“Dude,
that’s my sister.” He shrugged noncommittally.
“But
isn’t she wonderful? I mean, last night-“
“I
can’t talk about my sister in this context, man.”
“I
just want you to tell her-“ I started.
“Look,
if you want to tell my sister something, you can damn well tell her. I don’t
want details, and I’m not your go-between.”
*
* *
“Sorry,
my brother told you I didn’t want a boyfriend. Well, I don’t. I’m really
sorry.”
I
looked straight into her eyes. So pretty. She looked away. “I don’t want you to
be uncomfortable. I just thought there was something…” I tried to tell her how
much I cared and how she had always been beautiful to me and how I admired her
but never got the chance to get to know her and how I had wanted her so long
that I stayed awake at night thinking about how I might improve myself to be
worthy of her standards. But no words actually formed.
“God,
I’m sorry. We don’t have anything. You’re probably great, but I didn’t think
last night meant or changed anything.”
*
* *
“Why
can’t I be more than her brother’s best friend?” I demanded of my toothbrush.
He perked upright, bristly and not at all empathetic. I waited for a response
until I decided that personifying a hygienic item was not the answer. So I
called my best friend. I didn’t understand why the hell he wasn’t there for me
with ice cream or something.
*
* *
“Dude,
if I had a sister, I’d let you have her. If I had two sisters, I’d let you have
your pick. I don’t get why you aren’t helping me out.”
He
sighed in an exaggerated burst of phone-static. “You’re being an idiot; it’s
not up to me. At all. She’s my sister, not my bitch.”
*
* *
I
wrote her a letter about how her skin felt that night under the subtle rays of
moonlight. Poetic crap. I threw it away. I drew her a picture. That one was
gone before I finished it. My friend called.
“Man,
I hate to tell you, but you really need to know-“
“Yeah,
I’m like a toothbrush, I know. A really ugly, dumb, spiky fucking toothbrush.”
“Well-
actually, yeah, that sums it up.”
“Just
tell your sister that I’m sorry and I don’t deserve her and she should find a
better guy.”
He
smirked on the other line. “You’re such a fucking toothbrush, dude.”
Sage
7-24-12
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