The restaurant was packed — a buzzing mix of families, birthday dinners, and date nights. The Kalogeras family had taken over one of the largest booths in the corner, just beneath a glowing chandelier and surrounded by towering plants and framed art of old Italian villas. The smells of garlic bread, pasta, and sizzling steak filled the air as waiters weaved between tables balancing trays of food.

Jake, 14, sat squeezed between his 13-year-old sister Esli and their 15-year-old sister Dana. Across from them were their older sister Dilean, 18, and their mom and dad, who looked like they were already regretting bringing the whole crew out in public.

At first, things were calm. They ordered drinks, made jokes, and even took a group selfie for the family chat. But calm never lasted long with this group.

It all started when the breadbasket arrived. Six pieces. Seven people.

Esli reached first. “I call the last one!” she said, grabbing a slice and eyeing the last remaining breadstick.

Dana raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t even want one earlier. Now you do just because I reached for it?”

Jake tried to stay quiet and focus on buttering his own bread, but Esli wasn’t backing down.

“I was waiting till it got warm! You always do this, Dana. You try to be all chill and then steal the last thing like you’re entitled.”

“Entitled?!” Dana leaned back with a scoff. “Okay, calm down bread queen.”

Their mom shot them a look. “Girls. Stop. We’re in public.”

But it was too late. The bickering continued, breadstick still untouched in the middle of the table like a ticking time bomb.

Meanwhile, across the booth, Dilean and their mom had their own drama brewing.

“I said I’d cover the tip,” Mom whispered, folding the receipt and slipping a card into the booklet.

“You always say that,” Dilean said, grabbing the bill and replacing the card with her own. “And then you forget and I end up paying half.”

“I don’t forget, I just—”

Jake leaned back and sighed loudly, watching the scene unfold like it was a reality show.

“Honestly, why do we even go out to dinner as a family?” he muttered.

Their dad, clearly trying to stay out of all of it, sipped his drink and stared at the ceiling like he was counting down the seconds until they could leave.

Back on Jake’s side, Esli and Dana had reached a standstill — both had their hands on the last breadstick, gripping it like it was a championship trophy.

“I’m older,” Dana said through clenched teeth.

“I’m faster,” Esli shot back.

Jake, having had enough, snatched the breadstick, ripped it in half, and tossed each part on their plates.

“There. War over,” he said.

Both girls stared at him, mouths open.

“Did you just—?” Dana started.