Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

“She is that.” I walk over and kiss Amelia on the top of the head. “Where’s Dad and Maya?”

“Your father will be back in around fifteen minutes and Maya is probably in her room on her darn cellphone.” She rolls her eyes and turns toward Amelia. “I don’t know what it is with teenagers and cellphones but it seems to be permanently attached to her hand.”

Laughing softly, Amelia replies, “I can barely send a text message on mine. Izzie can work it better than I can.”

I chuckle. “Speaking of teenagers, I’ll go and get the one festering in her room.”

I wait for a nervous reaction from Amelia but when it doesn’t come and she swats me away, deep in conversation with my mom, I walk over to the door only to turn around and watch the scene in front of me play out.

Amelia laughs at something Mom says and answers her back animatedly. Gone is the nerves and in their place is the bright and bubbly personality I’ve come to know. Mom catches my eye and gives me a slight approving nod before winking. It’s like she knew what I was thinking.

I slowly will myself to stop staring and push through the door, taking the stairs two at a time and walking to Maya’s room.

Knocking on the wooden surface of the door, I ask, “Maybug, can I come in?”

I hear rustling before a voice shouts, “Yeah.”

I walk in but she doesn’t look up from the guitar in her hands so I walk over and sit in the armchair opposite her bed. “Hi, Nate. How are you? Oh hi, Maya, I’m great thanks. How are you?” She rolls her eyes but continues strumming a beat on her guitar. “Nothing? Nothing at all for your big brother you haven’t seen in a while?”

She smirks and finally looks up at me. “It’s only been two weeks, not much could have changed since I last saw you.”

I lean forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. “Actually, they can and they have.”

She hums before saying, “That so?”

She stops strumming her guitar and makes a note on the notebook in front of her as I answer, “Yup.”

Sighing heavily, she looks up from the notebook. “Is dinner ready? Is that why Mom sent you up?”

“Not yet.”

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She raises a brow. “I have to finish these lyrics, I have an end of semester talent show coming up.”

Maya has always loved music, as soon as she steps onto a stage, she lights it up. She has a low, raspy voice that’s so different to her speaking voice you’d never believe it was her. “Yeah?” I walk over and sit on the bed in front of her. “Show me.”

She nervously fiddles with the corners of the notebook. “It’s not done yet, but okay.” She clears her throat and strums the guitar. From the first note, I’m captivated up until the very last. “Obviously it’s not finished yet and—”

“Maybug, it’s beautiful.” I stand up and walk over to the door. “You’re going to be big one day; mark my words.”

“That’s the plan, big bro,” she replies before putting her guitar back on its stand.

“I erm…” She looks up at me with expectant eyes. “Not sure Mom told you but I’ve brought my girlfriend with me.”

She splutters the soda she began to take a sip of. “Your girlfriend? You have a girlfriend?”

I chuckle, half offended. “Yes, I have a girlfriend. Why do you sound so surprised?”

She walks into her en suite bathroom, coming out with a towel in her hand as she cleans up the sticky mess on her face. “You’ve never had a girlfriend before.”

“I had one that one time,” I deadpan.

“That one time? Wow, my brother has serious game issues.”

“One: I’m not talking to you about that. I have plenty of ‘game,’ thank you very much. And two: would you just hurry your ass up so you can meet her.”

Throwing the towel into her laundry hamper, she turns back to me. “What’s her name?”