Everyone has a song that captures who they are. No one but Leila Gonzalez can hear them.
Melodies and tunes fill her head everywhere she goes, and all she wants is to replicate them in her songwriting. There's just one problem: she sucks at songwrit...
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LEILA HUMMED TO HERSELF as she opened the front door to her apartment. Her father lied down on the linoleum floors as her siblings ran around him. Ismael waved around a kind of contraption she knew he had made on his own. Elisa squealed like the five-year-old she was, holding her plastic tiara in place on top of her thick dark hair. The tiara matched the bright pink princess dress she wore.
"The toll monster comes when you least expect him," her father warned her siblings. They ran around him faster, holding in their innocent laughs. Her father took a deep breath and then grabbed onto Ismael's leg, who was the closest to him.
Elisa shrieked, falling onto the olive green couch, away from the 'toll monster.' Ismael screamed as he tried to get away from her father's playful grip. In the end, they both collapsed into each other in a fit of laughter.
"Oh, look who finally decided to show up!"
Leila chuckled as she walked around the apartment, resting her guitar case against the closest wall.
"Hi, Mom," Leila said, and kissed her cheek. "Sorry for being late. I went to Townsquare to try and do something."
Her mother softened, placing her fingers under Leila's chin. "That's quite alright, darling. I was just worried. Mama bear needs to know where her cubs are."
"Relax, Sarita," her father said, coming up behind her. "She's sixteen. She's not a baby anymore."
"She will always be a baby to me," her mother defended herself. Smoke flew overhead, and she shrieked. "Emmanuel, corre! It's gonna burn. Ay, if only you would've been here sooner." She pointed at Leila, who held up her hands in surrender.
Her father yelled as he picked up the burning caldero without any mittens and almost dropped the entire thing on the floor. Fortunately, he found enough strength to bring the caldero to the sink, where it cooled off.
Her mother sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Not again."
Leila giggled and went for one of the colorful plastic plates in their cupboard. "It's okay, Mom. Whatever you made is probably still edible." She waved at her siblings. "Come on, you squirts, before something else burns."
Elisa and Ismael laughed hard as her mother placed both of her hands on her hips, faking hurt with a gasp.
"You little butt," she said, smacking her upside the head with a kitchen towel. Leila grinned as her hair tumbled down her back from its loose bun. "You better eat it even if it's burned."
"When do I not?" Leila asked innocently. Her mother crossed her arms, still holding the blue-striped towel in between her fingers. "Oh, is this what I think it is?"
"Arroz con cebolla," her mother announced. "With too much pega'o..."
"I love pega'o." Her father punched the air in victory, and Leila had to shake her head as he went on to do his little dance. It was worse for her when the dance was in rhythm with his personal song: that tropical breezy melody that transported her to the beaches of the Caribbean.
"Ay, ya," her mother hid her smile. "Now, go on, everyone! Time to eat."
The Gonzalez family sat at their dining table, ignoring their slightly burned rice and enjoying it nonetheless. Leila listened to Elisa go into her routine spiel of her imaginary pet dragon, Dibbles. Apparently Dibbles had to stomp all over a sunflower field because an evil king took all of her friends, so she went on a quest to save them. Elisa then helped Dibbles recover from her injuries.
Ismael rested his contraption beside his plate: a sort of robot like figure built together with a combination of metal parts and plastic. Her mother asked him what it was, and he explained that he was designing a model for a future AI he wanted to make. He was the brains of the family, and he was only eight years old.
"What about you, Leila?" Her father stared at her from the other side of the dining table, absentmindedly popping a forkful of rice into his mouth.
"Yes, why did your lesson get cancelled?" Her mother asked as she placed her glass of water back down on her straw-made coaster.
Leila sighed. "My teacher quit today. Don't know why."
Her parents both frowned.
"Was it your playing?" Ismael asked.
Leila shoved his shoulder. The bugger laughed, and his dimples were on full display on his brown skin. It made it harder to be mad at him.
"No, it wasn't my playing," she said with a huff. She looked down at her plate, moving her food around before stabbing at a piece of meat. "Or I hope not," she ended with a wince.
"I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation as to why your teacher quit," her mother reassured. "What did Enrique say?"
"Told me lessons were cancelled this week." Leila shrugged. The poor man fought to keep it all together in front of her. He was always the one to bury all bad emotions. "Hopefully I can get a new teacher soon."
The topic switched drastically as Elisa refused to eat her vegetables. Her parents sighed, coaxing her about the good benefits eating them would have, but she refused. She defended her decision by saying that princesses never ate vegetables, only sweets.
Leila tuned off from the conversation, letting each of their songs infiltrate her senses sharper than ever. Tropical tunes interwoven with a piano and guitar fusion as a bubblegum pop song played in the background combined with an intense almost video game-like soundtrack. A mess of songs, but it was her family. She grew fond of the noise.
As her parents went on to try to convince Elisa to eat her greens, Leila felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and pulled it out under the table. A new message from Mr. Ferrer.
Good news! I got you a temporary teacher until we find someone to take the position. Would you be interested in trying them out? Let me know.
—Enrique Ferrer
Bless his heart for always signing his text messages. Leila excitedly typed in her yes and looked up to her parents clearing their throats.
"What did we say about phones at the table?" Her mother asked. Leila pouted as she pocketed the phone. Both Elisa and Ismael laughed at her expense, and she stuck out her tongue at them. She almost told Elisa that her dragon wasn't real and flicked off Ismael's model, but continued eating instead. She learned long ago not to mess with the real babies of the family.
"I'm going to get more pega'o," her father announced, shimmying to the caldero that still sat inside the sink. Her siblings laughed, and her earlier annoyance dissipated. She focused on her father's tropical song, almost smelling the faint sea salt in the air as he came back to the table.
