JENNIFER
My mom and me set the dining table the next morning for breakfast. I felt better after spending almost the whole night with Mom and I have not yet spoken to Luca. Last night, when Mom came out of his room, she had looked sullen and had returned the tray back to the kitchen. When I had asked her what happened, she had smiled and said Luca had dinner before coming back. I had known she was lying, but I kept quiet.
As we set the table, Luca came down the stairs all dressed in skinny jeans and a white t-shirt. He did not spare us a glance as he made his way towards the door.
"Luca, come eat breakfast," Mom called.
Instead of Luca to answer, he entangled the headset from his neck and wore it, blocking us out. I watched him as he went out of the glass door, feeling annoyed and frus
