SUMMER STORMS [h.s.]

one

"Maia! Are you ready?" My mom shouted from the kitchen.
"Yeahh" I shouted back, grabbing my little bag where I had my notebooks, my earphones. I slipped my phone in the back pocket of my shorts and went downstairs.
My parents were waiting for me at the front door. I got out and my father set the alarm to protect the house in case we had the bad type of visitors while we were out. I waved at the non-living seeking for a response from it in my imagination. I wasn't going to see my house for a long time.

I hoped in the back seats of my car as my mother closed her door in front of me.

The car wasn't as hot as the outside's temperature, which could probably fry eggs. The shine of the sunlight didn't let me look up at the sky because of its whiteness. I had light eyes, so I was even more sensitive to strong beams.
But as I sat on the car seat the warmth of it felt good in my bare thighs, not like the sweat my body was uncomfortably secreting and wetting my cute crop top that was matching with some white shorts, my usual Rebook trainers and a thick bun. I wasn't gonna dress up too much for a three hours long drive, only the traffic signs were going to see my dull outfit.

"Dad? Can you turn up the air conditioning?" I asked looking at his eyes, that were a twin of mines, through the front mirror. He didn't respond, but did just what I had asked.
Late August was not taken easily, I'm not a burning heat lover to be honest. But my mom! She loves to roast under the sun, feel the skin achieve high temperatures that I couldn't imagine to stand. When we go to the pool I'm always inside the water, and she doesn't even touches it. Psychopath...

I plugged my earphones to my phone and picked a song. It finished sooner than I remembered it would and didn't notice until I felt too much silence in my ears. I clicked shuffle mode, so I didn't have to be unlocking my phone every time a song ended and let the music distract me from the lame road.
I usually pretended I was the drums in the song, mimicking the instrument with my hands. From time to time changing the action and following the rhythm of the beat tapping on the car's door with the tips of my fingers.

I spent almost the whole drive looking through the window. My Spanish village was placed in the most beautiful site and with the most aesthetic nature, which was very helpful for my writings. You could see springs at the sides of the narrow roads, only a few got to become bigger rivers, the rest were just a perfect bar for little, thirsty birds and other creatures living nearby. A lot of vegetation along the landscape, May bloomed and wide opened flowers and some little foxes that from time to time were scared by the road that infiltrated the nature.
Sometimes it scared me the fact that any animal could jump and be run over by us, but that hadn't happened yet gladly.

After the three hours shortened by the musical entertainment, we arrived to the village and my dad parked just in front of our house. My grandparents got out of theirs as they heard the noise of the car's motor stop.
The village wasn't very loud, nor big and to be honest, sometimes my stay there was hard.
I had no friends here, there were some twenty-something year old boys, but a simple high school girl wasn't going to hang out with them. There was nothing to do there, no shops, no cinema; of course, not even a supermarket. Just two bars and a little bakery.
However, after all, it was what I missed the most during the winters back home. I missed the lovely swimming pool of my grandparents' house, the garden my grandma had been taking care of since I can remember and all of the charming details that Serrano place had.

And even though the activities were very limited, I always have a very occupied days. I run a bit every morning, then have a shower or maybe a swim. Go and buy the bread, come back home and sometimes do nothing. I would help my grandma to cook lunch, she is the best cook I've ever seen, and desserts are her specialty. In the afternoons, I would usually ride my bike to a hidden little lake I found two years ago, not far away. I would refresh my feet while writing in my notebook, the same one I had in my little bag, which I would take everywhere.

Let's say, it was a whole month of me time.

"Hi! How are you Maia? My little princesa" said my grandmother hugging me tightly. She has always called me that way, and I absolutely adore it.
"I'm good" I responded smiling, hugging her back.
My old and adorable grandpa. He also asked me how I was and if school had ended good. You know, all those things adults ask when they greet a high schooler.

We smarted up the house we hadn't been in for almost ten months a bit, but for sure tomorrow we would be cleaning deeper and tidying up during the whole day. Now, it was around two pm and lunch time was almost here. Besides, my stomach was already groaning.
"Maia, go and get some bread please" My grandmother said kindly and handing me some coins that would be enough for the shopping.

I arrived to the bakery in a thirty seconds walk and ordered to the old lady, Trini, who immediately recognized me and asked how I had been during winter. I politely answered her and asked for her family.
She handed me the two bread bars and I gave her the exact money needed that my grandma had given me in coins.
"My grandson is coming this summer, tomorrow I think... maybe you two could be friends, it's the first time he comes" she says.

And it was true, I have been spending my holidays here since I am able to speak and I have never seen someone born in this millennium apart from me and when my little cousins came over.

Why did scare me the feeling of having someone my age around? It wasn't exactly scare, it just worried me the thought that the families would force us to spend the summer together. Typical from adults too, right?
I loved to be in my own world, riding my bike sometimes, going to the next village just by running south just ten minutes away and catching some different inspiration, a different air to breath and write about. Some different tulips to describe and some different clouds to draw...

"Oh, I didn't know you had a grandson, but yes sure!" I lied, but what could I say?

Going back home with bread in hand, I greeted some more villagers in Spanish, which I knew pretty fluently thanks to my mom's nationality.

***

It was four pm already and the whole family was taking a nap, yeah the famous siesta. The whole village was quieter, if possible.

I wanted to ride my bike and go to the little pond near the farm the Villalba's family had, but the sun was too strong to go out right now and the temperatures would probably give me a headache if I had in mind the physical effort of the bike. Not a good idea...

I was in my room, basically the loft with plenty of space just for me.
Very well decorated, kind of vintage, you could say. And a queen sized bed, my favorite thing from the whole room. The bed.

I was just listening to some old cd's from my grandfather while reading. I had left my speaker at home, so this summer I had to be content with that CD player. However, I had an entire shelf full of cases, and except for some, the rest were bearable. What I had clear was that I wasn't going to listen to Ariana or Billie this summer.

At six pm, when the temperature was tolerable, I got out of the house and went to the small park that wasn't far from my house. I waved at some people, I really didn't remember some of their names, but I knew they were friends with my grandparents.
I placed myself on the swing and continued reading my book there.