone.
He’d shared a lot of things he hadn’t planned on sharing.
But for some reason, he didn’t mind her knowing. It was one of those unexpected things about Sophie.
