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AMAYA

15 Years Old

" E mmett, can we please just go back inside?" I'm being a brat, I know it, but I would so much rather go lay on his couch and take another nap.

"No," he says over his shoulder.

I glower, annoyed, and I may stomp my feet through the garden beds a little until I realize what I'm doing. My eyes prick with tears again at the complete disrespect to John's garden.

Like Oli and Sam's parents, Emmett's have been nothing short of sweet, yet here I am disrupting their flower beds. John takes so much pride in his ability to provide herbs and produce for their family. For years, he's taught me and Emmett all about the stuff he's planted. Rich, Emmett's other beta dad, lights up whenever he sees us out here.

Gosh, the love Emmett's family radiates is… it's beyond words. I miss Nana. Bitterness and depression are so hard to fight off lately, but I can't take it out on anyone else.

Being around Em lately is unnerving. He's just so dang calm all the time, and all I want to do is cry. Or scream. Maybe break something. Like I just did to the poor pea plant.

I don't realize I'm grumbling and sniffling until Emmett whirls around, forcing me to stop my careful steps. "Pick, Maya."

"Pick?"

He raises an eyebrow at my confusion and points to the beds of mint. I try to tamp down my annoyance. I really do, but this is not what I want to be doing. "Em..."

"Come on." Settling on his knees, he reaches up and tugs on my sweaty palm. "Just sit with me at least. Please?"

His eyes melt me until my butt settles in the dirt beside him. Earth and fresh mint flood my senses while I zone out and Em forages some stuff for his dads.

Time ceases to exist except for the occasional summer breeze forcing breath into my lungs. Why did you leave me, Nana?

Nothing is the same and it won't ever be again. I used to love going home and now… I fear it. Will I get yelled at or talked down to? Maybe I'll be insulted or accused of something or other. No matter what I do, it's wrong. I deserve my mother's wrath. It's because of me she drinks herself into a spiteful rage.

On the nights she doesn't come home, it still freaking hurts. The quiet is nothing but a horrible reminder that the one person who loves— loved me unconditionally is gone.

Heat tickles my chin until suddenly I'm no longer staring at the blurry clumps of dirt and am looking at a blurry Emmett. "Amaya?" he whispers.

A sob explodes from my lips that I didn't even realize were trembling. "I—" Choking on emotion, I can't get a thought out, let alone even figure out what broke me just now.

Em opens his mouth, making me freak. "NO!" I gasp. "It's not okay. Don't tell me it's okay!"

Everyone keeps telling me it's okay. Okay to be sad, to cry. But it's NOT. I'm fifteen. I shouldn't know this level of heartbreak. It's unfair I've been born into a life without a dad and a mother who doesn't love me or even like me, and the one family member I have is dead. DEAD.

"IT'S NOT OKAY!" My fists clench and slam into the ground beside my knees, making me crumble even more. "No no no no no," I mumble, pushing the dirt back to where it was. John's flower beds!

"Amaya—"

"NO!" I cry, dirt digging its way under my nails as I frantically try to fix what I've broken. But what's the point? Everything is broken. I have no family. Nobody who cares if I go home. Nobody who cares if I'm okay.

Words trickle through the overwhelming panic of loneliness, and they are… everything .

"You're right, it's not okay," Emmett whispers with a hand on my knee, grounding me to the here and now. My shoulders loosen. Finally someone understands me. "But the garden is."

A shocked laugh bursts from me, and I slap my dirty palm over my mouth in awe. When was the last time I laughed?

"I certainly don't mind the dirt on your face either," he teases with a grin and a swipe through the tears, turning my cheeks to mud. "But I'm not about to pick all this by myself, so come on, hop to it, Rose. No more playing in the dirt."

Normal . Emmett makes me feel normal.