image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/5e60dd9d-681a-46ec-9443-cc8a2f2a6dc6/0_1.png]

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"Movie or dinner first?" Regina asked. It was, finally, a proper date night after two weeks of coffee, tea, and sandwiches. The previous Saturday, they had only a quick pizza at Garcia because Regina’s parents left town the next day, and she spent some time with them. Now, they were finally out together without a time limit and had negotiated that she would pick the movie and him the restaurant.

Peter stopped to think for a second. Girls liked artsy-mushy stuff, so chances were he would be bored out of his mind. At least they could end the night with good food. "Movie?"

“Yey!” She took Peter by the arm, and they walked on the charming streets of the little New England old town until they reached a small art cinema. The French picture wasn’t as bad as he expected; it was a romantic comedy, but Peter was so tired from chasing jackalopes all the previous night that he fell asleep. He even snored softly, the System informed him sourly. The AI enjoyed the movie a lot, though, expressing joy through messages that started with happy emojis.

After they left the theater, it was Peter’s turn to lead, and he escorted the girl to a nearby French restaurant.

“Nice. French movie, French food!” Regina giddily said.

Browsing the menu, Peter noticed a very expensive wine. One of the best. It was marked: only one bottle left aside and cost two thousand dollars.

“How does this look to you?” he showed it to Regina.

“Excellent!” she grinned. “Let’s spend Uncle Marius’s money.”

Peter ordered the wine without second thoughts, and she helped order the food, speaking in French with the waiter. They both picked the onion soup and lamb chops. While they ate, they chatted about music and other hobbies but did not go into details.

"Are you French Canadian?" Peter asked toward the end of the meal.

"Cajun, but we moved around a lot."

"Nice… I mean, Cajun is a cool ancestry."

"I suppose," she shrugged. "And what about you, mister mysterious stranger? No one here knows much about you. You like keeping under the radar."

"I'm from across the border—"

"Canada?"

"Vermont.”

“Hm…” she creased her nose. “C’mon, tell me more about you,” she leaned forward, grinning, “Centurion Mucius Porcius.”

“Which means Silent Boar,” Peter rushed to remind her.

“What made you go into reenactment? Is it a passion?”

“Passion?” Peter giggled. “More like forced labor. My parents are into re-enactment and HEMA. They have a thematic summer camp, and I had to help around. It’s a lot of hard work. My folks barely make any money from it.”

“Why are they doing it then?”

“They enjoy it,” Peter shrugged.

“And, do you? Enjoy it?”

“The Centurion part, yeah… The Pirate shows and the Wild West, so-and-so. I was always the villain.”

“No!” she frowned. “That’s unfair!”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Tell that to my Dad. He’s playing the hero… I had to pretend to chew and spit tobacco every single day… We had a concoction to replace it… sage and other herbs… If we were in a bar, I’d bet you twenty bucks I could spit in the bull's eye of the dart target from ten feet.”

Shut up. Go to Kostel. Shoo!

“You’re very funny,” Regina stated. “Mhh… this is so good…” she took a sip of wine, leaning back on her chair, eyes closed. Then, she smiled at him warmly. “Funny and considerate. I feel safe near you. Thank you.”

“S-sorry?” Peter almost gasped.

“Having patience with me, taking it with baby steps… Surrounding me with warmth and… I don’t have a proper word… comfort? I feel you really care for me. Every day, I look forward to meeting you.”

Peter sulked. For the last two weeks, he had tried to be as boring and bland as possible, trying to make her relegate him to the friend zone. Every day, he woke up promising to phone and tell her he was too busy to have a coffee or they should stop seeing each other. And he had failed to say the words… deep inside, he felt the same, looking forward to the half an hour of seeing her.

I wonder if her parents tried to break us apart or hook up together? I became addicted to her… and we barely touched or kissed…

“We should go, it’s late,” Regina sighed. “I have a lot of study.”

“Sorry?” Peter asked.

“We must learn hundreds of new exotic plants for that field trip we’re preparing for.”

“Oh…”

Peter nodded. He had been through a daily mandatory physical training session too. "The bill, please. Cash," he raised two fingers to call the waiter, preparing the envelope.

As the message arrived, Peter’s lateral vision noticed a silhouette exiting behind the nearby park’s trees and running toward the restaurant. He summoned his pistol in his hand, a feat now available due to the last few days of training, keeping it under the table for the time being but accelerating his reflexes and physical performance. Moments later, the restaurant’s door slammed against the wall, making the restaurant's patrons jump up.

“I’ll pay!” a man blurted, pointing at Regina’s and Peter’s table.

“Uncle Marius?” Regina exclaimed. “Are you stalking us?”

“Never! I was just passing by and… err… noticed you two…”

“You were supposed to leave!”

“Helene asked me to stay behind to… err… take care of a gig.”

The girl slapped the table. “What gig? Keeping an eye on me?”

“If you don’t mind, can you take this outside?” the waiter said imploringly.

“I’ll pay the bill. Card,” Marius said.

“But I have to redo the bill.”

“Then redo it!” Marius frowned. Slightly panting, he sat at their table and served himself with the last bit of wine remaining in Regina’s glass. “Sorry… so thirsty… good stuff…”

“Here you are, sir,” the waiter produced the new bill and a card reader. “Tip is not included.”

“I’ll pay the tip,” Peter offered, sending his gun into storage and putting two fingers inside the cash envelope.

Marius was certainly a multitasker, as he caught Peter’s hand while gasping at the paper in his left hand. “Two thousand bucks for a bottle of wine? C’mon! It was good, but not that good.’

“You’re supposed to keep it in your mouth and chew on it,” Peter sneered.

“Let Peter go.” Regina blurted, almost yelling.

“That’s a rip-off. No tip,” the man said, waving his card over the machine and typing in the code. “I’ll escort you to the college.”

Marius pulled Peter after him, and Regina followed after throwing two hundred bill banknotes on the table.

“Stop!” she yelled angrily at her uncle once out of the restaurant. “How dare you—”

“The money’s fake,” Marius said in a deadpan voice, releasing Peter’s hand. “It’s sort of a Monopoly money for some crazy rich people. I won it at poker.”

“Then why did you try to bribe me with it,” Peter asked.

“You don’t think I was going to give ten grand to an asshole who would have taken cash over my priceless niece, right? If you had taken the money, I would have kicked your ass.”

“You mean you would have tried,” Peter shook his fist before Marius’s face. “You’re lucky I don’t like to punch retirees.”

“I’m forty-five, punk!” Marius showed Peter the middle finger.

“Why haven’t you said anything?” Regina asked, shoving the two men apart.

Marius turned his palms up. “I forgot… Sorry for the intrusion…”

“We’ll walk home on our own, and I forbid you to follow us,” Regina said categorically, taking Peter by the arm.

“Good night, princess,” Marius nodded and left.

There was no garbage can in the vicinity, so Peter discreetly dismissed the money into storage, pretending he was putting the envelope in his pocket. It must look weird that I’m always carrying this backpack around… Whatever… It is what it is… He let go of his thoughts, concentrating on the matter at hand. Her hand, fingers interwoven with his. Peter found the walk back to the Campus too short. They stopped in front of her dorm, each a lack of words.

"Thank you, it was a lovely evening," Peter said.

She remained in place, staring at him. Gathering his courage, Peter took her in his arms, and they exchanged the most intense kiss to date. Afterward, Regina giggled, her face and neck flushing, and ran inside the building. Peter waited until the door closed before walking back to his dorm, feeling drunk, half from the kiss and the other half from the good wine. He was starting to feel his plan to push Regina away was going down the drain quickly.