Page 5 of The Wrong Sister
Raff: I’ll be at your place at 6 on Friday
Me: [thumbs up gif]
Rafferty has known about my crush on his older brother for about as long as I have. He’s never been a jerk about it. He has more than a decade’s worth of ammunition, but he’s never once made fun of me or thrown it in my face. Raff is good with feelings. He’s always been who I talk to, about everything. He’s basically the only person in my life that has never made me feel like I’m too much or like I should try to make myself quieter or less passionate or more like Catherine to be seen and heard. Everyone should have a friend like Rafferty Simms. I’m glad I have dinner with him to look forward to, it makes me less likely to obsess over how embarrassing it is that my sister is dating my lifelong crush. I mean, of course she is. Everyone has always said they’d be perfect together. Griffin and Catherine as a couple were inevitable. I can’t think of them together without thinking of that night 12 years ago.
* * *
Moments ago we were all bunched together, under the lanai, listening to our parents talk. I don’t even recall what words were used—mostly because they got washed away by my anger—only that it was implied that they wanted Griffin and Catherine to get married in the future. And one of the reasons Auntie cited was Catherine’s beauty. I didn’t need to hear anything else. I stomp back home in a rage. I’m sick of being the invisible sister, second-best to Catherine and her classic beauty and her studious manner and her quiet, gentle ways. It’s bad enough that Griffin will never notice me, but now even our parents have come out saying they want them to end up together. I could never compete with Catherine, to begin with, and now I have less than no chance against my beautiful older sister PLUS the expectations of our families! Griffin is a guy with a lot of honor, even a dumb kid like me can see that. What his family thinks is important to him. He’d never purposefully do something to disappoint them. And what’s a bigger disappointment than me? I’m not naive enough to think I actually had a chance with him, but now even the dream seems pointless. I throw myself into a chair, stoking my anger like I’m tending a beach bonfire. Whenever it calms even the tiniest bit I throw on another slight to draw it out more.
No one said I’m beautiful.
No one defended me when it wasn’t said.
No one wishes I was their future daughter-in-law.
No one believes someone like Griffin could or should be with someone like me.
Burn, fury, burn. I know Raff can see me, he chased after me when I stomped off because he’s the only one who knows how I feel about Griffin. He makes a joke about their betrothal and I’m thankful he’s my friend. He picks a comedy, probably to draw me away from my murderous anger, and it works until I look over at the couch. Both Griffin and Catherine have ended up there, their hands flopped on the open cushion between them like they’re working up to touching. They both look a little shellshocked but they don’t look angry. Neither of them seems bothered by our parents planning their love lives for them, simply surprised. That makes me more furious. Maybe they’re not annoyed about those ridiculous expectations because they both secretly want it. They didn’t argue or say the idea is crazy. Probably because feelings are already there. I don’t know if I can take being forced to watch them fall in love.
* * *
It happened much later than I thought it would, but here we are. I moved almost 5,000 miles away from home to avoid this situation. Well, to experience something new, and become who I wanted to be, and get an education. But, you know, also to get away from Catherine and Griffin and their inevitable love story. My life is a constant, cruel joke though. Of course, they’d get together as soon as I move back home after years away.
Except now I’ve seen him and talked to him as an adult, as an equal. I’ve seen how hot he’s become and felt the sparks when we touched. I know that this is more than the silly crush of a 13-year-old. There is something there between us but, because Griffin is Griffin, he won’t allow it to be anything. That feels even worse. There’s nothing I hate more than feeling like I’m not in control. I cannot believe I felt instantaneous sparks and connection with someone gorgeous, smart, kind, and passionate about the things I am and nothing can ever come of it because it was taken out of my hands over a decade ago. There is someone I can vent my frustrations to, though.
Me: Why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Griffin?
Catherine the GREAT: Am I though? It’s new and unclear. It didn’t feel like enough to even share. Should I have?
Me: Well, yeah—we grew up with the Simms? They’re like family!
I hate how weak that is but I’ve kept my crush a secret this long, I’m not going to out myself now.
Me: Sisters tell each other things that are important in their lives
Catherine the GREAT: But it’s not. I wasn’t keeping it from you, I just didn’t think about it
Catherine the GREAT: We’ve only been on two dates, if they were even that, it didn’t feel like enough of a “thing” to even share at this point
Me: But doesn’t the fact that it’s Griffin immediately make it a thing?
Catherine the GREAT: Hold, please
My phone rings, but it’s a video call, not a phone call. This is Catherine’s way.
“Hey, Meens! Sorry, but you know me. I’m finishing up a spreadsheet and it’s easier if I can be hands-free. Bonus: I get to see your face!”
“You’re not even looking at me, Catherine. Your eyes are on the calculator.” Blue eyes shoot briefly towards the phone screen, then go back to what she was doing. I sigh. “Sorry. I’m in a pissy mood and taking it out on you. I don’t mind video chats. I like talking to you any way I can, you know that.”
“Me too, but you. So, as I said, the Griffin thing is super new. I think there’s some pressure for it to besomethingbecause it’s the two of us, but if it was anyone else it wouldn’t be worth mentioning. I’m trying to look at it that way. We met for coffee once and went to lunch a couple of weeks later. We’ve always chatted or texted sporadically, nothing new there. There hasn’t even been anything that felt like a lead-up to a kiss. Does he seriously wants to date me, or are we only hanging out as friends? I don’t know.”
“Well, Raff told me you were a thing. Those were his words, not me reading into it.”
“Huh. I wonder if that’s Rafferty reading into it, or if Griffin told him that?”
“I don’t know. I guess I can grill him on Friday.”
“Are you guys hanging out without me?” She pouts, but it looks so fake I’m not bothered.
