Mona

Feels Like We Only Go Backwards

My mom held me tight in her arms, wanting the moment to last as long as she could. I could sniff her signature scent come across my nose a few times. Lavender- or was it a sort of florally pine tree smell? That I was never sure of. But whatever it was, it reminded me of her.

The Vegas heat was already hot enough, and I didn't need my mom squeezing my ribs any tighter than she already was. It was like the sun's rays were stroking against my dark skin. In the background, my brother Zach helped put my suitcases in the trunk.

"I love you, Mona. Don't give your aunt too much trouble, okay?" My mom uttered as we broke away from each other. Her voice trembled slightly. She held my hands in between her's, swinging them side to side. I quickly glared at Zach, who in return, gave me a smirk while picking up a bag.

I replied, "I love you too. And I won't, I promise." Besides, I barely knew my aunt Natalie. I wouldn't make a fuss to talk to her much. Although, I knew I had to respect her. She was giving me a place to live for an entire year.

I wondered what she was like now. The last time I'd seen her was seven years before, around Christmas, I presumed. A time when she finally settled with her boyfriend. His name was Jeff. Or Jeffrey. I couldn't remember, I was about nine or ten at the time and the past was fuzzy to me.

"Hey, don't I get a hug, too?" Zach shouted from the car. He waved his arms up and squinted his eyes, the sun being too bright to look directly at me. I smiled and slipped away from my mom's hands, only to run into my brother's arms.

He was taller than me. I always thought that was pretty odd, because we were three years apart and I was the oldest. He had a darker skin tone than I did, kinda like my dad's. He had a lot of muscle mass. This was probably because he played so many sports, where as I, on the other hand, played only one. His hair was like a thin blanket, having curly pieces here and there. And of course, he had the same upturned nose that everyone in the family had.

He whispered in my ear, trying to hide what he was saying from my mom. "If you ever need me to beat someone up, call me and I'll come running," he joked.

"Hey," I quickly answered. "I'm the oldest. That's my role."

We laughed, hearing a faint, "What?" come from my mother in the distance.

Zach then let out a large "Oh!" from his mouth, startling me. He picked something up from behind him.

"Don't forget this, of course." It was my black backpack. "You'll need it for whatever you do in your free time. Who knows." I made a discombobulated face and shrugged it off. We then stood there for a good ten seconds in silence, knowing what happened next but not wanting to let it happen.

"Okay, well you better get going so you don't arrive late," my mom asserted, making a scooting gesture towards the car.

I stepped foot into the car, putting my bag into the passenger's seat. I tuned the radio to something calm so my mom would subconsciously think I'd be okay. I don't know why I did things like that. Whether it was being a hawk for body language or sensing someone's tone in voice, I always experimented with the way people acted. It was a lifelong habit of mine.

I shut my door and put the window down. My mom walked to my side and put her hands on the door. Her mouth opened, saying, "I hope you have a good time, sweetie. Call me when you get there, please. Let me know you'll be fine."

"I will. I'll call you," I had to tell her. One last, "I love you," came out of my mouth and my mom said the same thing. She then rapidly walked away, because she wasn't the best at goodbyes. Behind her was Zach, smiling at me from afar. "Love you!" I shouted.