Maya (Book #3)

Chapter 34

The next day, I woke up early. My head was feeling normal for the time being, so I went down to the kitchen to find some food. I was digging through the pantry when I heard someone come walking in behind me.

"Ahh," I said, whirling around to face the threat and grabbing a bag of Doritos to protect myself. Brooks looked me up and down and laughed, as I threw the bag back into the cabinet. He was dressed in his usual exercise clothes, wearing dark shorts and a tight black shirt that showed off his muscles. His hair was curled and poufy this morning, not hanging down over his eyes like it sometimes did. 

"I didn't think it was you," I explained, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I noticed," he said with a teasing face. He grabbed the keys to the car from the wall and then began walking towards the door before turning back around.

"Want to go get breakfast with me?" he asked, giving me a little smile. The sunlight streamed into the room from the window as he spoke, and suddenly today felt full of possibilities.

"I'm not technically supposed to be leaving the house..." I said, giving him a look that begged for the opposite.

He laughed and thought about that, brushing his chin with his fingers. There was a scraping noise as his fingers rubbed the stubble on his chin.

"I don't think your uncle is going to be chilling in a coffee shop, do you?" he asked, conspiratorially. I jumped up and down, clasping my hands together.

"I quite agree!" I said, recognizing an escape. I needed to get out of the house for at least a little while.

"But still," he said strictly, putting on a parental tone I didn't know he had. "Let's cover you up a little."

He grabbed a baseball cap that was sitting on the counter and threw it to me, attempting to conceal my identity. I lifted it up and shoved my hair up into it with a grin. It fell out in sharp spikes that made me look like an anime character.

"You look like a boy," he said with a laugh.

"Wow, thanks," I said, giving him a pretend glare.

He pointed towards the door, and I ran out in front of him, leaping into the front seat like I had been trapped here. He started the car and we drove down the driveway, into the light.

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He hooked up the Bluetooth on his phone and a male artist with a melodic voice began coming through the speakers. (A/N Finneas) There were instruments layered behind his voice that I couldn't make out, as he sang an unfamiliar beat. Brooks sang under his breath and his volume grew as the song came to a crescendo, making me smile at him. He turned from the road and froze when he saw me watching. 

"What?" he asked defensively.

"You actually sing really well," I said, with a shrug.

"No, I don't," he dismissed, thinking I was making fun of him. He steered with one hand and the other sat comfortably on the armrest as he kept his eyes on the road.

"You do!" I challenged, bringing my legs up onto the seat. I grabbed Damon's sunglasses from the middle compartment in the car and threw them on as we merged onto the freeway. I knew he would never let me, which made it significantly more enjoyable. They were dark and massive and probably helped my disguise, anyway.

"Thanks," he said dryly, still thinking I was making fun of him. "What kind of music do you like?" he asked as he fiddled with his phone to find the playlist he desired.

"Um, I kind of like sad music," I said, realizing that it was true. Music that was slow with lyrics that felt personal was much more significant to me.