Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

“Don’t worry, Izzie!” Amelia shouts coming to a stop in front of Izzie, spreading her arms wide and moving side to side. “I’ll protect you!”

I raise a brow, turning to Clay and smirking. “It’s like that, is it?” I ask, grabbing the packet of flour discreetly. “Boys against girls.”

“Girls are the best!” Izzie shouts, coming from behind Amelia with her hands on her hips. “We beat boys, alll daaay long!”

I chuckle at her facial expressions before slipping my arms out of my jacket and rolling the sleeves of my shirt up.

My movements are slow and measured as I take stock of where Amelia and Izzie are looking; giving away where they’re going to run.

I lean closer to Clay, whispering, “You get Amelia, I’ll get Izzie.”

“On it,” he replies, his face serious and full of determination as he swipes the packet of powdered sugar off the counter.

I whisper-count to three before we both jump forward, chasing after them both. They squeal, trying their hardest not to get hit as they flail their arms about and weave in and out of the kitchen furniture.

Clay misses Amelia three times, getting more on himself than anywhere else before he finally manages to get a little on her.

I let Izzie think that she’s won, but as I’m about to strike and give up the game I’m playing, my foot slips on some errant flour and my arms flail about beside me, the flour spilling out of the packet and causing a flour tornado to surround me.

I cough and splutter against it, not able to quite catch my breath. The flour starts to clear and I spot all three of them as they all stand stock still, watching as I crash to the floor.

My back lands with a thud and I squeeze my eyes shut for a millisecond before opening them and watching the bag of flour in the air, heading right for my face in slow motion.

I groan, knowing that I won’t be able to move quickly enough before it splats me. I close my mouth and eyes, preparing to be covered and just as it hits me, something wet does too.

“Oops.” Amelia giggles and I open my eyes to see her standing over me; Clay and Izzie on the other side, each with an egg in their hand.

“Don’t you—”

Their arms reel back and I bring my arm up to my face as they slam the eggs on me, yolk and slimy egg white running all over me and mixing in with the flour, making one big gooey mess.

My dry cleaner is really going to have a field day with this, but I don’t care, because all that matters is the laughter that fills the kitchen; laughter that is much needed, laughter that I will cherish.

I jump up suddenly, causing them to all squeal and back away. My arms come out and I capture Amelia, rubbing the flour and egg combination all over her as she chuckles so much she snorts.

“Tris!” she shouts as I lift her over my shoulder, smirking at Clay and Izzie.

I ignore her as I step toward the back door and fling it open. “I think you should wash all of this flour off.”

Two sets of footsteps follow me out into the backyard and over the grass as I make my way toward to the pool.

“Don’t you dare, Tristan Carter.”

I throw my head back in a laugh, coming to a stop at the edge of the pool. “You started it,” I say.

“Tris…”

I pull her off my shoulder, throwing her into the pool but she doesn’t let me go and I go barreling into the freezing cold pool beside her.

“Oh!” My breath catches as I watch the flour and egg disperse in the water, turning it from a clear blue to a murky blue.

“Serves you right,” Amelia says, snorting and swimming to the side.

“Damn.” I shake my head as I watch Amelia stand next to Clay and Izzie who are snorting with laughter.

This is what I needed today; to have fun and rid my mind of the constant warring thoughts that swirl inside of it daily.

I drop the paintbrushes into a pot and hang them on the metal rod over by the easels, standing back afterward, admiring them appreciatively.