This is how it’ll happen: she’ll fall in love with the first guy to make her laugh. He’ll be younger than she, with an offbeat sense of humor. His jokes soon become the thing that only they get; they tie him and your sister together with the comforting sense that it’s them against the world. He’ll like the same things she likes. He’ll have an odd sense of dress that she’ll find adorable. The first time she brings him home to meet the family, you’ll realize you’ve never seen your sister so happy.
You and she will be in different places by the time they meet. She’s an older college student, finally finding a sense of place only after years of failed attempts: first she wanted to be a hairdresser, then a psychologist, then an equestrian, now a school teacher. She’s already transferred twice. You’re preparing for college, tied up in boys, in drinking on weekends, in social status, the things your sister always hated. Once you two bonded about how much you hated these things. Once you two sang Alanis Morissette lyrics at the top of your lungs in her messy bedroom. Once you two made fun of what the “preps” wore. Once you purported to be anti-label only because she was, and snuck into her bedroom to throw her concert tee over your Gap shirt after she left the house. You don’t do these things anymore.
Published by The Rumpus