"Mum, please! This is stupid." I overheard my freshly turned 18 year old sister whining. Which was out of character for her because she used to be quiet, not so easily miffed. At least she had been that way since I got home from my semester abroad. I listened to the exchange between my mum and sister out of pure curiosity.
"No bloody way am I leaving my car keys, Semira. You've got thirty seven days left of punishment and then we'll have a chat about trust. Now, if you need to go anywhere, Roger has his car. Ask nicely and he may give you a lift. John and I will be in France for the next nine days then we'll be off to Germany, I'll ring your bell you when we touch down." I heard the familiar sound of my mum's double cheek kiss just before she started towards my room. I met her in the doorway with open arms. Her dark eyes smiled at me before coming in for a hug.
"Don't worry, mum. I'll keep an eye on our girl," I assured her. I felt her small frame sigh before kissing both of my cheeks.
"Please do, I'm not entirely sure what's been going on with her lately, but she needs somebody to talk to. Just try for me, Roger."
I nodded my head, "Of course, mum. Have a safe holiday with your boy toy." I added cheekily. She pursed her lips at me in mock annoyance. I smiled back at her and accepted another round of her cheek kisses.
"Don't make me rethink you being my good child, Roger. I love you," she added just before leaving for the next three weeks. Finally, I thought to myself, I can get some alone time with my wayward sister. I did want to know about the obvious changes in her. I could have sworn she had lost weight and gained a whole new wardrobe in the last six months. The change worries me only because she used to be a girly, pink sporting popular school girl and the woman I saw now looked like she belonged to a Joan Jett cover band. I found Semira in her gallery painting a scene of sorrow that I couldn't possibly understand. I wanted to, however...
"Mira, my heart is bleeding gazing upon your works."
Her dark, exotic eyes caught mine but quickly darted away. Mira was a spitting image of our mum. Same height, weight, same black waves of hair, and of course their faces. I swear my mum just cloned herself. From a very young age, I noticed they didn't look at me the same.
"Did mum ask you to come have a chat?" She asked me instead of focusing on my obvious intention. My feet took my body farther into her art room so that I could take in all the different works. I could tell which paintings were the oldest because they seemed lighter, happier, and more like the girl I had been looking for the past few weeks since being home. Our mum was born in Turkey but her parents had moved to the UK when she was quite young. While at university, she had met our father who had been in the Queen's Army. They married and had us, but their happiness didn't last long because father had been sent to Afghanistan where he was shot and killed. Mum had a posh career but the government had paid her handsomely for her husband's sacrifice thus landing us our posh manse just outside of London. Having a big house and a wealthy mum had made Semira and I quite popular in school though we didn't go around rubbing our lifestyle in other's faces. We always acted humble and never once had either of us been known to bully like the other rich, popular kids. It wasn't in our nature. Plus, we had always been close, only 13 months between us in age, we could relate well. That is until I had left for university in America. In such a short time, Semira and I had grown up and apart. I didn't know her anymore, and that scared me.
"It wouldn't matter," I began, "even if she did ask me to have a chat, I would've on my own. What's happened to you? Last holiday you seemed fine and now? Well, I hardly recognise you."
Semira chuckled at me but then sighed as if she was tired. "Rog, Christmas holiday was brief. You didn't stay the whole time because you had that project due in America."
That's right, I had left early to finish for my group. "Yeah, but something happened after I left, didn't it?" I asked her again.
Her expression darkened but the an idea sparked in her brain, I could see her wheels turning.
"I'll tell you about it on two conditions, dear brother," she goaded me. I took the bait.
"Name them," I fired back.
Her smile almost seemed genuine then, "We'll play twenty questions over a bottle of reserve. I'll ask and you'll answer before I give up my darkness. Deal?"
I liked this game, plus the wine wouldn't hurt. In fact, I was willing to bet it was going to make the conversation much easier on Semira. I nodded my head in agreement.
"I'll meet you in the billiards room in a quarter hour." Semira agreed then followed me out of her gallery headed towards her wing of the house. I decided to change into my night clothes for our nights could go on and on and I knew I'd be falling into bed by the end of the night. Then I ventured down to the vast wine cellar beneath the kitchen to pick out two bottles of the less likely to be missed reserves. Just before heading to the billiards room, I stopped to grab two glasses. Semira had beat me there with the obvious thought to get comfortable as she was in a matching pajama set that mum had got her just this last Christmas.
At least it was yellow instead of black. Though I couldn't help noticing that the set fit her loosely. I also appreciated the sleeveless top that showed her arms off.
"Hello governor," I said playfully. I handed her a glass before setting mine down. Thankfully, this room of the house was fitted for entertaining providing both a chilling hold for the bottles and a corkscrew to pop their tops. I didn't waste time in filling both glasses before sitting on the settee adjacent from my sister's chaise lounge.
"Alright, do your worst." I prompted her.
Semira's dark eyes closed in appreciation of the wine. I hadn't tasted it yet.
"Mmm, that's lovely," she said approvingly. "How is America, university, girls, and the visage? Don't mince words, Rog."
I blew out a sigh, "America is America. The land of unsolicited opinions and more people who disagree. I like school because it keeps me distracted. All of my classes are designed to prepare me for a career in communications and there are two teachers that are quite fond of me. The sights aren't great mostly because we've seen Rome, Prague, Paris and Salisbury. Makes America seem inauthentic. Though, I can say the east coast is in some ways like home. The people have such rich taste and need for caste systems, I have to remind myself I'm in America." I stopped to pull long drags from my glass. A refill was imminent.
"What about the girls? You're ducking that part of the question." Semira reminded me.
"Ugh, I don't look at the girls, Mira. They're all self obsessed and wear too much damn makeup. Not to mention, they're worse than men when it comes to casual sex."
"So they're the same as they are here?" Semira asked smiling.
"Yeah, I guess. Not all the girls here are so bad, you know." I said teasingly. The words came from a loving place, but my reasons for saying them were a bit darker. I wanted Semira to open up to me, needed her to, though I didn't know why at that moment. Her eyes dropped just before she finished off her glass. Behind my settee was the bottle so I reached around to retrieve it then proceeded to fill our glasses back up. Once settled, I scooted closer to my dear sister. My wine tolerance wasn't great and already I found myself feeling a bit fuddled.
"What about you, dark princess? Any men caught your eye while I've been away?"
Semira looked me right in the eye. "Would you like to play a game?" She asked nodding towards the billiards table. I narrowed my eyes at her noticing a pain in her that she was desperately trying to hide.
"Mira, talk to me. Tell me what has you so twisted up, please? What happened after I left?" I begged her. Her eyes fell and I could see the welling of tears upon her lids. I stretched out my hand and lightly stroked her cheek. She didn't flinch and her eyes locked on my own.
"Roger, we aren't close anymore," Semira said frankly. Her words cut into my heart mostly because they were true. "Why did you leave?" She asked me quietly.
"I thought you needed the chance to become your own woman outside of being my little sister. We had the same friends, hung out at the same places, did the same things, and even slept in the same bed together a few times. I didn't want you to become me, so I decided to go to America for uni. Once I was there, I realised the only person who actually knew me was half a world away and I knew I had made a mistake, but then I saw you at Christmas and you seemed so happy. So well adjusted to life without me around. I guess I thought you were better off." I paused then because I knew I had lied. "I thought if I broke away from you, we would learn to lean on other people. I gave it an honest try, but you never left me." I looked into Semira's eyes and found that same look she always gave me when I divulge my heart to her.
"Am I the reason why you never dated anyone in school?" She finally asked me after several moments of silence. I had already finished another glass of wine and without answering her question, I stalked out towards the kitchen. I was starving, so I decided to cook up some dinner. Semira had followed me, bringing our nearly empty bottle with her. I had a pot of water boiling for pasta and had started to make mum's favorite garlic butter sauce to throw over top our noodles. I prepared the food without words and desperately tried to shake off Semira's last question. Somehow, I knew I hadn't escaped answering. She wasn't far off, though and that was what chilled me to the bones. All the years before, I thought I had kept my admiration well hidden, or at least covered it up as brotherly love. If she had noticed, who else had?
