After scolding me, she continued with the class. I felt the eyes of several students on me.
Including Sophie's, who had turned slightly. When our eyes met, she gave me a small, understanding smile.
[She notices your nervousness] [Interesting…]
The next sixty minutes were torture.
Every time I looked at the clock, it seemed like only one minute had passed.
10:15… 10:23… 10:38…
Professor Romano talked about specific performance, about cases where monetary damages were not sufficient, about contracts involving unique goods.
"For example," she was saying, "if someone contracts the sale of an original Picasso painting and the seller breaches, monetary damages will not be adequate because the painting is unique. The court could order specific performance—forcing the seller to deliver that specific painting."
Finally, miraculously, the clock struck 10:45.
"That's all for today," Professor Romano said. "For Friday, read chapter six on equitable remedies. There will be a short quiz."
The students began packing up their things.
This was the moment.
[NOW] [AFTER CLASS] [PRIVATE] [DO IT]
My heart was pounding so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.
Part 3: The Moment of Truth
Sophie packed her things slowly. She put away her laptop, closed her notebook, placed her Sartre book in her backpack.
I did the same, but more slowly. I needed the perfect moment.
Most of the students had already left. Professor Romano was putting away her materials.
Sophie stood up, slinging her backpack over one shoulder.
It was now or never.
I stood up as well, my chair making a small noise against the floor.
"Sophie," I said, my voice coming out clearer than I expected.
She stopped, turning toward me. "Yes?"
I walked toward her. Three steps. Four. Until I was at an appropriate conversational distance.
Shoulders back. Straight posture. Eye contact.
Marco's words echoed in my mind: "It's just a phone number, brother."
The System's instructions: "Be direct. Be honest."
I took a deep breath.
"I like talking to you," I said, maintaining eye contact. "I enjoy our conversations. Would you like us to keep talking outside of class?"
I paused for half a second.
Can I have your number?
Sophie looked at me for a moment that felt eternal.
Her hazel eyes studied my face. Not with rejection. With… surprise? Consideration?
A small smile began to form on her lips.
"I was wondering when you'd ask," she finally said.
My brain took a second to process those words.
What?
"You've been acting nervous all class." Her smile widened. "I thought maybe you wanted to ask me something."
"I… was it that obvious?"
"A little." Sophie pulled out her phone. "But to answer you: yes. I'd like to keep talking to you."
She unlocked her phone and held it out to me, the screen showing a blank new contact.
"Put your number in. I'll text you."
My hands trembled slightly as I took her phone. I typed in my number, double-checking that it was correct. In the name field, she wrote "Gino Morretti."
I handed the phone back to her.
"Done," she said, typing something quickly. A second later, my phone vibrated in my pocket. "There you go."
I pulled out my phone. A message from an unknown number.
Hi, this is Sophie 😊