I descended the stairs to join everyone for breakfast.
“Honey, come and see this,” my mom smiled as she looked at the bouquet of flowers. My mom has always loved gardening.
“They look pretty, Mom,” I said and took a seat after saying good morning to everyone else at the table, except for Antonio, whom I ignored.
After finishing his food, Antonio and my father left.
“Antonio told me about last night,” my mother began.
“Mother, please, I don't want to talk about it,” I said, biting into my French toast.
“Remember little Billy?” my mom asked.
“Oh come on, Mom, don't start,” I said. Can't believe her. Billy was a boy from the neighborhood; he would pull on my hair and spill my juice, but when it was Valentine's Day, he gave me a card. Turns out he thought being mean to the girl you like
