TONY: Book 1 of The De Luca Brothers Series [COMPLETED]

40:

"Eek! Road trip with my baby boy!" Squeals Morgan right next to me, causing me to regret my decision on taking her and go partially deaf.

I look down at her short stature and roll my eyes, "Morgan, shut it."

"Hey!" She shoves my shoulder. "Don't kill my vibe!"

We're currently in a queue to board the coach that heads directly to my hometown; it'll take around three to four hours, since we're setting off at nine in the morning, we'll arrive for lunch. Morgan is wearing her hair up in a messy bun, a navy and white striped romper with a pair of sandals, rucksack and duffel bag. I'm wearing a hoodie, joggers and trainers with my small suitcase being pulled behind me.

Morgan whips out her phone at alarm speed and hits the camera icon, "Cheese!"

I'm pretty sure I grimace, blinking in utter surprise as Morgan squeals in excitement; I'm only praying that she calms down before we reach home. The line shuffles forward and eventually I scuttle onto the coach, flashing my ticket and awkwardly hauling my case behind me. The coach is an unattractive red and yellow, where the yellow is more beige and the red is a sickly shade; a prominent old smell resonates around the air, my nose wrinkles and an exasperated sigh escapes my lips. Now, I'm not trying to sound remotely spoiled, but I'd throw myself off a cliff just to be with Toro right now, in his beautiful sports car, singing along to music.

"Let's sit near the back," Morgan commands, not giving me a chance to object. The back is the worst place to sit, since past people have probably messed around due to not being in the eye of the driver; Morgan shoves me onto a seat and places our bags into the overhead carrier.

"I should probably do that," I mumble, looking amusedly at her struggling. She succeeds and gives me the stink eye.

"Don't be so damn cheeky, not all of us are blessed vertically," She grumbles, collapsing next to me. "Why does it smell so much?"

"You were eager to climb aboard two minutes ago."

"Exactly," she looks at me. "Two minutes ago. Before I saw this horrific coach which has a strange smell."

"Are you still excited—"

"Yes," she forcefully snaps. "I just hope I have an appetite after this."

The coach ride goes positively smoothly, apart from the occasional snore or the woman with the cold, Morgan and I pass the time talking about what we're going to do in the future, where we want to go, sharing our sexual experiences and whatnot.

I stand up with a groan, my joints popping and clicking, relieving the stiffness of sitting for four or five hours in the same position. I take down our things from the overhead carrier and help Morgan fo stand up, the redhead touching her toes before leaning backwards.

"That was fun," she responds sleepily. "I want food though. Lots of food."

I chuckle, "Don't worry, I know a place."

We exit the vehicle and make our way through the station, ordering a taxi to pick us up. Once it arrives, we pile in once again and ask it to take us to a small diner near my house.

We sit in a red booth, grinning at each other. A waitress wearing a short blue dress with a white colour begrudgingly drags her feet towards us, her hair is done in a beehive as her makeup is caked with a red lip. She looks at us before droning in a gravely voice, "What're you having?"

"A stack of blueberry pancakes with extra syrup, a glass of coke and a side of bacon please," Morgan orders, her mouth practically salivating at the request.

The woman sloppily scrawls that across the page, I look at her name tag: Raven. She looks at me expectantly, "You?"

"A large burger with a small fries, a strawberry milkshake and a bottle of water please," I ask.

She nods once, turns on her high heels before yelling at the kitchen, walking behind the bar to prepare our drinks.

"I love it in here! It's like Riverdale but in blues and greens. You never told me how aesthetic it is here- god I'd love to work here. It'd be so much fun!"

"How about you start your own restaurant in the future?" I ask. "You're a people's person. You'd be great at it."

She tilts her head to the side and her brows furrow, "Hm, maybe I will."

The drinks arrive and we share them, the milkshake being as good as I can remember. Another ten minutes and our food arrives, looking heavenly and greasy- but so what? The food doesn't last for five minutes, being on that coach is certainly draining which is ironic since we literally did nothing.

"Are you ready?" Morgan hesitantly asks. "With going back... home?"

I sigh, "It needs to be done. I'm just dreading the nostalgia that comes with it. I'm happy you're here though, I've cried enough times on Toro's shoulder to make a bath."

She pouts, "But he's still with you."

"Yeah, he really is." Even the thought of him causes a smile to light my face up like Christmas. I'm really lucky, sometimes I don't appreciate just how much Tony has done for me, for what I have done for him; it's better because the feeling is mutual. Our passion is a blazing fire, despite how stupid that sounds- I just can't seem to compare it to anything else.

"Damn! You're whipped," Morgan teases, taking out her wallet and paying for our meal. I thank her, but she simply shrugs it off, "I'm really happy for you. Like, I met him once and that was when I was hungover so I was grouchy, but I think he's really suited for you. A match made in heaven."

Rolling my eyes I snort, "Okay, that's a tad too cheesy."

"Yeah," she pauses. "You are dating a gang leader though. Isn't it all about the cliche?"

I laugh, "Let's walk to my house. We can stay there, I have the spare key."

"Are you sure?" She asks. "We can go get a hotel."

"No," I sigh. "It's going to be my last goodbye until I begin to pack things up."

"If I were you, I'd still be a mess. I have no idea how you're so acceptant currently," she whispers trekking down the streets, the warm afternoon sun bathing us in glorious gold, our luggage and rags somewhat ruining the image.

"Toro helped distract me from things, helped me cope. Plus back at college, there was so much gang-related stuff that I couldn't just mope around; Mom wouldn't want it, she'd want me to be happy."

She looks at me, "Gosh! You make me emotional." Tears prick eyes and she smacks my arm. "Bad friend."

"Shut up, lets go to my house. It's right... here."