Part II - Chapter 19

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One month.

It's been one month since we have moved to Italy. I wish I could say it's been a fabulous thirty-one days but the truth is most days were pure agony.

The only sensible brothers in our house had to go deal with the mafia. Those said sensible brothers are James and Henry.

They left me with Xander, Noah, and Roman almost everyday the past month and the three of them were so close to getting strangled, by myself.

When you are immobile and need to be carried everywhere you want to go, that means you have basically zero alone time. Especially when you have helicopter brothers.

There has been so many times where all I wanted was to leave the room because they would start arguing or wrestling and they always made me ref.

The worst part is if we were in the living room, and they started wrestling each other I could not leave. No I would have to sit there and wait for one of them to be done just so they can move me to another room. But then they would just follow us into the next room.

I wanted to strangle them.

But now we are chill. I can officially walk and the calm and reasonable brothers are back home. The house is more quiet. Just the way I like it.

I have been calling and texting with Deja and Jade almost every other day. They have both been settling in and exploring where they live. They've been catching up with old friends and have rejoined school.

I spoke with James and we both agree that I am better off getting homeschooled. Which is fine I mean I don't dislike my brothers or anything so it's not like I need an escape by any means.

But the real kicker with this whole homeschooling thing is my teacher. Totally unexpected and when James told me he was going to teach me I thought he was making a very unfunny joke.

But no.

So, now here I am sitting at the kitchen table with my teacher who is grading my math test that he said is a fourth graders level.

"Daisy how did you mess up this bad?" Roman questions me confused at my lack of math skills. I groan and drop my head on the table.

Yeah that's right. Roman is my tutor. Not Dad, not Henry, not Noah, no it's Roman.

My supposedly dumb brother who can hardly spell is teaching me math. When Dad told me he was going to tutor me I thought he was joking around. So I started laughing, but when I saw his serious face I realized he was serious.

Turns out Roman isn't so dumb after all. Apparently he's whip-smart and when he graduated two years before I came to live with them he had a 4.0 gpa. I didn't even know what a gpa was until Henry told me.

What I am saying about Roman right now might sound a bit... mean? But when you sit next to this smart ass all damn day just for him to question how I failed my ten year old level math test I can get a bit... what would you call it? Salty?

"Daisy what's eight times three?" He asks me going through my multiplication test.

Okay, so eight plus eight is sixteen, plus eight is... add four to sixteen that's twenty, add the other four that's twenty four.

"Twenty four!" I exclaim excited I got it. Roman softly smiles at me before nodding his head.

"Okay, what about eight times seven?"

Oh for fucks sake. What does this dork think that I'm some sort of math whiz?

I'm trying here, I am trying so damn hard but I just can't pick it up. I try everything, I count on my fingers, I do subtraction which I learnt last week, I try to memorize and yet I can't figure it out.

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