Work Text:
Tammy sat in the dining hall, looking at the decorations. It was Valentine’s Day, but it was a Tuesday. People had their date nights the weekend before, but some people still were giving each other flowers.
“Is anyone sitting here?”
She recognized the voice. “Anthony? I didn’t know you came here for lunch!”
“I admit it was a bit out of my way, but you told me your morning class was next door, remember?”
She had told him her class schedule, that was true.
“Well, please, sit down!” she insisted.
“So, do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?” he asked.
“I can’t say I do,” she admitted. “What about you?”
“Well, I was hoping you might like dinner at some place nicer than this tonight, what do you say?”
She smiled. “That sounds lovely.”
“I have class in twenty minutes, but what do you say I meet you in front of your dorm at six?”
“I’d like that,” she said. “I’ll be ready.”
The rest of the day felt both too fast and too slow, but she got herself dressed and ready and stood just inside the entrance to her dorm at 5:55, just in case he got there early.
He showed up at six on the dot.
“Well…” she said, expectantly.
“A rose?” he said, handing her a red rose, with the thorns removed.
“Thank you, it’s lovely.”
“Do you like Italian food?”
“Of course!”
“It’s a short walk from campus, I hope you don’t mind.”
He offered his arm, and they walked off campus to a small restaurant.
“What do you recommend?” she asked as they looked at the menus.
“Well, what I like and what I order in restaurants are two different things. My mother’s best dishes are never quite right at restaurants.”
“Is your mother Italian?” she asked.
“Both my parents, actually.”
“Is it rude if I say that you don’t really look Italian?”
“No, not really. I’m probably not actually Italian, in fact.”
“What?” Tammy had to laugh.
“Well, I was adopted,” he admitted.
“Oh,” Tammy said. “So you really don’t know?”
“No, and honestly, I don’t really care. My parents got me when I was a few days old, so it’s all I’ve ever known, but they weren’t secretive about it. So, yeah.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it was a few weeks before Christmas, so she likes to say I was her Christmas present. It would sound cheesy coming from anyone else, but it’s sweet coming from her.”
Tammy tried to think of something to say. It seemed awkward to pry too much, though.
“But, so, you know your Italian food?”
“Absolutely. We lived in a very Italian part of Brooklyn, so lots of that.”
“Why don’t you order for both of us, then?”
“Happy to do that!” he said, and waved over the waitress.