Out of the corner of my eye I caught the blur of Marissa launching herself onto my bed. I wasn’t fast enough, and she landed spread eagle on top of me. “Get up.” I pushed with every ounce of my strength to dislodge her. With her four inch and twenty pound advantage, she didn’t budge.
“I can’t believe I was up before you.” She smacked me on the leg and pushed herself up.
“I was getting up.”
“No, you were processing.” She used air quotes when she said processing. With just eleven months between us, I vacillated between loving and loathing my younger sister. “Just like you do about everything. I hope they teach spontaneity at college, or better yet, being social.”
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