Pacific Bell High

> XXVII <

It had been quiet at the table during breakfast—then again, it always had been throughout Martin's eighteen years of life.

His mind wandered over what Daniel had said about his wife missing him. How could she hide that from me? He thought to himself. Her family still loved him—they still believed in Ciara and Martin getting back together again!

Oh Ciara. . . He thought to himself as he picked up his glass of orange juice. You will be with me again. I swear on it.

"Martin." He heard and his mood went straight to the floor. He placed his glass down and continue to dig into his breakfast.

"Son. I am speaking to you." Gabriel had said in a hard tone; he didn't stop from cutting into the eggs. Even with his full attention still on his plate, he continued to irk Martin.

Martin looked up towards his mother, who sat there with her eyes on her lap and food untouched, then sat up and looked towards Gabriel.

"I've heard that Ciara and you are no longer together." He announced, and Martin breathed out harshly through his nose.

Camille's head shot up to look at Martin in worry, then looked over at Gabriel in slight fear. Only she had known that Ciara and Martin did not date. There had been a reason behind it.

The reason happened to be the man at the head of the table.

"I expected that rumor to be false, but the lips that they had come from happened to be Daniel's." He continued.

Martin turned to look down at his breakfast, suddenly not in the mood to eat anymore.

"You're a fool, Martin. A goddamn idiot for breaking up with her." He continued as he continued to eat his breakfast—as if they were having a casual conversation.

"It's not like I'm not trying to win her back." Martin had tried his best to refrain from using a harsh tone. He knew how his father could get, and he really did not want to deal with him so much in the morning.

Gabriel let out a booming laughter. He turned to look at Camille, who flinched away and looked down. Martin gritted his teeth as his father began to sober. "Camille! Why aren't you laughing with me?" He laughed again and shook his head quickly. "Do you hear this one?"

Gabriel turned to his only child. "Martin, look at me."

After Martin failed to do so, Gabriel chuckled again. "You can't even face me because you know how much of a failure you are right now. 'Try'?" Gabriel's carefree expression quickly turned into a hard one. "Trying is not an option. That girl has got a father that can make all of the damn hotels I'd want and has enough connection to make sure I'd pay no cent. You get that girl back if it's the last thing you'd do, Martin. I'd never allow for someone to run away from me. Learn from your father."

Martin wanted to harshly let out, 'Because you take them forcefully. She's scared of you—she doesn't want to be with you.'

But he couldn't. He looked up at his mother, who's eyes never moved upwards, then pushed his chair back. If he was to say something like that, he'd spark his father's anger and he'd lash out on his mother.