Page 66 of Hot Girl Summer

“Oh?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because you’re a party girl.”

“Fact. But I’m willing to sacrifice my party girl status to make this work.”

Smiling, he reaches for my hand across the table, holds it, and says, “I’m really fucking proud of you.”

The comment turns my insides to mush, and I’m overcome with emotion. Shark week must be looming.

“So, does this have anything to do with Danny, by any chance? And don’t you downplay it. I can tell when you’re lying.”

My smile broadens. “I really like him.”

“But?”

“You said it yourself—I’m a party girl. What if he thinks this is all just a bit of fun? I know the kind of vibe I give off.”

I stare at the warped pink coffee art, but I can feel Stefan pinning me with those deep blue eyes. “What’s really in your heart?” he asks, he can see right through me.

“This whole thing with Belle...it’s complicated. I’m glad Danny finally opened up to me, which I know can’t have been easy for him, but I can’t seem to let go of the tiny bit of fear that still has a hold on me.”

“Honey, we all have self-doubt sometimes, it’s what makes us human. How boring would life be if we didn’t take a leap of faith once in a while? You are Sophia fucking DeLuca. Who are you?”

I sigh. “Sophia fucking DeLuca,” I say, quietly.

“That’s right bish, and don’t you forget it.”

“It’s just...I feel different with him. Like it could actuallybesomething. It’s not even about sex. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m intrigued to find out what it would be like if the way he kisses is anything to go by.”

My skin flushes a similar shade to my latte, and a wide smile creeps across my face. I haven’t divulged to Stefan the exact location of where Danny’s lips had been, and I don’t need to.

“But I have to respect his boundaries.”

“There’s a Swedish proverb my mother always says: ‘those who wish to sing always find a song.’”

I smile at the beauty of his words, and he glances at his watch.

“If you want to make this work, you’ll find a way. Anyway, I have to go to work. Make sure you eat your salad; it’s starting to look like a saggy ballbag."

I grimace, and push the plate away. Stefan pecks my cheek and squeezes my shoulder. “I just want to see you happy, it’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. Don’t you think you deserve it?”

A beat later, he’s gone, leaving me with the remnants of my sad, uninspiring salad and his question replaying in my head. My phone chimes, snapping me away from my thoughts.

Mum never calls this early in the day.

“Mum? Is everything okay?” I ask, a little concerned. She usually saves calling me until the evening, right before she catches up on the soaps.

“It’s Kiki. I don’t know what to do. Every time I try to talk to her, she lashes out. She’s hysterical.”

I can tell from her muffled voice that she’s been crying. My heart breaks at the sound of my mother’s words. I loathe that the woman who’s always been there for my sister and I sounds so helpless, when she’s always been so strong.

I'm not sure I can go through this again.

The pounding of my heart drowns out the background noise of the coffee shop. I know I have to step up and be the strong one this time. Kiki’s diagnosis almost ruined our family the first time round, and I’ll do everything in my power to prevent it from happening again.

“It’s okay, Mum. Take deep breaths.”

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