Everyday Combat

Glancing up at the clock the nine millionth time mom sighed and slammed the butter knife down on the work top before spinning round, one hand on her hip to look at me. I swallowed my toast and glanced nervously across at dad before looking back at her, wondering why I was getting that look.

"Erm, hi?" I said tentatively.

"Don't you erm hi me young lady go get your brother up!" She snapped, throwing her arm out towards the kitchen door.

"Whoa!" I yelled back. "Don't yell at me I didn't do anything! I didn't tell the asshole to sleep in did I?"

Mom advanced towards me where I was stood, tea-towel in hand as if to hit me with it so I dashed to the stairs and up them away from her. Pondering on what exactly had crawled up her ass and died, I barged straight into Zack's room to see him stood in front of his mirror fixing his hair.

I stood, hand on the door handle, staring at him incredulously before bending over, grabbed one of his soft toys - cause yes Zachary Baker does have them - and lobbing it at him. He yelped, rubbing his head where it had hit him and looked at me with a frown. "The fuck was that for?"

"Getting me yelled at by mom," I retorted, moving further into his room and with one swift nudge of my hip, shoving him out of the way of the mirror so I could see my own reflection. If Zack wanted to use the mirror he could take advantage of the nine inches of height he has on me. "Anyway, why you fixing your hair? Is Sarah coming home?"

"No," he shrugged, pushing me back out of the way so that I stumbled on his school bag and fell onto his bed. "But I spoke to her last night and we made up." I frowned, ignoring this piece of information as I pushed my hair from my face and lobbed another soft toy at him which resulted in him sitting on my legs and tickling up and down my stomach.

"Argh! Abuuuse!" I yelled with a grin as he himself laughed and carried on. "Abuse! Twin sister abuse!!"

Somehow I managed to reach round and grab one of his pillows that I then went on to hit him with till he got off me and began hitting me himself with another of his pillows. Suddenly the door flew open and we stopped messing round to see mom stood in the door seething.

"I asked you to wake him up not mess around!" She screamed at me, moving quickly into the room. Thankfully I was quicker and I darted round her and downstairs to come to hide behind dad where I knew she wouldn't try and get me.

"Sanctuary!" I cried with a grin, seeing Zack straining against one as he followed mom downstairs. Mom didn't look impressed. In fact, she looked even angrier and I knew by opening my mouth I had quite possibly signed my death warrant.

"Now come on Jules, calm down," Dad said walking towards mom and placing his hands on her shoulders as she glared at me over his shoulder. "Faith didn't do anything wrong, stop taking this out on her."

Zack and I frowned now. "Take what out on us?" Zack asked pushing past them to get tothe kitchen his breakfast.

"She fell out with your grandmother," Dad explained.

"Again," Zack and I mumbled under our breaths as we caught each others gazes and rolled our eyes. Mom - being half-American and half-German - and grandma - being totally German - were always arguing over the fact Zack and I were brought up Italian, that we never understood a word of her native language and that we were quite ignorant of our rightful heritage.

Which we weren't we just happened to embrace Italy with wider arms.

Then grandma would try and teach us something about our German heritage which wouldn't bother us but subsequently would then set mom and her off arguing more. But it's not like she was acting as if Hitler's regime was the best to live in.

She hates Hitler with a passion, as do our dad's parents hate Mussolini. They are very nice people to everyone, who were already living in America by the time of the war. It was just unfortunate their home country's became the enemy for a few years.

Zack and I were very proud Italian-American's andabused made use of that all the time (except telling everyone we were actually born in Italy, not America). We are almost as proud to be Italian born, than the English are to be English.

But if anyone unfairly drags our names down with Mussolini you've had it. We were pretty strongly opinionated like that and quite often in discussions about the World War in school we would have to be told to shut up by our teachers. Saying that, it didn't stop Zack from loving his girlfriend. He didn't care she was part German.

But now I'm waffling.

Grabbing our bags we mumbled cautious goodbyes to mom before hurrying out of the door to escape anymore of her mood. God helped me I loved mom but when she argues with grandma she becomes scary and it's not funny. Unless your name is Brian or Jimmy.

"So, now you're good with Sarah," I began, glancing up to my brother as he kicked a stone along the sidewalk, "no more long faces?"

Zack looked at me, his face blank for a moment before he broke out in a smile. "No more long faces."

"So what was the long face about just before I asked?" I then enquired as we reached Brian and he joined us walking to school.

"Because I miss her," he shrugged. I nodded and offered a small smile.

I didn't particularly want to go back to our argument the other week. When we'd got home I was so livid by what he'd done and he was just so livid full stop that we were actually throwing things at each other, kicking and screaming and fighting until mom and dad had separated us ,and dad had taken Zack to his brothers house for the night.

And I didn't like it when our arguments and falls out got that big.

"You'll be okay, dude," Brian spoke up, spitting bits of apple down his shirt; I reached a hand up and brushed them from his shirt. Despite my not really liking her all that much, Sarah's absence was sorely felt and I had found myself having to step into her shoes to keep the guys in line.

Which was weird to say the least since I wasn't exactly the responsible type considering I joined in with the guys antics more times than not.

"Yeah just a few more days," I found myself saying to him and he smiled softly back at me. With that I turned to Brian - since I was stood between the two of them, almost as if they were my bodyguards - flapping my hands with a grin, ready to tell him about mom that morning.