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Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

Page 40

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She hides the screen and tuts. “None of your business.”

My hackles go up and I lean closer. “Are they the reason you're wearing makeup?”

“Mooommm! Tell Nate to stop ruining my life.”

Mom swivels to face us and gives me her best stern look while pointing her finger. “Nate, stop ruining your sister's life.”

Everyone chuckles but I'm still not done with Maya. I can't help but be protective over her since she's seventeen years my junior.

“Come on, just tell me who you're messaging. I promise I won't make fun.”

She rolls her eyes and pulls her knees up against the table. “It's no one. He's just a friend.”

“Whoa. A ‘he’?” My gaze flicks over to Dad who is leaning against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. “There's a ‘he’?”

“Apparently so, but your sister is pretty tight-lipped about him.”

“There is no ‘he’!” she shouts before storming out of the room.

“Must you tease her so much? Being fifteen is a hard enough age without having your dad and brother on your case.”

“But… she shouldn't even have a ‘he,’” I say, my gaze running between my parents.

Mom sighs but doesn't say another word as she pours the contents of the pot she was stirring into a ceramic dish. Dad starts bringing them over to the table and I stand to help.

“Go and get your sister, please. I know it's hard to get your head around her being at the age where she's interested in boys, but be nice,” he says with a wink.

“Nice. Got it.”

Making a beeline for the stairs, I take them two at a time, walking down the long hallway to the end room before knocking twice. “Maybug?”

“What?”

I chuckle at her grumpy tone. “Can I come in?”

I wait with bated breath before I hear footsteps and the door flings open. I look around the white room. One of the walls is wallpapered with dusky-pink-and-white-striped paper, the accents in the room all white and stylish. I walk onto the plush cream carpet, it reminding me of Amelia's and smile.

She climbs onto her four-poster bed, picking up her acoustic guitar and strumming it absentmindedly. “Dinner’s ready.” She ignores me. “I didn't mean to make fun of you, but we don't keep secrets, we never have.”

“It's not a secret, I just don't want to tell you.”

I chuckle. “That's a secret, Maybug.”

A slight smile curves up the corner of her lips at the nickname I've always used for her. “He's just a friend.”

I nod, clearing my throat. “And does this… friend have a name?”

She looks out of her window that has a beautiful view of the horse stables out the back. “Jake. But that's all I'm telling you.”

I decide to leave it at that because it's how we work: I push a little until she tells me just enough and then I back off, waiting for her to come to me. And she always does. Even though there's a huge age difference between us, we've always been close.

I stand up and walk over to her door. “Dinner’s ready.”

“You already said that,” she states, standing up and setting her guitar into the stand in the corner of the room.

“Yeah, but I didn't know if you heard me over your big love crush on Jake.”

“Nate!” she shouts as she runs after me, her hand raised in the air.



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