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Michael

"Evening,"

"At last,"

"You look exhausted," Calum said, "what's happened?"

"Mum and dad visited, Be careful round her. Bad day,"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine,"

"Your mum and dad came,"

"I handled it,"

"If you wanna talk I'm here,"

"I'm fine,"

One of those know-it-all faces was plastered on him, and he swung his keys round his fingers, heading through to Maya's room with a package in hand.

Not long later, I heard her crying again, but I stayed out of it because he was a fresh perspective for her, and I knew she was safe with him.

I didn't like him prodding into my head though. I was going along like I hadn't seen them- it wasn't even a big deal. It was a five minute conversation. They did nothing to me.

I didn't have a reason to be upset.

And I wasn't.

Once they had stopped talking, both Maya and Calum came through, and she rested in my side with a sigh. I kissed the top of her head and gave her a big cuddle, then she started to cry again.

"I'm sorry,"

"You don't need to apologise, you have every right to be upset. I'm proud of you for being so brave,"

"Thank you for not being mad,"

"You're welcome," I said, resting my cheek on top of her head, "I'm glad you're okay,"

"I want my guitar to be blue,"

"Guitar?" Calum asked, "We have them already,"

"Well she gets a new one for being brave,"

"Ah. I'm gonna cook, what does everyone fancy?"

"Nothing,"

"Spaghetti? And my own sauce?"

"Nothing," she said moodily, turning away to face the sofa, "I feel sick,"

"Sounds good to me," I said, "Maya, let's go and talk in your room, please,"

She got up and stormed away, so I followed, catching the door before it slammed.

"If you are struggling with things again you can tell me, and I will sort something out, no fuss or questions asked,"

"I feel sick,"

"Anxious sick or real sick?"

"Anxious sick,"

"Okay, then lets talk about it," I said, sitting on her desk chair back to front, "Whatever you're feeling let it out,"

"It's just them,"

She fell back on her bed and covered her face, then held her phone out to me; I took it and checked, seeing she had messages from mum. Not so pleasant ones, despite the idea being to coax her back home.

"We will get you a new number, maybe even a new phone,"

"For real?"

"For real,"

"Okay,"

"We won't answer the door next time,"

"Next time?"

"If there is a next time, I meant. Hopefully not,"

"Today has been so fucking shit,"

"It has," I said, "I'm sorry,"

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