Meet Me Midfield

Chapter 3

“I never stopped loving you.”

- The Best of Me, coming to theaters this Friday

Chapter 3

Talia Walker

Laura had been giving me the stink eye ever since I woke up yesterday and this morning. When I came back two nights ago, she was sound asleep, a trail of drool falling down her cheek. She refrained from talking to me all day, which was so bizarre Mamma had pulled me aside and questioned me about it.

“Did you and Laura fight?”

“No,” I replied. Mamma wasn’t satisfied; therefore she made me sit next to her in the taxi on the way to the Teatro Amazonas, which was our touristic destination for the day.

Throughout the cab ride, my older sister refused to speak to me, disregarding my numerous attempts to talk to her. I doubted that my walk last night was the cause of her silent treatment towards me, it was surely another thing.

Even Luca, who was oblivious to everything that didn’t relate to him, had noticed the undeniable tension.

“Are you fighting with her?” he asked, tugging onto my sleeve in the taxi. His attempt at being discreet was feeble, every passenger heard.

“No, why would we?” assured Laura, patting his knee.

I turned towards her, “Then why haven’t you said one word to me since yesterday?”

“I’m tired, that’s all,” she sighed. At Mamma, Dad, Luca and I’s suspicious looks, she repeated: “I’m okay! It’s baby hormones.”

At this, Dad turned around immediately. No matter how involved he liked to be in the family, the mention of female hormones of any sort made him too uncomfortable around any of us. Luca was too young to understand how the female brain really functioned, but he sided with Dad. When any of the women in the family were having a “shark attack” or a “bloody waterfall”, he refrained from talking to us at all.

The taxi stopped and we all got out, hurrying to find a guide. About five of them were standing in the entrance, conversing with other tourists. I analyzed each of them; old man, middle-aged man with an overly big smile, uptight middle-aged cat lady, smiling fifty-year old woman and finally, a smiling girl who seemed close enough to my own age.

Without discussion, my family and I walked towards her. She turned towards us and gave us a big grin, which with her bright blonde curls, reminded me of bright sunshine.

“Olá! Inglês ou Português?” she asked in a chirpy voice. Italian or not, I had heard enough spanish to vaguely place the words in portuguese as well.

“English,” replied my dad, holding out his hand to shake. She mumbled a greeting and did the same to the rest of my family. She wrote our names on a clipboard.

The guide, Celia, was going to be leaving to start the tour in five minutes. My parents, Luca and Laura sat on a bench during the wait. I stood by Celia’s side, talking to her. She was cheerful and full of alacrity, which brought me joy. I lived with the statement that happiness was contagious.

“I graduated from a Tourism school a few months ago, I’m totally new here,” she said, hints of a Portuguese accent dripping in her words. “I absolutely love this job, so far.”

“That’s great! You’ve got everything figured out for now,” I said.

“Yes,” added a voice that belonged to neither Celia nor I, “Absolutely. This seems like a very fun job.”