"Her Social Worker said that she developed anxiety after what happened to her mother, and stepfather," I heard a smooth deep voice saying through my daze. I recognized that voice to be Emiliano, my eldest brother.
"So what? She has a panic attack and passes out within the first 30 minutes of being here! How weak? She's never gonna make it in this family," another equally deep voice practically shouts.
"Gianni, that's enough! She's not weak, she's just been through a lot," a completely separate voice says.
"Whatever Stefan!" The voice who I now know belongs to Gianni replies.
I slowly started to come out of my haze and realized I was laying on a couch. I blinked my eyes open, and looked around to see 6 pairs of blue eyes watching me carefully waiting to see what I would do next. You've got to be kidding me, they ALL have my eyes? Guess we must have gotten those from our father, as our mother had hazel eyes. No one could deny that we are related though.
"Alessandra, look at me," I snapped my eyes to the direction of Emiliano. His eyes flashed an emotion I didn't recognize, but my best guess was maybe concern, but soon flashed back to emotionless, one I assumed was his normal face. "Alessandra, how do you feel?"
"I'm fine. Thank you."
"She's so polite? Where did we get her from again? No 13 year old talks like that! And where the hell did that southern accent come from?!" I looked to see a very tall, very angry looking man staring at me.
Well that was kinda harsh! I'm from the south, we are taught to be respectful and polite. Guess they wouldn't know anything about that here in the big city.
"Matteo! Don't talk about her like she's not here. It's good that she is polite, as we don't tolerate disrespect in this house," Emiliano calmly and coldly said to who I'm assuming is my 18 year old brother, Matteo.
"What happened?" I asked confused as to why I was laying on the couch. The last thing I remember was being introduced to Emiliano, and nothing else.
"You had a panic attack and passed out Tesoro," I looked towards the source of the kind sounding man, and found another very tall, blue eyed male looking at me with the most concern, "I'm Luca, your third eldest brother."
Oh finally! A nice one! After hearing the others talk, I thought they must all must be mean. But Luca looks to be the nicest one so far. I think he's my 22 year old brother.
"It's n-nice to meet you, Luca," I can't believe I keep stuttering. I've never done that!
"You as well, Tesoro. We are ALL so happy to finally have our sorellina back home." Luca is probably gonna be my favorite.
"Well lets get the introductions out of the way then. I'm Gioffre, and this idiot is my twin brother, Gianni. We are 16, and very glad that you are back home," Gioffre said with a crazy smirk on his face. I couldn't quite tell if he was genuine or just being sarcastic.
"Speak for yourself Gioffre!" Gianni yelled at him. Guess he's not happy that I'm here. Ouch!
They are most definitely twins. They look identical from head to toe. The only difference I can see right off the bat is that, Gianni seems angry and hateful, while Gioffre seems to be a joker, more playful.
"Gianni! Damn go somewhere else, if you wanna be such an asshole," Luca yelled.
With that, Gianni took off up stairs and never looked back.
"Anyway, I'm Stefano, your second eldest brother," yet another tall blue eyed man looked at me with kind eyes. He was my 25 year old brother. I think he may be another favorite.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Alessi," I smiled back at him.
"Alessandra, you are Alessandra," Emiliano said with a deep sigh.
"Oh right. Sorry," I replied looking into Emiliano's eyes full of nothingness. He definitely has resting bitch face down pat.
"Emilio, we don't always call you Emiliano. Why don't you let her use a shortened version of her name? My name is Luciano, you call me Luca," he defended me.
"For now, until she gets used to the name, she will be Alessandra. When we all get more acquainted, and feel comfortable around each other, then we can start using nicknames. Is that clear?" Emiliano looked at me with the most authority I've ever heard from anyone in my life. I suddenly found my hands way more into interesting than this conversation.
"Yes sir," I immediately surrendered.
"Alessandra," Emiliano pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down, as if to calm himself down. "You do not have to say 'yes sir' to me, I am your brother."
"I'm very sorry Emiliano. It's just that I'm from the south, we always say 'yes ma'am' or 'no ma'am' and 'yes sir' or 'no sir'. We are taught to respect anyone older than us from an early age."
"No need to apologize, just understand that you are not required to say that. But we do appreciate the respect. Now, so far you have met, Stefano, Luciano, Gianni, and Gioffre. This is your brother Matteo. He's 18 and is a senior in the school you will attending. Along with Gianni and Gioffre who are sophomores."
"Hey," Matteo said, and walked out towards the kitchen. He didn't seem pleased at all for me to be here.
If I'm being honest, I'm not exactly pleased to be here myself. I definitely won't fit in, with my too large shoes and my 3 outfits with holes in the shirts. The three older men of the bunch were all dressed impeccably in tailored Armani suits with shiny black leather shoes, and their nice hair cuts. With expensive watches and chains hanging on their necks. I look like a complete bum. I'm so embarrassed to be a part of this family, because they all look too good for me.
Mom and Jason never had money for clothes. I was lucky to get a good meal every other day or so. Mostly I lived off ramon noodles, crackers, and store brand pop tarts. Any actual clothes, I would get, I would usually find in dumpsters or at the goodwill shop. At my old school, no one would talk to me or be my friend because I was just a poor girl, shy and timid. I was always scared to talk to other people. And the ones who didn't feel sorry for me, made me a laughing stock. Always pointing out my torn clothes, my messy hair, and my ratty shoes. It was a lonely life, but it was the only life I knew.
"Uh gentlemen. She hasn't eaten lunch yet, and Chef Antonio made lasagna for everyone," Lauretta suddenly interrupts my thoughts.
"Good," Stephano looks at me, "are you hungry tersoro?"
"Yes sir. Thank you," I reply sitting up on the couch, while Stephano reaches a hand out to help me up.
We all made our way into the kitchen, and Gianni came back down stairs to eat with us. Matteo was already sitting at the table, I guess waiting on us. We all sat down, and I ended up between Stefano and Luca, with Emiliano directly in front of me.
The chef placed plates full of lasagna and garlic bread in front of all of us. All the guys dug right in, but I sat there and stared at my plate in awe. There was no way I could eat all of this. My stomach wasn't used to such large meals, but I don't want to seem rude or insult the chef.
I must have stared at it a little too long because the chef spoke up, "It's not poisonous, caro. You are welcome to eat up. Oh, and I am Antonio. It's nice to meet you Alessandra."
This got everyone's attention, and they all looked up at me with curious faces.
"Something wrong with the food, Alessandra?"
Emiliano looks at me with his emotionless eyes.
I looked down at my hands in my lap, and shook my head, no.
"We expect verbal answers in this house, caro, and look at me when you're speaking to me," he said with such authority, I no choice but to obey.
"No sir. I haven't tried the food yet," I said looking Emiliano straight in the eye, and then quickly looked back down at my hands.
"Do you not like lasagna, tesoro?" Stephano asked me.
"I've never had it before," I replied, still staring at my hands.
I heard grunts from all the guys around the table, and looked up to see all the guys staring at me incredulously.
"You're Italian, and have never had lasagna before?" Matteo asked with shock in his tone.
"I'm Italian?" I looked at him like he had grown two heads. I had no idea I was Italian.
Now it was their turn to look at me like I had grown two heads. There was a long pregnant pause, while they all looked at each other, and then looked at me.
Was my mom Italian? Or just my dad? How did I live 13 years, and never know that I was Italian? I always just assumed I was American. My mother never cooked, so of course, she didn't cook Italian meals. What is going on here? It appears that my whole life was indeed just one big lie.
"Yes, Alessandra, you are 100% Italian. You were born in Sicily, and moved here when you were 18 months old," Emiliano told me with a blank look on his face. He was the only one who didn't look shocked at the whole table. He looked irritated mostly.
"I'm sorry. I-I-I didn't know," I stuttered out shakily, as I looked Emiliano in the eye.
"It's fine, Alessandra. I'm sure there are lots of things you don't know about your famiglia. Don't worry, we will teach you all about us, and your Italian heritage," Emiliano sighed. "Now, why don't you try your food, and see what you think of it."
Everyone, including Chef Antonio were still staring at me, as looked down at my very full plate of lasagna, and picked up my fork. Slowly, I put a bite in my mouth, while everyone seemed to wait in anticipation for the verdict. I closed my mouth as all the flavors just seemed to burst and take over all my taste buds. It was simply amazing, and I was suddenly disappointed that I had missed out on this delicious food all this time.
"This is the best food I've had in my life! Thank you so much Chef Antonio! I simply love it!" I said with a huge sincere smile on my face as I looked at Antonio.
"Grazie Tesoro," Antonio said beaming at me.
I just looked at him blankly, as I had no idea what he said.
"He said 'thank you sweetheart'. Now why don't you go ahead and finish your lunch please," Emiliano said.
I simply nodded and continued to dig into my food.
I was about half way through the lasagna, and had eaten about half a piece of garlic bread when my stomach started to feel full. I knew if I continued to eat, I would soon be nauseous. So I just used my fork to sort of move the food around on the plate, and take small bites every now and then. But of course, this didn't go unnoticed by my brothers.
"Why are you playing with your food, Alessandra?" Emiliano asked me, with a look of disapproval on his face.
"Um, well uh. It's just I'm uh..." I was cut off by Gianni.
"Uh uh uh uh. What is it already? Stop trying to beat around the bush little girl!"
I looked at him in shock, and my first instinct was to run out the room in tears, but I would not allow myself to do that. I was a tough girl, and these guys were not gonna see me be weak. No way in hell!
"I'm full." I said rolling my eyes at him.
"Little girl, if you want those eyes to stay in your head, I suggest you refrain from rolling them," Gianni yelled at me.
I just stared at him blankly. Yes, he scared me to death, but I would not show it. I was hoping they would not be able to see my whole body shaking.
"Do you understand me, little girl?" He asked me, and I just nodded my head, and looked down at my lap in complete submission. I was such a weakling. I guess if I wanna survive in this house, I just need to keep my head down, and stay out of their way.
"Verbal answers, Alessandra," he said such disdain in his voice that I really just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.
I looked him in the eye, "Yes sir." I told him, and quickly looked back to my lap.
My head was begging me to ask to be excused from the table, but I was too scared of what they might say, and I didn't want to hear the word 'no'.
"Alessandra, I would like for you to try to finish your food," Emiliano told me.
I gulped, and looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him not to make me. But his eyes were telling me that he was not giving me an option, and there was no room for arguing. So I picked up my fork, and continued eating small bites, until finally I finished my meal, along with the garlic bread.
A few minutes later, I could start to feel my stomach churning, and I had a feeling I was going to be headed to the bathroom. Then it hit me in one gigantic wave, and I jumped out of my chair and ran through the kitchen door, and to the restroom right outside of the foyer in the living room.
I washed my mouth out with water, and found a new toothbrush and toothpaste in the cabinet and brushed my teeth. When I came out of the bathroom, Luca was waiting for me.
"Are you ok, tesoro?" He asked me with concern in his tone, and genuine look in his eyes.
"Yes sir. I'm fine. I'm just not used to eating so much food all at one time," I replied while looking down at my feet.
He reached down with his hand, and lifted my chin, turning my face side to side as if to check to make sure there was nothing else wrong.
"Did Emilia starve you or something?" He asked looking me over. My clothes were baggy, so he wouldn't be able to see my bones sticking out everywhere. "You are pretty small. I can see your collarbone, and your cheeks are a little sunk in."
Gee, thanks. How very observant of him.
"N-no sir. S-she didn't starve me," I defended my mother, who didn't deserve it for sure, I was seeing that more and more each day. "She just didn't have money for food."
"Because she bought drugs," he deadpanned.
"Yes sir," I just looked at my feet, ashamed of my mother. She was their mother too, but it was obvious that they didn't claim her, and had bitter feelings towards her.
"I'm very sorry that you had to live that way. You will no longer go without eating. You will be well taken care of for the rest of your life," Luca said with what looked like, maybe love, in his eyes? I'm not sure because it was gone almost as soon as it arrived.
"Ok. Well, Emiliano wants to see you in his office right away. He has some things he would like to discuss with you," he said while reaching for my hand, "I'll show you to his office."