10 Things I hate About Her (10 Things #1)

3. What is Pain?

I found myself suffering from pangs of regret that made me hungry and full at the same time. Was it possible to forgive myself for hurting Cassandra? Did hurting her make me a villain? Or maybe it was better to say that below the surface, all humans were villains. These were the thoughts that filled my head as I helped my mother with breakfast on Saturday morning. I flipped the French toast, the sauce sizzled on the oil. I shook the pot over the flame, letting the heat spread throughout. A sweet smell I would have enjoyed on any other day. But sickening in that moment. 

My mother sliced some fruits for a glass platter shaped like a sunflower. She asked, "What time's the concert?"

"Ten."

"In the night?" There was a slight edge to her voice, and I decided to proceed with caution.

"Yes."

"Why couldn't they start earlier?"

"Because another group uses the stage at eight and finishes about nine thirty, then they have to clean and then Jasmine Donn has to set up, and maybe catch a quick rehearsal. Then us, little audience members enter and scream till our throats are raw. And then Jasmine finishes at about eleven, and I go home for the night. I should be here by midnight."

A long exhale from mother. "I just don't like the idea of you being out so late."

"I will be safe, if anyone follows us, I'll kick them in the nuts."

A small smile. "Midnight," she repeated.

"Midnight." I kissed her cheek and carried a plate of French toast to the table. I set up the utensils, brought the bowl of scrambled eggs and cups of rose tea. As mother brought the fruits, I sat down, my duty fulfilled. My sister rushed into the room, ready to eat despite not helping in the slightest. A horrid girl, she was. She was tall and lithe. As she passed, she flipped her hair so it whipped the side of my face. I stuck up my middle finger. And she told mother like the evil witch she had always been.

Mother said, "Be nice to your sister."

"She's a brat," I explained. "Can't we send her to the zoo? They can put her next to the monkeys."

Juliana stuck out her tongue.

I gave her a slow applause. "Wow, so mature. The more I think about it, the more I think we should put you with the talking parrots, that way you can talk to someone whose head is as empty as yours."

She sat next to me and said, "Nice fall the other day."

"I tripped."

"No, you were tripped, see the difference?" She smirked. "You got beat by a girl; you got beat by a girly girl." She smirked.

"We still won," I said and turned to mother. "This is why you should send us to different schools. She has no respect for her elders."

Juliana laughed. "Elder? You're what? Five seconds older?"

I narrowed my eyes and muttered, "Five minutes, twelve seconds, 23 milliseconds."

Juliana grew bored of me and changed the subject. "Hey, mom. Is it alright if I go to a concert tonight?" Juliana asked.

"Couldn't you have asked earlier?" Mom replied in the ticked-off tone she had perfected.

Juliana said, "I forgot."

The two women had a brief staring contest, and then mother sat down. "No."

Juliana cried, "Why not?"

"Because your sister is going to one."

Juliana said, "She can stay home."

To which I retorted, "So can you."

Juliana continued, "I already brought my ticket."