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My aspiration—the type of person I dream to become one day.
So when she starts laughing at my sass, I’m not even surprised. In fact, it warms my insides to witness her ‘fuck it’ attitude up close.
"I know why you’re having such a hard time getting to the sex scene,” she muses, turning to face me.
"Okay, I'll bite. Why?” I reply, turning to look at her with my elbow on the pillow and my hand on my cheek.
“Isn’t it obvious?” she retorts, her blue eyes softening. “It’s because you’re still a virgin. How can you write a sex scene when you haven’t even done the deed yet?”
I don’t remind my sister that I just turned sixteen a few weeks ago and haven’t mustered the courage to let a boy kiss me, much less do the dirty with. Using that as an excuse on my sister would be pointless since I’m pretty sure Daisy had her sexual awakening around the time she was in junior high and has never looked back. She sees sex as simply having a bit of harmless fun, while I’ve built it up so high in my mind that it kind of scares the living shit out of me.
When her spirited expression turns into concern that she’s hurt my feelings, I plant a playful smile on my lips.
"That’s what the imagination is for.” I flick the center of her forehead to drive the point home. “And besides, I know the mechanics of it, thank you very much.”
“Knowing where a cock fits into a vagina isn’t enough. You’ll never be able to do it justice if you don’t let yourself experience it first. How else will you be able to describe the intensity in your lover’s eyes? The smell in the room? Or how his warm skin slides up against yours, making your heart skip? Or how the sweat drips down your brow as you beg him to give it to you harder. Shouting more, more, more!” she yells, slapping her hand on the mattress in the space between us.
“You're a freak, you know that, right?” I laugh.
“And you’re my favorite little weirdo.” She giggles, ruffling my dark brown hair. "But I guess you still have plenty of time for all of that good stuff. All I ask is that you at least write one good kiss scene. Please don’t make me wait ten fucking chapters to get it.”
“Fine. I'll have them kiss in the next chapter,” I concede.
“Barbosa’s blue balls thank you. And remember, if you need any help with the sexy times, you know who to come to for advice.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me as she pretends to hump the air.
“God, you're gross.”
She cackles.
“Speaking of gross,” she starts to say when she’s calmed down, “I think Mom is getting nailed on the daily now. Good and proper by the way she’s always smiling.”
“Oh my God, Daisy! Can you not?! I don’t want to have the picture of our mom doing it in my mind.”
Another cackle.
“Doesn’t make it any less true. She didn’t come home again last night. It’s the fourth time this month.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” I chew on the corner of my bottom lip.
“So, you know what that means?” Daisy smiles mischievously while jumping up on top of my bed again. “Mom has ditched all those fuck boys that never call her back after getting some and she’s got herself a real man. Bow chicka wow wow!” she hollers, spanking the air in front of her as she jumps up and down.
“You’re going to break the bed!” I shout, laughing while trying to pull her back down.
She just laughs away, dropping down beside me.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is my big sister. Always happy. Always a perv, and always the life of the party.
I’m the total opposite.
I’m the serious one.
My nose is either stuck in a book, or on my laptop writing up a storm. To say I'm socially awkward is an understatement. Give me fictional heroes any day of the week compared to the idiots I go to school with. Daisy, however, is theitgirl at our school. I think that’s why I'm not bullied even if the kids there think I’m a freak. I’m Daisy Ames’ little sister, after all. If you mess with me, you mess with her. And no one wants to be on my sister’s shit list.
I should be thankful, I guess.
But if I’m completely honest with myself, at times I resent her a little. The things I love about my sister are also the things that make my existence extra hard. If she would only tone it down a notch, no one would think I’m such a letdown all the time in comparison.
“So?” she asks, pulling me out of my shameful thoughts.
