It was dinner time... finally. Earlier, when my parents were toasting a glass of wine with Nole’s boss, I had used the distraction to run up to my room and draw. My solitude hadn't lasted too long, as my mother called me for dinner not even a half an hour later. Somehow, even the aroma of pasta didn't tempt me enough to enjoy my current situation. "So, Jude," Nole injected after a short pause from the earlier conversation, "how is school going? Still getting good grades?" My mother answered. "He's doing fantastic, aren't you, Jude? Top of your class." I nodded dubiously. "You just said it mother." With my fork, I played with a stray noodle, watching as it sprang across my plate like a grasshopper. "Fantastic…" This was so boring. All I wanted to do was go up into my room, listen to music and draw. As the minutes rolled by, I was getting more annoyed that my parents insisted on calling Nole’s boss 'Mr. DeLuca' instead of his first name. But then again, it wasn't as if the man wer
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