Well, this is just great. I moved out here to Italy to get away from the melodrama and here I am minding my own business while doing a favor for a "friend". And that's a term I use loosely. Then, all of a sudden I'm finding myself joining an Italian...
A waiter approaches the table with a serving of strawberry cake. "Thank you for waiting. Here's your strawberry cake."
"Set it there." A teenager of above-average height, medium build and large black irises points to the food trolley left at his group's table while continuing to read the book in his hand. He dons a uniquely shaped headgear with a diagonal grid pattern and the front shaped like an arrow pointing downward, a turtleneck crop top cashmere sweater with a design similar to his hat, and tiger striped-leather pants.
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A third young man, flanking the dark-haired teen's side at the table, sighs. His build borders between slim and average with spiky, orange hair with his large bangs going down the right side of his face. He wears a two-piece suit filled with holes on the sleeves and legs and has a watch on his left wrist, a belt to support his pants and a tie with a strawberry pattern. His shoes have the same strawberry pattern on the front of them.
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"Listen, Narancia." He sets his hand on the messy-haired boy's shoulder. "You're amazing. It's hard to ask someone to teach you something when you haven't really even been to grade school." He encourages, like he's talking to a child. "But you even learned your multiplication tables! You can do this. Just do as I've taught you. You've got a good head on your shoulders." Fugo leans back in his chair, holding up a notebook with a simple multiplication equation.
16 x 55
"Okay, ready? What's six times five?"
"Six times five...Six and five..." Narancia suddenly sits up straight, looking his tutor right in the eye. "Thirty?"
Quite pleased that his pupil got half the answer right on his first try, Fugo smiles proudly. "Correct! See? I knew you could do it! You're basically halfway there!"
Narancia shares in his tutor's enthusiasm. "I see! Six times five is thirty! Okay!" He takes his own notebook and begins jotting down part of the answer before continuing on his own for the remainder of the equation.
"Hey, what's the deal with this?!" The crop-sweater, arrow-cap wearing member of the group drops his book and pushing himself abruptly out of his seat in bafflement at the cake that was just brought to them, eyeing the pastry in utter horror.
