RED

5. Apple Blossom

We don't believe in rheumatism and true love until after the first attack.

By Marie E. Eschenbach

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"Buonpomeriggio." A lady stated in Italian, as she stared directly at the teenage boy seated behind the table in front of her. He barely looked up to her as his large cylindrical glasses hung low about to fall off the bridge of his nose from where they rested.

He took one look at her and brought his eyes back down to the little notebook in front of him. His pen stuck mostly between his index and thumb finger. He was physically present, but his attitude said otherwise.

The lady in front of him had a strict look on her face, as she stood waiting for an acceptable reaction from him. Her hands joined together and stayed still in front of her. She couldn't take the silence anymore so she spoke up.

"Say it, Enrico. Repeat it." She ordered him in English, her hand demonstrating as well, while her Italian accent still lingered in her sentence.

Enrico gulped down realising he wasn't doing well and that if he doesn't sit up, he might never hear the end of it.

"B-buon... P-pom... Pomer-ri..."

"Pomeriggio!" She exclaimed, raising her voice a little louder than earlier.

Enrico startled up a bit but never raised his eyes up to her for the fear of getting scolded like in the past.

She sighed.

"What is wrong with you, Enrico!? I'm trying my best to teach you how to speak proper Italian, but you're making my efforts here a waste... We have been going on and on about this very word since this morning and yet you refuse to master it!" The lady vented out all her frustration, before sighing once more as she stared at the teenager boy, who still reacted no different than earlier.

She shook her head in disbelief.

"Is there any problem, Mrs. Francesco?" A woman asked, as she stepped into the room. The Italian accent heard in the other lady was nowhere in hers.

Enrico's eyes widened a bit as he recognised the voice. He carefully looked up to the woman who stood by the entrance. She was slim, a bit curvy and dressed in a peach-coloured flower designed dress. Her black hair was packed into a neat bun. The heels of her shoes barely surpassed three inches but were black in colour. She was adored in a simple set of golden teardrop earrings, a gold wristwatch and bracelet on each hand.

Enrico couldn't bring himself to steady his gaze on her face but when he barely did, she had on a warm smile. He prayed deep down that his worst nightmare doesn't come to surface.

The lady in front of Enrico sighed once more, as she took one more look at Enrico before turning to the woman.

"Enrico is refusing to study. He hasn't been serious with his lessons and he's making me repeat myself. I'm sorry, Mrs. Edoardo but if this continues... I might have to resign. I can't take much stress..."

"Then, resign." Mrs. Edoardo stated, interrupting the lady.

Mrs. Francesco furrowed her brows.

"Excuse me?" She asked, feeling she heard wrong.

"I said you should resign. What sort of a teacher can't tame a student? Enrico is nothing of a trouble." Mrs. Edoardo started, but the other lady still couldn't wipe the confused look on her face.

Mrs. Edoardo turned to Enrico before taking steps into the room, her heels making sounds on the tiled floor. Enrico barely met her eyes. Her eyes looked up back to the lady.