Chapter Text
Five in the evening is usually the bodega's rest time, the hour where everyone is either at work or resting up or preparing dinner and only a few stragglers stop by the little shop. Sonny has his feet propped up on the counter, flipping through the day's newspaper in desperate search of updates on the world beyond Washington Heights. Normally, Pete would stop by, throw a few words around with Sonny, ask him what he’s up to, but he’s nowhere to be seen today. Sonny is trying to occupy himself in the dead hours between work breaks and the end of the day. What he really wants is good news: with all the crap in the world, taxes and strikes and homophobia and anti feminism and Donald Trump, Sonny wants more than anything to be the one to put a good headline in there. "Young, poverty-ridden activist speaks out against world issues". "Young activist from Washington Heights passes bill allowing free dogs for all". Cheery stuff.
He sees an ad in the classifieds: "Artist needed to spray paint mural on a wall on 172nd. $250 for the wall." He grins and makes a mental note to tell Pete about this: he can't wait to see Pete's smile at the prospect of a job. He can picture it, in his mind, a slight upturn of his lips, his eyes deliberately pointed at the ground as he says thank you, because even being friends for as long as they have can’t take away Pete’s pride.
There's a quick rap on the window of the bodega, and Sonny whips his head up quickly, expecting Pete, and jumps out of his seat, only to breathe in relief (and maybe a little disappointment) when it's only Nina.
She gives him a half-grin and walks in, the door chiming to announce her entry. "Ay, you startled me," Sonny says, raising his eyebrows at Nina. "What can I do ya for?"
"Well," Nina says, her voice suggesting something mischievous. She leans across the counter. Sonny resists the urge to either jump back or lean closer. "I was thinking," she says in a low voice, "I could use that slushie rain check now."
Oh.
"Of course, no problemo," Sonny says, too quickly, and flashes her what he hopes is a winning smile before turning around to prepare two slushies. His heart is racing. Does this count as a date? No.
No
, he chides himself. Nina is with Benny now. More than once, Sonny has had to slap himself to stop himself from hating Benny. It's not as if he had a chance anyway. It was always going to be Benny, Sonny knows that. Still, his hopeful fifteen-year-old brain can't help but dream.
He's told Pete about his crush on Nina — “Well, actually, I’m in love with her,” he’d said once, and Pete had chuckled half-heartedly, slapped him on the back, wished him luck, and then excused himself — but Pete doesn’t seem to care all that much. In fact, every time he mentions Nina, Pete’s smile lessens. Sonny has stopped mentioning Nina. He hates erasing that smile from Pete’s face.
He slides one of the finished drinks across the counter and takes a sip of his own. Delicious, tart yet sweet, and above all refreshing. Sonny smacks his lips. "Ahh."
Nina takes a drink of her slushie. "Damn, that is one good slushie," she says incredulously. Sonny blushes.
"Well, you know me. Always experimenting. So, what brings a lovely lady such as yourself to a place like this one at a time like now?"
Real smooth.
Nina chuckles. "Benny had to run an errand for dad downtown, and I didn't feel like joining, so I thought I'd pay a visit. Where's Usnavi?"
Sonny bites down his jealousy and answers good-naturedly, "At Vanessa's. He spends a lot of time there now, if you catch my drift." He waggles his eyebrows and Nina giggles.
"Sonny! Get your mind out of the gutter," she admonishes, but there's no real anger behind it and they both know it.
"How've you been lately?" Sonny asks, truly interested. He hoists himself up with ease, seating himself comfortably on the countertop, and watches Nina sip her slushie thoughtfully. She's so pretty that Sonny feels like he'll faint. There's a pink blush across her cheeks from the heat, giving her face a delightful glow, and her hair is pulled back in an infrequent yet elegant ponytail. She looks like a princess, really.
"I'm doing well, all things considered," Nina answers him thoughtfully, jolting him back to reality. "I mean, after Abuela... And the idea of Usnavi leaving, which scared me,
even though I know that's unfair because I'm leaving too — and Benny starting his own business, which is off to a shaky start but it's not sputtering out yet, and Vanessa moved but she's not too far, so I think, in the grand scheme of things, I'm —"
"In love with you," Sonny blurts out. His eyes widen comically and he throws a hand up over his mouth. An image of Pete, shaking his head, flashes momentarily in his mind. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice muffled. "I don't know where that came from."
Nina looks over at him, and then does the worst thing: she starts to laugh. Honest-to-God, pure laughter, and if Sonny wasn't so confused and frustrated, he would find it beautiful. Instead he crosses his arm over his chest. "What, what's funny?"
Nina immediately sobers up, and she says, "Oh, Sonny. That's very sweet, and one day you’ll make someone very happy, but you're not in love with me."
That isn't the answer he thought he'd get, nor the one he was looking for. "What? Yes, I am. I've been in love with you since I was like eight," he says, affronted. He’s not a big fan of having his feelings not only rejected but invalidated, by the object of his affections, no less.
Nina chuckles, then gets serious. "No, Sonny. Let me tell you what it feels like to be in love."
She puts down her half-finished slushie and pulls herself onto the counter across from him.
"When you're in love," she begins slowly, like she's trying to think hard about what it feels like, "you want to sacrifice everything you have just to be with the person you're in love with. When you've got them, you don't let go. You don't give them up for anything. You think about them always, even in the most mundane tasks. You go shopping, you think of them. You eat dinner and you think of them. Yeah, other things matter, but even when you're doing what you love the most, you wish it was with them. They could be 4'2" and look like a troll, but when you're in love, that stuff doesn't matter. And," she finishes, "you feel it here." She presses a slender finger into Sonny's chest, above his heart, and gives him a soft smile. "You're great, Sonny, but you're not in love with me from there. You're in love with me" — she taps his cranium twice — "here. All logic points toward the idea that you should be in love with me, so you latched onto that. But it's not something you can reason through. Being in love just happens, and as much as I love you, Sonny, you aren't in love with me, trust me."
Sonny thinks this over. “But...but you’re so smart, and beautiful, and kind — what’s not to love?” He feels strange defending himself: he should just drop it and move on. He didn’t make a complete fool of himself. He should be grateful. But something about what Nina has said is grating at him, rubbing him the wrong way, and he’s beginning to feel upset.
“That’s very nice of you to say, Sonny, but you’re just picking the ideal traits for a partner, the most basic things you can find, and applying them to me, and that’s not love,” Nina says. Her smile is sympathetic and Sonny hates it.
“Hey, that’s not true! I think you…” Sonny racks his brain but he’s drawing a blank in terms of knowing anything personal about her life. It strikes him that they haven’t talked like this, heart-to-heart, in awhile. “I think...you’re always right,” he finally surrenders, sighing sadly.
Nina rubs his arm comfortingly. "Don't worry about it, Son'," she says kindly. "You're only young, you have plenty of time to fall in love. Don't rush it."
Sonny hates being told he’s
only young
, like fifteen-year-olds don’t fall in love. He bites back his retort, though, and instead exhales in acquiescence. "So everything I've told myself — and Pete, too — about how much I love you — that's all just noise?"
Nina tilts her head curiously. "Mm, yes." She opens her mouth as if to speak again, but seems to think better of it and leans back, silent. Sonny doesn't push it.
His cheeks burn. "Well, sorry for, uh, sayin' I'm in love with you."
"Hey, it's fine," Nina reassures him. "Seriously, don't worry. This stays between us unless you want to tell someone else."
He thinks of Pete again and imagines his breathless laughter as he recounts this embarrassing moment. Something stirs inside his stomach, and like an electric shock, he sits upright and leaps off the counter.
"Holy shit," he mutters, and to his surprise, his hands are shaking.
"Sonny, you okay?" Nina asks, sliding off the countertop and watching him with concern.
Sonny takes a deep breath and looks at Nina seriously. "Nina, will you watch the bodega until I get back? I won't be long. I think. I hope. Please? Thanks, you're the best!" And he races out of the store before Nina can answer.