Dear Journal:
This morning, I stopped by Starbucks on my walk and got Michelle a Trenta Frappuccino as a mea culpa (mea gulpa?) for Friday night. Did you know you can add supplements to Starbucks' drinks now? Anyway, I added a big scoop of protein powder to sissy’s. I need to make up for lost time. Besides, she’ll need the extra calories for soccer practice.
Assuming she’s still on the team.
When I got home, I was surprised to find sissy in the kitchen with Mom, already dressed and ready for school. Despite highs in the 80s, she wore a bulky hoodie and baggy sweatpants. Never thought I'd see the day when sissy copied my fashion sense. It looked as if she’d raided my closet.
“Good morning, sissy,” I said, trying to sound simultaneously chipper and nonchalant. “I got you a little present.” Of course, there was nothing little about it. I had to hold it with both hands on the walk home.
Michelle took one look at it and turned away. “I don’t want it.”
“But it cost a lot of money.”
“Then you drink it.”
“Michelle!” Mom snapped. “That was very nice of your sister.”
Mom had seen how well we’d been getting along and correctly assumed the oversized drink was an apology. Of course, she was unaware of my ulterior motives.
“But I don’t want it," sissy whined.
“I’ve seen you drink plenty of those things. Thank your sister. You can drink it later if you don’t want it now.”
Or maybe she was.
“Thanks," Michelle said, sounding defeated. She took the drink and, despite her claims to the contrary, took a large sip. “I’ve got to go.”
With that, sissy gathered her book bag from the table and, after another long drag that failed to make a dent in the frothy brown concoction, disappeared out the door.
After she was gone, Mom put her arm around me. “That was a nice gesture, Jessie.”
“Sissy didn’t seem to think so.”
“Sissy’s dealing with a few issues right now. I think she’s just frustrated.”
I think she's just a bitch. Still, my interest was piqued. “What kind of issues?”
“Oh, just the curveballs life throws all of us from time to time.”
That didn’t tell me anything. But it was nice to hear Michelle was facing challenges normally reserved for us mortals. “Is that why she left early?”
Mom nodded. “She’s meeting with her soccer coach.”
Before I could ask another follow-up, Mom headed for the stairs. "I need to get ready. Have a good day at school, honey!"
For the rest of the morning, my mind raced with thoughts about what the meeting might be about. And the hope that my sister would carry her ridiculous beverage into it.
--Jessie