The sun slowly grazed the top of the church, and I could see it because I wasn’t watching the wedding. Instead, threw my lavender heels into the planter, then rolled my panty hoes down and set them on a bush. Classy. In fact, this is probably a work of art- I’m doing the church a favor, I thought to myself. My feet were only burning a little on the front steps, which were cement. This was way better than sitting inside that stuffy room listening to people gossip about my Uncle Ernie and his soon-to-be wife, Claudia. This was a place to be wed, not to be whispered about in other people’s ears about things that’s no one’s business.


I have to admit though, that wasn’t the only reason I ditched the pews. It was also dragging on longer than the last day of school, right before summer. You know, your leg shaking and your heart racing. And the only thoughts that are going through your mind is what took you to get there. What you had to do to make it here. Who told you that you couldn’t do it, and who stuck by your side.

Huh, now I know exactly how Ernie feels right about now.

Ernie was possibly the best uncle anyone could ask for, he was that sweet Santa Claus type man. His belly hung over his belt, and he could never seem to get rid of the five o’clock shadow. His voice would always stick in your head, because it was memorable and keep able. A voice that kind of made you feel like you were safe.

I remember he bought me my first Barbie. It was summer afternoon, and my swim suit was sticking to my stomach as I had just come back from running in the sprinklers with my brother Derek. I ran inside, right after Ernie. It was wrapped in hot pink, with a purple bow. My wet feet made little pats against the tile, and my mom was screaming at me. I didn’t care because Uncle Ernie was here.

He set the box on the counter, and I tried jumping to see what it was.

“It’s for you, and it’s not going anywhere. Calm down!” he chuckled.

“Can I see? Can I see?” I tugged at his pant leg.

“Okay,” he handed me the box, “Open it.”

My little hands tore the wrapping paper off, and exposed the shiny plastic window for the Barbie. She was blonde, and I remember noticing her perfect smile. She was perfect.

“Wow,” I said.

“She’s a fashion Barbie, so go out and buy her bunches of clothes! She’s a big spender,” Uncle Ernie kissed my forehead.

“She’s perfect,” I sighed.

“Is she?” he scratched at his black beard.

“Yes,” I replied.

“How so?” he took the box out of my hands.

“Well, her skin is really nice. She doesn’t have any gaps in her teeth. She’s got no wrinkles, like my mommy does. She doesn’t need to go on a diet-”

“Is that perfect to you?”

“Yes.”

“What does it mean to be perfect?”

“To be beautiful.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “I see. So being skinny, having nice skin, a nice smile- that’s all beautiful and perfect?”

“Yes.”

“Are you beautiful?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not like Barbie.”

“Jenna,” he knelt down on one knee to reach eye level with me, “You are beautiful. Barbie isn’t real. No one is like Barbie. You know what’s beautiful? All different shapes and sizes of people. Barbie is plastic, she’s a toy. You don’t have to be like Barbie to be beautiful. You have to be yourself. You have to be Jenna.”

“What do you mean, ‘Be Jenna’?” I tugged at my one piece.

“It means don’t change yourself for anyone. Promise?” he placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Why?”

“Because I love you the way you are, and your family does too. They always will, and they won’t stop until the day they die,” he looked me straight in the eyes, “And someone will come along and want to be with you forever, and they won‘t want you to be like Barbie, because they‘ll love you for who you are.”

“Really?” I smiled.

“Really.”

I continued just playing with my Barbie, not thinking much of that speech. But in retrospect, I realized how much he really meant what he had said. And that’s what I loved about Ernie, he always means what he says, and there is no in between with him.

When he met Claudia, things kind of changed. And I remembered always hating change as a little kid. I never wanted to grow up, I never wanted to move- I always wanted things to remain the way they were. So things were simple. Claudia moved in with Ernie when I was around ten, and Ernie stopped visiting as much. He was always on vacations with Claudia. They would take their RV and drive to random places, or they would take these spontaneous trips to different countries.

I missed him a lot, and I was always sort of rude to Claudia. She was just this sweet woman though, who wore red lipstick and had soft green eyes. Her hair was always a mess, but Ernie was infatuated with everything about her. I hated that he didn’t have room for me anymore. Whenever Claudia came over, I would exclude her from anything Ernie and I would usually do together.

“Hey Jen, get the cookie dough ready,” Ernie showed up at the house for the first time in months. I was deprived, and I was ecstatic. Until I saw Claudia walk over the threshold. My heart sank.


“Hi Jen,” she scruffled my hair.


“It’s Jenna. Only Uncle Ernie and my real family calls me Jen,” I rolled my eyes.

Claudia looked hurt, but she managed to turn up her ruby red lips into a smile and she hooked her jacket on the coatrack.

“Let’s go into the kitchen!” Ernie shouted, scooping me up and running.

“Is anyone watching the TV? Maybe we should turn it off,” Claudia’s voice was small.

“We watch cartoons while making cookies. It’s tradtion,” I shook my head, pushing past her, banging my shoulder into her side.

“It’s okay Jen, she didn’t know,” Ernie said.

“Yeah, don’t throw me under the bus here. Haha,” Claudia let out a dimunitive laugh.

“Wish we could,”I said under my breath.

The room got quiet, and I knew right then and there that Ernie was mad. He was a calm guy and rarely ever got mad. But when he was, silence was key. He wouldn’t say anything for a few moments, and whatever you had done- it would sink in deeper.

“Jennifer, just leave,” he said quietly.

“What? Why? I haven’t seen you in-”

“Jennifer.”

He never called me Jennifer.

“Uncle Ernie,” I whispered.

“Just leave, alright?”

That day changed everything, and I had come to terms with the fact that I couldn’t be Ernie’s best friend. I needed to welcome Claudia into the family like I’ve known her my whole life. That was the only way I was going to make Ernie happy, and that’s all that really mattered.

Happy. Happy is what he was now, in the church next to Claudia. The happiest he’s ever been. And I was missing this beautiful moment. I quickly snatched my hoes, and stuck both my feet in and jumped high and wriggled into them. I grabbed my heels and wedged my tiny feet into them. As I stood up, I came face to face with Liza. My half Aunt. My father and Ernie’s half sister.

A cigarette was nestled into her puny pale fingers, “Jennaaaa. Whatcha doing out here? All in the lonesome?”

“I was just going to go inside-”

“Mhm. You were bored, weren’t you?” she blew out some smoke.

“I guess,” I rolled my eyes.

“So, you missed the happiest moment in your uncle‘s life? Shame,” she shook her head.

“Yeah, it’s a shame you showed up,” I snorted.

“Nu-uh! People love me here!” she threw her hands up in the air.

“Hardly,” I chuckled. “You’re barely part of the family.”

“Looks like you’re on the same boat as me, if you’re standing out here.”

“Don’t you have a cigarette to smoke?”

I wondered if smoking was a sin, and if it would be frowned upon to “light one up” on the steps of a holy church. I examined her dress. Of course it was red because Liza could only recognize the color that represented the devil- it was all she knew. So I suppose that if smoking is a sin, she’d be doing her job considering the fact that she a spawn of Satan’s own. Liza was always a nasty woman- she’d always tear the happiness of others into shreds and created her own little jar of joy out of that. Making a mockery out of everyone was her calling- and she fed off of it. I have no idea how she got pleasure out of other people’s pain.

“Ya know he really loves you,” she adjusted her dress by pulling it downwards.

“I know,” I nodded.

“So what gave you the idea to leave?” she snapped.

“I don’t know, Liza.”

“Oh yes you dooo!”

“Liza, just shut up and smoke your cigarette.”

“You know, you are so selfish Jenna,” she stepped closer towards me, “You know that? You always think about yourself first. No one else. I mean, why else would you leave? Why else were you such a brat to Claudia when she first came?”

“Liza, please.”

“All you do is talk about yourself, and only care about material things. You’re so spoiled, too it’s ridiculous. I hope you remember this day, and I hope it kills you that you missed out on so much-”

I ran into the church before I could hear her finish anything. And right as I burst through the doors, I tripped over my own feet. I was so flustered, that I really didn’t feel like getting up. I pressed my forehead against the tile, and began to bawl. And I deserved to be left alone.

“You okay?” I heard an unfamiliar voice.

“Just peachy,” I said into the ground.

“…Was the groom yours first?” the voice said after a couple of moments.

I laughed, “No, he’s my uncle.”

“Okay good. You look a little too young for him anyway,” the voice was closer now, pratically in my ear. I slowly turned my neck to the right, and there were a pair of green eyes staring back at me. He was beautiful. He smiled, and all of his teeth were in perfect alignment.

“I’m Jenna,” I whispered, my voice sore from crying in only thirty seconds.

“Patrick,” he reached, and wiped his thumb on my wet cheek.

“I’m sorry. Did you hear me from inside there?” I sat up, and extended my right leg, and tucked my left foot into my thigh.

“Actually, I was right here when you fell through the doors. I don’t really know the happy couple,” he shrugged. He collected himself from the ground, and stuck out his hand for me. I took it, and when I rose from the ground, my eyes were at level with his chest.

“Oh,” I looked down at his shoes.

“So. If you don’t mind me asking,” he stuck his hands in his pockets, “What’s the trouble?”

I didn’t tell him anything. I just cried, and he held me in an embrace for the longest time. But it wouldn’t be the last.





I remember Cori breaking glass in her kitchen, and coaxing me to step on it because we were superheroes and therefore, pain wasn’t an issue. My foot bled for about an hour, and I couldn’t stop crying. We were five. She doesn’t even recall if it was on purpose or not, because she even cried with me. She took off her “superhero cape” (a simple dishtowel with little ducks on it), and tried to stop the blood from flowing, but ended up pushing the glass further into my foot.

Her mom rushed in and swatted Cori away, who fell on her butt.

“Corinne Bethany James, what happened. How did the glass break? Tell me the truth, right now, Missy,” Mrs. James was on one knee in front of Cori, wagging her finger.

“I don’t know,” Cori replied and started to run towards the direction of the living room.

Her mom reached out and snatched her, then promptly smacked her on the side of her head. Hard. I remember the sound very vividly. It wouldn’t be the last time I heard it in this kind of situation either. Cori’s eyes began to water, as she tried to break free from her mother’s clutches.

“Did Jennifer break the glass?” she pressed on, “DID she?”

“Yes,” I chirped quietly on the other side of the kitchen, glancing up at Mrs. James’ backside. At the time, I didn’t understand why I decided to jump in. But in retrospect, I realized that I had subconsciously knew that Mrs. James would have done way worse things when I left. I knew this after seeing the same thing over and over again. Cori does one little thing, Mrs. James makes mountains out of molehills.

She whipped around, and it registered that I would probably never be allowed to come back for another play-date again. Mrs. James always acted as if there was a stick up her ass. She was, to put it in the simplest of terms, almost worse than Liza. Maybe even a little more. Needless to say, I’ve never enjoyed being in Mrs. James presence. She always made me feel unwelcome, and she managed to make anytime I was ever at their house again a living hell. She accused me of things that would never dream of doing.


And all of this was because I wanted to save my best friend, who I had known since we were in diapers from a beating at the age of four. And, sometimes, I look back and I wish I hadn’t done what I did. Because as Cori and I got older, the more and more Mrs. James began to blame me for things that Cori had done.

I remember, taking so many faults and covering for Cori. It was ridiculous, but no matter how much I tried to drift away from her the more Cori just kept coming back.

One night, during our freshman year of high school, she got grounded multiple times for sneaking out, her grades, room not being clean, anything that Mrs. James could get her evil hands on- she’d lock Cori in her room. This time, she was grounded for being out at three in the morning with her quasi boyfriend. But not for long, because she would call me to spot her as she crawled out her window. I’d grip my hand tightly around the receiver of the home phone, as I pulled my curtain back and peered witnessing Cori gingerly sliding her window open and sticking one foot into the bushes below. That was my signal, where she’d look up for my silhouette and I’d give her the thumbs up if everything was clear. And wave my hands if I saw anything suspicious (Mrs. James, AKA Diana, NEVER turned lights off, so I could see silhouettes of everything that went on in the house).

She dashed across the street, barefoot. One time she had made the mistake of sprinting in flip flops, tripped and wailed in the middle of the road until her mother swung the front door of their house open. She almost dragged Cori by her hair, screaming at her. I took the fall for that one too, saying that I had coaxed her to sleep over.

This time, though, she ran with her feet gingerly slapping against road and she successfully made it to my front lawn. She proceeded to “happy dance” which contained moves such as the “cabbage patch”, “the sprinkler”, and ended with her giving her own house the bird in swift left and right motions.

Needless to say, this night didn’t work out too well. Her mom came driving by the local park where Cori and Jake were…having their own little “one on one” time. And, with my luck, Mrs. James saw me first out of the three of us. She hopped out of the car immediately after slamming the door so loud that I’m pretty sure the whole neighborhood could hear it. I clearly remember the sound of those ugly black boots she wore clacking against the concrete when she was making her way towards me, and I braced myself by balling my hands into fists and biting my tongue.

“I cannot believe this!” she threw her arms into the air. Her fat was hanging over the too tight of pants that she wore. She had this thing for picking out young women’s clothing, even though she clearly looked past the age of forty. I couldn’t help but stare at it, as it was sticking out.

“Mrs. James, I-”

“I don’t wanna hear anything from you. I’m tired of you’re bullshit,” she wagged her finger at me. And I was literally gnawing at my tongue at this point, because, seriously? My bullshit? What about the bullshit that came out of Cori’s mouth half the time?

“Excuse me?” was all I could muster to say, without uttering a swear.

“You sneak out all the time,” she was screaming at me by this point and I could hear Cori making her way over towards us, “You have been becoming such a diva lately Jennifer, I am surprised! Who do you think you are, sneaking out without telling your parents?! This s*** is getting old, Jennifer.”

“Actually,” I stood up and made my way towards her, “I told my parents exactly where I was going to be. They know where I am.”

“Well, that’s good for them isn’t it? I can’t have Cori hanging out with such a bad influence, you are no longer welcome at our house,” she shook her head at me, then darted her eyes over at Cori, “Corinne, in the car. Now.”

“Sorry Jen,” she whispered past me, lightly jogging over to the van.


“You think it’s so fun to gallivant around at night? Is that what you think? Don’t expect to be coming over our house anymore,” she had her keys in her right hand, and they jingled as she waved her hands throughout the night air.

“Hop in the car, Jen. We‘ll give you a ride home,” Cori yelled out the window nonchalantly, ignoring the whole situation.

“No, she is not allowed to come with us,” Mrs. James called over her shoulder, then whipped her head back around to me, “She can walk home.”

And with that, she stormed off. I watched her go, hearing the click clacks of her shoes before she stepped into the van, and slammed the door shut. I could see Cori’s face, she rolled her eyes as her mom started the car. And they were off into the night, leaving me behind- almost a mile walk home. This mile walk home, wasn’t so bad with two other people, but now the night had plopped itself down and was going to stay for the hour walk home. To make my night even more spectacular, I was left without a phone- with no way to contact any of my family.

This night would be recreated multiple times, in many different ways. I would always take the blame for the most outrageous of things to keep Cori’s hair from being ripped out of her head, or her mom banning Cori from ever seeing (insert boy’s name here) again. It was a cycle that I couldn’t seem to get myself out of- but at the same time I didn’t mind it if I meant I still got to be friends with the one person that understood me the most.

Now, Cori was standing in front of me holding dresses over her robe, asking me which one most brought out her eyes. She did this kind of thing where she could never decide on anything to wear, so she’d call me over and have me be the one to determine what she’d be wearing to her next event.

“I think that this off-the-shoulder pink sequin one is the most daring,” she dramatically yanked the article of clothing out of her massive closet. Cori had enough attire to clothe the entire underprivileged population. She didn’t wear half the things she owned, but refused to give them to the needy (namely me, all I owned were mainly t-shirts) because she had this knack for not being having the ability to throw anything away. Which explained why her room was so cluttered.

“Didn’t you wear that to Lacey’s party? Ya know, the one after we won the big football game.” I sighed, flipping through a magazine. Magazines were another couple of items that Cori would tend to hoard.

“S***,” she paused then gasped, “I’ll tear off the sleeve!”

She sprinted to the other side of the room, to her sewing machine, sat down and began to work. Then she let out another gasp, “Who is the hottie at your front door? Wow, his butt is shapely.”

“Cor, I know you find my brother attractive but it’s kind of disgusting when you choose to glance at his…parts,” I replied. It was something every little sister had feared, having their best friend attracted to their own older brother. Cori obsession with Derek started in the 6th grade, when she came over my house and we were playing Barbie, Derek walked in and asked if he could join us (he was going through this phase where he had no friends, and he just sat at home playing video games)

“What year are you in? That was 7th grade, hon. This guy is about five million times as good looking,” she bit off a piece of thread, “Well, the back of his head is anyway.”

I jumped off the bed, as this would be the first time in many moons that a good looking boy had stopped at my house. Most of the time they would knock on my door, confused thinking it was Cori’s house or they were just my brother’s friends…who were just as gross as he is. I prayed that none of those options were valid for his visit, as I pounced on the windowsill.

Oh, dear Lord, this boy was gorgeous. He was now turned around looking almost directly at the window of Cori’s room. He would glance around every few seconds or so, looking impatient. He was sexy when he was impatient.

“I’m melting, Cor, melting,” I gushed.

“Maybe it’s for me,” Cori snorted.

“Shut up and tear your sleeve,” I swatted my hand at her.

“Go over there! Talk to him!” she flicked my arm.

“I can’t!” I said, “I can’t! I look like I had a rough night last night!”

“If you don’t talk to him, I will.”

I was out of the room almost before she could finish the sentence. I was so excited, as my feet almost caught onto the other while I was running like some kind of creature was chasing me. I was almost right, as I notice some other kind of creature was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs; Mrs. James. I’m pretty sure my eyes jabbed her in the face, because I could feel the tension between us. She was like the plague, I swear, and you couldn’t get near her with ten foot pole without feeling pissy. Her and Liza would be two peas in a pod.

“Don’t run in my house, you wouldn’t want to knock down another vase,” she raised her evil eyebrow.

“I gotta go,” I stepped aside, making my way towards the door.

“Jennifer! I told Corrine for you not to come by the house anymore months ago. So why do you still visit? I don’t want you-”

“What?! Sorry, you’re breaking up. Going through a tunnel!” my smart-ass remarks have never come more in handy.

“You little-”

And that was all I heard before I slammed the door.





Patrick was so surprised to see me, that he wrapped his giant arms around me and spun me around multiple times. Once my feet were back on the ground, I looked up at him and realized how I didn’t notice his beautiful face at the wedding. I mean, seriously it was like he was a new man. I had hardly recognized him until his biceps were crushing my ribcage and I was suffocating. He was big, but definitely just the biggest sweetheart. I didn’t know what to say, I was so caught off guard.

“Wow! How long has it been? Let’s see…” He began counting on his fingers, “10 months! Almost a year. Incredible. Ya know, I’ve been thinking about you all this time.”

My stomach did a back flip. Really? I hadn’t thought of you once, and here you are beautiful! Just let me kiss you. I shook off my teenage tendencies and smiled at his…chest…where my face reached.

“Jenna? You okay?” He hooked his index finger under my chin, and raised it up so I could look in his eyes.

“Fine. Why are you here?” I coughed. Must. Resist.

“Well Liza…” His voice trailed off after I heard “the name”. Liza? Was she friends with Patrick? Was she dating Patrick? Oh good Lord. How old was he? I could’ve sworn he was my age, but maybe he’s one of those people that just has the aspect of looking young. Maybe he’s eighteen…and Liza’s a cougar. There are two things wrong with him being eighteen; I can’t date him and he’s in Liza’s reach. Just before my mind overheated from the negative thinking, Liza appeared out of nowhere. Like the witch she was. In red attire, of course.

“Jen, I thought you’d be at your little friend’s house?” she placed her clutch in my hand. Honestly, Liza always over dressed for everything. She wore heels and a dress when she came over for family game nights. I think even one time she wore mink for a coffee visit with my dad (she’s my dad’s half sister. He makes us call her Auntie Liza in front of him to make her feel like more part of the family. But I wouldn’t be caught dead referring to her as “Auntie”).

“I just came back. Liza, why are you here?” I slammed the clutch back into her stomach. Ow. Rock hard abs, like the fitness junkie she was. Always “hitting up the gym” and “working her buns off”.

“Now that’s rude,” she shot me a dirty look, “Come on, Pat.”

Patrick shrugged, and followed Liza inside our house. Every time she came over, she’d never actually have a real reason to be here. She’d just mope around the house, and complain about her previous boyfriend that left her for someone else. We were never shocked as to why he did so, which is why we never really asked. My mom would try and coax her out the door multiple times, but Liza would never buy any of it. She knew we didn’t like her at our house, glued to our couch, flipping through as many channels as possible before my dad finally would crack and tell her to sleep in the guest room. The guest room was the equivalent to her own little suite, my mom would cook breakfast in bed for her and she would sniff and say things like “Oh, you shouldn’t have to go through the trouble” and “I’m sorry I’m so needy”. My mom, trying to keep her cool for my dad’s sake, would reply, “It’s no trouble”.

Our house was basically a hotel for Liza. She lived in this crummy old apartment in Berkeley, with one room and a beat up old kitchen. We’d been there once for family game night, and all she had was Candyland. So we knelt on pillows around this coffee table with enormous dents and scratches. She never had enough money for a decent apartment or furniture because she always spent her money on expensive ugly clothes (the mink she owned was from our family to her, and was probably the only reason she hugged me for a good five minutes straight). And her gym membership was costly, due to the fact that she had a personal trainer named Vick from Germany.

“Jenna, Derek, Carol! In the family room, please! I have an announcement,” my dad’s voice boomed throughout the household. And suddenly, I was confused. Usually my dad only calls “family meetings” if someone broke a valuable glass or if my brother and I got good extremely good test marks. But school hadn’t even started, and everyone always knows about a glass breaking before we even step into the family room.

Derek zoomed by me, barefooted, “What’d ya do this time, Jen?”

“Nothing!” I rolled my eyes, “But Liza’s here.”

“Jesus Christ. Again? How many ti-”

“Enough gossiping about Liza,” my mother patted us both on the head, “I think the announcement has to do with her.”

“Let me guess, she’s staying for another week. Like in April. Ya know she always does-” I was cut short by my father looking furiously at all three of us as we entered the room. Liza was on the couch, legs crossed, running her fingers through her blonde pixie-cut. I had never seen her look more nervous in my life, and usually Liza was a confident (but hot tempered, of course) person. Patrick was playing with the duck figurines my mom had bought before I was born. He looked highly amused, pressing his fingers all along the sides-

“I don’t know how else to put this,” my dad began, “It’s a tough announcement. And we’re going to have to make minor adjustments.”

“Oh no,” I found myself saying out loud. Everyone shot me nasty looks, and I sunk into the couch.

“-I’m moving in,” Liza suddenly jumped in. The whole room fell smack into silence, because no one wanted this to be true. Not even my dad, I could tell. Everyone hated Liza in the house, always eating half the stock in our fridge and crying for days on end in front of the TV. It was like she was a hormonal teenager, the one none of the kids wanted to even come close to. Liza was another plague that paraded around my life. A skinny little plague that hung over everyone’s head. And now, she couldn’t be avoided.

My mother was the first to speak, “Well, it’ll be nice having someone more near Jenna’s age. She’ll be like a big sister figure.”

“Hardly,” I sneered.

“Thanks, Carol,” she reached over and squeezed my mother’s hand, “I just want you to know that I’m not only doing this because of the bad conditions I’m living under, but because I feel like I need to be closer to my family.”

The whole room stank of her bullshit.

“And this is Patrick. A friend’s son. He lives in the apartment underneath mine,” Liza touched Patrick lightly on the shoulder, “I brought him with me because he’s going to be helping me move some things from my abode, to yours.”

“Well, that‘s very kind of him. He‘ll be alongside Derek, Ernie, and myself,” my dad smiled.

Patrick flashed a bold smile and said, “No problem, man! Liza’s been like a sister to me. Always helping me with my homework-”

“You know she barely finished high school, right? My dad had to convince her to finish out her senior year,” my mouth was doing that thing, where it talks on its own…without an confirmation from my brain. Derek elbowed me in the ribcage, and Liza’s eyes burned my skin.

“That would explain why I’m still failing math,” Patrick let out a timid chuckle. Everyone in the room laughed cackles to cover up my little slip-up. But I had my reasons. Liza was the one person, that could just take my day and wring out every last bit of happiness just with one sentence. I couldn’t explain it, but there had always been something about her that wasn’t right.

“I’ll make some coffee to let this all soak in and we can discuss moving dates and such,” my mom sat up immediately and made her way towards the kitchen.

My mom was a computer techie- she found interest in fixing monitors and putting together slideshows. It was something that Derek and I were used to all our lives, having an older mother who actually knew what was going on when your file wouldn’t open up. She was known for running around the house telling us how to fix overheated laptop problems, or my dad’s famous orange juice on the keyboard. That was the thing that kind of ticked us off about her, though, she was always running around doing stuff and always in this tight-ass rush. Like there wasn’t time for anything, and if you couldn’t get something done right- she’d jump in and do it herself. I could never do my homework in front of her without her pointing out that my letters weren’t straight on the line. And Derek would trying to do projects in front of her, but she couldn’t help but sneak into the kitchen at night and re-painting the colors so they matched with one another. She was up-tight but nowhere near as bad as Mrs. James.

I remember a couple of events in the past where she had defended me from Cori’s mother, Lidia. Where she made sure that Cori and I remained friends despite what Lidia had thought in her own mind about me. My mother never understood why I kept taking the blame for so many things, and she had wanted to tell Lidia that all the things that she had screamed at me about were in fact Cori’s fault. I just couldn’t let her do that, and we both knew that if she did I wouldn’t be able to step foot in their house ever again. When the incident of me walking home alone at ten o’clock at night had reached my mother‘s ears and out her mouth; (she had used many colorful words) I knew that she had seriously lost it. She stormed around the house attempting to find a way for her actions to be illegal. With no luck, she decided to take matters into her own hands. And I mean, literally, in her own hands. She went across the street, and snapped all of her precious flowers right off the stem. She sprinkled petals across the lawn, and rammed her foot into bushes that Lidia had bragged about for months. It was hilarious watching my own mother rage across an entire lawn all in favor for me, and not wanting to take anymore of Lidia’s crap. The best part was, though, is that Cori didn’t even care a bit that her mom was devastated at the sight of her lawn when she awoke early in the morning. Cori laughed, and so did we, as Lidia tried to find clues leading up to me as the perpetrator. It felt good inside knowing that I had been my own blood that had done a good deed.

“Well, Liza, I’m glad that you decided to reach out to us,” my dad tapped Liza’s knee, “We’re always here with open arms.”

“Thanks,” she wiped a fake tear from the bottom of her jaw with her long red sleeve.

My dad was a really caring person, he had this need to take care of anyone he had ever come across. Which made him come off as kind of nosy, always peeking into everyone’s room checking if they’re all right. And kind of the same reason that he took Liza in. His patience is impeccable, too, which something that you have to have to hold a conversation with Liza, let alone discuss moving situations with that woman. She was probably requesting to take my father’s and mother’s room, or maybe even my room.

He was obsessed with family, hence our ridiculous family game nights every Thursday, where we would cease everything to play a game of cards or sometimes Taboo (the only good thing that came out of Liza moving in was that the teams were now odd numbered so someone would have to sit out due to my dad’s frustration with one team having one more member). This constant need to be around family really frustrated some of us in the household because it will usually involve Uncle Ernie and Claudia coming over almost every weekend. You could only handle so much of their “honeymoon” stage. He was inviting to any extended family spending nights over, but when it came to Liza I could tell he kind of lost all patience. I think everyone did.

It was only about a month ago when Liza came to visit, where my dad completely lost all control. He had spent the morning prior to her barging in figuring out what everyone wanted from the store (he always has to do this on his own, otherwise he’ll freak out). I stated my usual, Frosted Flakes and Holiday Black Tea whenever I ran low on my stash, and everyone carried on their marry way. Liza burst through the door right when my father was about to leave and smacked right into him. Not even a mumbled “sorry” from her mouth, as she pushed my dad out of the way, moaning and whining about some guy named Zach, the usual. But everything was different when she began so speak.

“He left me because of the mink,” she began, as my mom handed her some tea, “The mink. Can you believe it? He was some kind of animal saver guy.”

“Animal saver guy,” my brother scoffed.


“If you guys hadn’t gave me the damn mink, I would still be with the one man I love,” Liza angrily shook her head, and slammed the tea down on the coffee table.

“Liza, please, you’re being dramatic,” my dad rubbed his forehead, making his way over to try and comfort her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and, like he had some infectious disease, Liza slapped his hand away. She jabbed her index finger into his stomach and screamed, “Don’t touch me! You’re sick. Buying a dead helpless little animal.”

Right then and there my dad’s face morphed into something I had never seen before. It looked as if he ate something really sour with the combination of the face he made when he discovered I had been sneaking out for a week straight. I’m pretty positive that what Liza had said, created the impact of every moment that my dad had experienced all into one calm, cool, and collected whisper; “Liza, get out. Get out now before I show you the way out. Don’t come back until you understand how much we have to deal with your ass around here.”

“Excuse me?” Liza grazed her tongue across the top row of her teeth, breathing heavily, “You can’t kick me out. I’m your sister!”

“You’re my half sister, Elizabeth. Get out before I ban you from my house. Permanently,” my dad wrapped his lanky fingers around Liza’s top, and yanked her towards the door. She took one last look at all of us; Derek, my mom, my dad, and me just standing there- staring straight back at her. My brother, mom, and I were speechless while my dad was huffing with anger. Liza tightened her fists, shaking her head and whispered- in a choking voice; “I thought you loved me”. Tears were streaming down her freckled face, as she swung open the door and, before I could blink, it was closed again. There was no longer a fit, tiny, blonde woman in red standing at our doorway for awhile. It was a breath of fresh air for most of us, except for my dad who was in pain from so much guilt. He just moped around the house (hmm…kind of reminds me of someone), and we couldn’t go a Sunday breakfast without hearing Dad say something along the lines of; “Maybe I was too harsh” or “She is my sister. Should I give her a call?”. My mom was the only one who could convince him, after a month of whining, to give her a call. And that call lead to one thing, and another, then to her raising the most awful question ever to be asked by anyone: “Can I move in?”. And no one knew but dad knew, because he had kind of kept quiet about the conversation (this conversation between him and Liza went on for almost two hours, so obviously we were all curious).

“…And I think Jenna wouldn’t mind either,” my name suddenly popped up in the conversation. I snapped back into reality and said, “Wouldn’t mind what?”

“Haven’t you been listening, Jen?” my mom cocked her eyebrow. She was blonde, and had really sweet blue eyes- and I had always wished that I had inherited them because my light brown eyes were just so plain. My brother was blessed with the exact replica of my mom’s eyes, and dark black hair that my dad had. I got stuck with the typical black hair and light brown eyes- the only thing unique about my eyes though, was how big they are. I mean, big. Whenever I visited the eye doctor for a check-up they’d always crack jokes about me not being able to have glasses that would actually fit my eyeballs (we eventually found some though, no worries). I looked more like my mom with my facial features, though- with my ski-jump nose, high cheek bones, and small lips. And my figure/body-type was Carol West 2.0- we both bragged about our good figures to each other; we both had curvy hips but we weren’t too skinny or too overweight (perfect BMIs, if you will). We both had pretty flat butts, but I could live with that because I didn’t have a flat chest (far from it, actually). I guess you could say my mom and I were both proud of our body types and how good shape we were kept in. My brother looked just like my dad; with a masculine nose and big lips but his cheekbones obviously came from my mom (very feminine). My brother was odd looking, and girls mistook his weird features as “beautiful”. My mom was even shocked at the amount of girlfriends my brother had (we all were, really).

“I’ve been listening,” I nodded, “I just didn’t hear what you said.”

“We were discussing having Liza move into the guest room that connects with your room by the bathroom,” my mom suggested.

I gulped. I literally gulped. It was kind of a reflex, I didn’t even mean for it to be loud enough to have my dad shoot me a look.

“My bathroom’s kind of gross,” was all I could whisper.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can fix it up!” Liza chirped, and sat up on the edge of the sofa.

“Yeah, that’s the same thing you said about your apartment,” I snapped. Again; reflex. The smart ass reflex.

“Seriously, Jen?” Derek whispered.

“I’m sorry, it just slipped out!” I yelped.

“Rude,” Liza rolled her eyes.

Patrick wasn’t even making a peep, as he was still playing with the ceramic ducks, to avoid the awkward tension between him and this bat s*** crazy family that wouldn’t stop snapping at each other. His eyes met mine, and I smiled.

“The guest room is fine. Can I show Patrick where it is, give a tour of the rest of the house? So he knows the place more,” I quickly jumped to the point; I wasn’t going to let Liza crush my chances of actually talking to Patrick. It was now my main goal to achieve a friend basis with him.

“Good idea. And we can discuss other decisions without having another comment from the peanut gallery,” my mom raised her eyebrow and nudged her chin towards the doorframe. Normally, I would shot a remark, but my time with Patrick was precious.

“Fine by me,” and I sat up quickly, then gestured for Patrick to follow.

“Um, alright,” he set down the ducks, and slowly was up on his feet. Something about the way he said what he said, made me think he didn’t want to leave Liza’s side. Annoying.

Their voices echoed in the family room, while my bare feet slapped against the tile, leading Patrick to the carpet covered stairs. Our house was big, I had to be honest. I realized this climbing up the spiral staircase, taking in the fact that Patrick was used to a two room apartment as opposed to this crazy six bedroom house. When we approach the top, and looked over my shoulder down at the front door, with the giant chandelier hanging overhead. I headed right, down the hallway towards my room and soon to be Liza’s room.

“Why are you so rude to Liza?” Patrick asked out of the blue. I stopped in my tracks, and turned around- my face ramming into his stomach.

“Because she’s crazy,” I laughed coolly, but I found my palms sweating and my hands tugging at my shirt.

“Yeah?” Patrick shook his head, “No, she’s not. At all.”

“You don’t know her as well as I do,” I was suddenly getting really angry. Who was this guy? Coming into my house and stomping on my judgment of someone I’ve known all my life.

“No, I know her better,” he came closer to me, and I was looking straight up at his face, “Because I’ve actually given her a chance.”

“What?” I didn’t understand.

“Nevermind. Just show me the room,” he rolled his eyes, and place his hands on my shoulders. Is this guy bipolar? Did he just go from a Satan worshiper to some really sexy chill guy? I think he did.

“Okay, well,” I coughed, “Here’s the guest room.”

He poked his head inside, only for a millisecond. Then he snatched the doorknob, and slowly shut the door.

What was going on?

“What happened at the wedding?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Why were you crying, Jenna? Why were you crying so much?”

I blinked. “…it’s nothing.”

“Jenna-”

“I don’t know why I was.”

“You know why you were crying, you can’t just cry for no reason in front of a stranger,” Patrick rolled his green eyes.

“Why do you want to know so bad? It’s not really any of your business,” I scoffed, beginning to attempt to try and walk by him again.

“…I’ve just been wondering about it all these months,” he sounded serious, and I didn’t know what to do. My palms were sweaty, and I kept doing my “Jenna thing” by wiping them on my pants.

He stepped closer, and tucked my hair behind my ear. The door suddenly opened, and I shoved him back. I quickly turned around and flashed a big smile to Liza, who was raising her eyebrows.

“Let’s go, Pat,” she said slowly. Patrick’s feet made loud thumps on the hardwood floor, and when he reached the doorframe he looked over his shoulder. His eyes dropped, and pursed his lips. I waved, and then he shut the door closed.