Oh Zoe

20 | BOYS WILL BE BOYS

Maybe . . .

"Maybe just the pizza cutter," Zoe muttered to herself as she rummaged through the kitchen draws. "Oh! The cake mould . . . and the cookie cutter . . ."

Before she realised it, Zoe had half the kitchen's utensils bundled in her arms. Satisfied, Zoe sneaked out of the kitchen, walking through the house as stubbly as possible to avoid dropping anything and making a loud, metallic clank. She carefully peered over the sifter that was on the top of her pile, seeing through the holes to miss the upcoming coffee table.

When Zoe reached the backdoor, she also reached a dilemma. How was she, with her arms filled to the brink with her mother's kitchen draws, to open the screen door?

Zoe steadily raised onto one foot, reaching out her right foot and curling her bare toes around the handle for the sliding door. Wobbling slightly, she slowly slid the door open, balancing the items in her arms while simultaneously balancing her body on one leg. It was no easy task.

She slipped through the door and aired a sigh of relief. She turned around . . . and frowned. Now she had to try and close the door. Zoe shrugged and walked down the steps to the backyard. Someone else could close the door.

Zoe was trotting across the grass, mindful of the bindies that scattered the lawn, when she heard a disturbing grunt. Zoe turned, but obviously she couldn't see much through the stack of utensils in her arms. When she didn't hear any more commotion, she kept going on her way to her sandpit. Zoe was practically jumping with joy at the new forts she was going to make with her mum's cake mould . . .

This time it was a throaty groan of someone in pain. Zoe, agitated, gazed around the backyard again. She turned on her side – because seeing in front of her was impossible – to look more carefully. She spun around, trying not to lose all her sandpit utensils in her haste.

Then she spotted it.

Pete was hovering over a hunched Leon, both of them soaking in sweat. Zoe squinted her eyes. Pete shoved Leon, pushing him back so he stumbled, but he kept his footing. What were they doing? Then Pete whipped his arm back and slammed it with full force at Leon's head. Leon quickly defected and counterattacked with a fist to Pete's gut. Oh, no.

Oh, this was bad.

Zoe, eyes wide and innocent, sprinted back to the house as fast as she could. When she got to the deck, she couldn't have been more relieved that she'd left the back door open earlier. Zoe ran into the living room, almost tripping on the carpet rug.

"Elliot!" She screamed at the top of her lungs.

Zoe went and quickly dropped all the utensils on the couch disregarding. Then she ran to the kitchen. "Elliot! Elliot!" Zoe screamed louder. Her breath travelled fast through her lungs. It was sad how easily Zoe became out of breath from her asthma.

"Elliot!" Where was he?

"Zoe, keep your voice down–"

Zoe ran into the dining room. There, she found Bea happily folding washing, Hollie engrossed in her laptop, and Elliot rebuilding a piece of broken gym equipment he used as a personal trainer.

"Elliot! Elliot! Pete and Leon are beating each other up in the backyard–"

That was as far as Zoe got before Elliot was pouncing out of his seat and racing for the backyard. Zoe tried to keep up, but it was just a fact that someone with strides double your own would run faster. Hollie and Bea trailed more slowly behind.

Zoe raced to keep up with Elliot, but was, in fact, almost an entire room behind. When she entered the living room, Elliot was already out on the deck and racing along the lawn.

Zoe reached the lawn just as Elliot began shouting at the two brothers rolling around on the ground. Zoe didn't think that was an effective way to hurt someone. All it did was make your opponent itchy from the grass at best.

"Stop! Stop it, both of you!" Elliot yelled, ripping Pete and Leon apart. Elliot pulled Pete so hard that he fell backward onto his back. Leon swiftly rose to his feet just as Zoe ran up beside Elliot.

"Chill, bro." Leon said, irritated, as he pushed Elliot's hand away. "We weren't actually fighting. Pete's just teaching me some of the moves he's learning in the new defence class he's taking. Pretty cool, right?"

Elliot dragged his hand through his hair. Yep. He was annoyed.

Now would be the time for Zoe to leave . . .

"What is going on?" Mari demanded as she walked up to the four of them with a washing basket under her arm. Mari placed the basket on the ground when she reached them.

Zoe shrivelled down, trying not to be noticed.

"We were just fooling around, mum. We weren't actually beating each other up."

Mari looked at Pete, horrified. "Seriously? Today of all days?" Mari shook her head disapprovingly and put her hands on her hips authoritatively.

"What do you mean?" Leon said, confused.

Elliot answered before Mari could. "We're having lunch with Paul in two hours, moron." Elliot knocked Leon upside the head.

"Shi–" Leon broke off his curse at his mother's narrowed eyes.

"Look at you." Mari said to Leon. She walked over to him and touched his lip were Pete had split it. There was also a faint bruise growing on his left cheek bone.

Zoe shook her head. "Boys will be boys," she said in her mother's tone, then giggled at herself. Boys were so stupid.

Mari spun on her daughter. "I don't suppose anyone would know why half the kitchens utensils are now in the living room?"

Zoe suddenly found her bare feet fascinating. "I'm going to go get ready." Zoe said innocently and began walking off.

Mari smiled after her daughter. "Zoe, will be Zoe."