Page 85 of Like You Want It
And it didn’t work for me.
“All those students are a bunch of Carly’s,” I say.
He playfully narrows his eyes and I break into a fit of giggles.
“Sorry to break it to you, big brother, but a lot of students aren’t really focused on what you’re saying. Not everyone can love school as much as you do. Starting college… it’s scary. And some of the people in your class are probably really struggling with a lot outside of schoolwork.”
My statement, while intended to be light-hearted, speaks strongly of the challenges I faced during my one and only semester at the local community college. The struggles I had with the academic work and the desire to have a good time to escape the fear of failure.
A few minutes later, once we’ve moved on from the talk of tardy college students and moved on to Ari’s recent enrollment in a nearby daycare, Christine pulls up into the driveway in her sleek black BMW, a thumping bass emanating from it until she turns it off and steps out.
I groan internally.
Christine is one of those women who absolutely has to look good all the time. And that is saying something, considering how much I enjoy doing my hair and makeup.
If I had to put her into a category with someone famous, I’d say she’s a Kardashian. Or like those moms from the Real Housewives shows. Obsessed with her looks, incredibly self-absorbed, and desperate for attention.
“Where did you say she was today?” I ask on a whisper.
“She went grocery shopping.”
“All day?”
Caleb shrugs, and it strikes me then that they just orbit around each other, interacting only when necessary, accepting what the other has that they want, but not caring about the rest.
And that makes me sad for my brother.
Because I want him to be in a relationship with someone he really loves. Someone he can’t get enough of.
Christine pushes down her sunglasses and briefly observes me sitting on the steps with Caleb. It isn’t just that she doesn’t like me. It’s that she seems intensely offended by my very existence.
To some degree, I understand her frustration. She overheard me basically talking shit about her to my brother, encouraging him to drop her before she used him and he was trapped.
Like, I get it. That’s not what you want to hear from your fiancé’s sister. Totally understandable to be upset.
But I just want to shake her sometimes and be likehey lady, sometimes you have to be nice to people you don’t like so that life is easier for everyone and that’s just how the world works.
But obviously I don’t do that.
Though it becomes more and more appealing the more that time passes.
Instead, I do everything I can to work on the relationship. To be kind and grateful when I’m around her. Other than that, I don’t know what else to do.
“Do you need any help?” I call out, standing and dusting my hands off on my pants.
She flicks her long, inky black mane of hair over her shoulder and gives me a smile that is anything but sweet. “Oh no, I’m fine,” she replies. “You go ahead and sit around not doing anything. No big deal.”
The veiled implication in that response is not as veiled as she thinks it is.
Or maybe that was the point.
I refrain from glancing at Caleb.
I learned early on that instead of managing his relationships, and clarifying to Christine that some of the things she says are interpreted as offensive, he gets a little cowardly, choosing instead to avert his eyes and focus on something else so he can pretend he didn’t hear it.
Now, I amnota person who thinks a husband should put his wife ‘in her place.’ That’s some biblical bullshit that I do not connect with in any capacity.
But I do think that if your spouse or significant other says something hurtful or inappropriate, you should talk to them about it and make sure they understand why it wasn’t okay. To your sister, your friend, your coworker, whoever.
