Royally Falling

~ 25 ~

"Who do you love, do you love now?
I wanna know the truth (whoa)
Who do you love, do you love now?"
Who Do You Love - The Chainsmokers

oOoOo

(Kaden's POV)

On the first weekend of the second semester, I am forced to go back home.

It's my sister's eighteenth birthday, so my parents want to celebrate with our extended family.

I tried convincing them to have her party a week earlier, so I wouldn't have to come back so soon, but Sophia whined like usual.

Of course, my parents let the whiny bitch have her way.

Normally, I would love spending time with my family, but there's so much going on at school this weekend.

My friends are having the beginning of the semester party to get smashed. I wish I didn't have to miss out on the free booze.

Not to mention, I have only seen Kate a few times since break ended. I just want to spend some time with my girl.

Call me whipped, but I haven't seen my girlfriend in over a month and I'm going through a withdrawal.

"Kaden, get over here!" I hear my mom's shrill voice from the kitchen.

I escaped the madness of setting up for the party, but I guess she found out I went missing.

At least I got twenty minutes of peace and quiet.

"Fine, I'm coming," I shout, sending one last Snapchat to Kate.

I meander down the hall, wasting as much time as possible. The longer it takes me to get to the kitchen, the less time I will spend getting yelled at.

I don't even know why my mom makes me help cook when she knows that I will just fuck it up. I can't even make toast without burning it.

When I finally get to the kitchen, I see my mom and grandma cooking like maniacs and frantically speaking in Italian.

There's been a lot of conversations in Italian in our house lately since my grandparents are temporarily staying with us. They live in Italy but usually stay at our house from December to mid-January.

"Kaden, vieni a preparare l'insalata," my grandma shouts, forgetting I don't understand Italian. (Translation: Kaden, come make the salad)

I think she said something about salad?

"English please."

"Make the salad," she says. "Don't give me that attitude." She whacks my arm with her spoon.

Attitude? Since when is asking someone to speak in English giving an attitude?

I get to work washing the lettuce and cutting the vegetables.

She turns to my mom and asks, "Isabella, perché non insegni l'italiano ai miei nipoti?" (Translation: Isabella, why aren't you teaching my grandkids Italian)

"Non è colpa mia se sono pigri e non vogliono imparare," my mother replies with a scoff. (Translation: It's not my fault they're lazy and don't want to learn)

"Sì, è colpa tua," my grandma huffs, while shooting me a dirty look. (Translation: Yes, it is your fault)

What did I do now? Did I not cut the cucumbers correctly?

When I finish with the salads, I'm told to watch the pasta boil.

I finally get a task that I can't fuck up.