For the Empire - Inganno

Chapter 3

****Enzo better be ready for movie night. He didn't seem like himself today at school, but he always looks forward to Fridays because it's movie night, and my mom always makes his favorite cookies.

I raise my hand to knock on his front door when Mr. Romano's loud, booming voice stops me. His parents must be fighting again.

I knock anyway and hope Enzo is nearby to answer the door. I smile, relieved when I see his face as the door opens a crack.

His black hair usually brushed and styled, is messy and falling over his eyes. Tears are staining his face. His eyes are red, and they widen when he sees me. "What are you doing here, Stella? You need to go home, right now."

I instinctively roll my eyes at him. "You're not the boss of me, Lorenzo." Knowing he hates hearing his full name. "It's Friday, remember? Come over and let's watch a movie. My mom just made her amaretti cookies that you love so much."

"I'm too old to watch movies!" He says.

"You're twelve years old; since when is that too old to watch movies?" I respond, seeing as we are the same age. Well, I'll be twelve in a couple of months, but still.

"Fine, do you want to "hang out"? Is that better?" I ask, rolling my eyes again.

I hear a loud crash followed by some cursing coming from inside, and Enzo snaps his head back to look behind him. "What's going on? Why do you look sad? Where is your mom?" I ask.

Enzo's eyes start tearing up before his face suddenly turns angry, and he shoves me back. "Go home, Stella!" He yells.

I trip over my feet and fall back, landing on the porch floor. I look up at Enzo, hurt and confused. He's never been mean, let alone pushed me in the five years we've known each other since his family moved in.

When other classmates bullied me in school, he defended me and has always been protective of me. I see a flash of pain and concern on his face before he turns around and slams the door.***

BEEP...BEEP...BEEP

I groan as my alarm goes off, and my hand can't seem to connect with the button to shut it off. Finally, finding the on/off switch, the quiet room tempts me to drift off to sleep again.

I shoot up out of bed startled and check the time, letting out a sigh of relief, when I see that I only slept for ten minutes and still have time to shower and get ready.

That portion of the reoccurring nightmare isn't as bad as others, but I'm exhausted nonetheless. And, it probably didn't help that I had decided to eat before going back to bed last night.

I run a brush through my damp hair and style it in a half-bun; I usually don't wear a lot of makeup, so I apply my usual mascara and call it good.

Rechecking the time, I'm glad I have time for a quick breakfast. I scan the room for my books and grab them, throwing them in my bag before running to the kitchen. 

I check my email on my phone as I eat yogurt with granola; it's my go-to quick breakfast when I'm in a hurry.

After I'm finished, I rush to rinse out my bowl, and Carmela, our main house cook, walks in as I walk out, kissing her cheek, my usual greeting to her.

"Where are off to in rush, so early, Charmaine?" She asks me in her broken English.

"I have study group this morning before class."

"Wait, I make lunch you can take with you, dolcezza." She kindly offers, reminding me of how my mom would call me the nickname, sweetheart, as a child, too.