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Tony.
I look at it, confused for a moment, and then I look back at Aria, and then to the kids. There’s a tear in Emma’s eyes. Guilia is rolling hers…
Mattias nudges her. Hard. Almost too hard. Her hip hits the cart and it jars the cake.
“You’re so annoying,” Guilia growls at her brother. He just laughs in response.
The confusion I have is still unwavering. I look at Aria once again. “It’s for you…”
A lump in my throat prevents me from speaking and my vision clouds.
No one’s ever given me a party before.
Of any kind…
“There’s gifts, too!” Tomasso says.
I laugh. “At least there’s no candles…”
“Yeah, we don’t do candles,” Mattias scowls, looking at his sister, before grabbing the knife. “Guilia burned down an entire hall of rooms on her 11th birthday because she’s a dumbass…”
“Language..” Aria warns.
Frankie huffs. “Are we ready to eat yet?”
My stomach continues to gurgle.
“Food sounds nice…”
“Wait!” Tomasso yells. “I want to give him my present!” He takes off running down the hall and comes back, with a skateboard in his hand.
It’s a little overwhelming, everyone crowded around, and everyone yelling, but it’s also…nice.
“Look!” He says, handing me a skateboard. “I built it for you, so you can ride with me.”
I smile. “You actually want me to ride with you?” I ask. Teenagers usually hated adults. I know I did when I was a kid.
“We got you something, too!” Mattias yells, his outburst jolting me. I sit the skateboard down. “We heard you get stressed and like to fight…” he continues, clearly amused. “We figured maybe a massage might be a better use of your time since you’re old and stuff…” He hands me a card.
It’s a gift card for a massage.
I can’t help but laugh. “Old?” I ask.
“Yeah…?” Guilia chimes. “You didn’t know you were old?” Her tone is so stereotypical of a bratty teenage girl, but I actually find it a lot more amusing than Aria does, who is glaring at her murderously.
“Guys, he’s not that old,” Emma grumbles, handing Mattias a slice of cake. “Next time, get your own cake…”
He mocks her as soon as she turns around and I can’t help but chuckle as all of Aria’s babies sit down on the same couch and snuggle closely. It blows my mind how loving they are. They’re kids.
Teenagers.
Teenagers hate their parents.
Teenagers don’t want to hang out.
Yet, here they all are..
Crowded around. Hanging on Aria, draped over her shoulders.
