Page 7 of Versions Of Us

“You know me so well.” She aims a sly grin my way. Katie loves her career as a real estate agent. Possibly more than she loves anything else. “Actually, it’s Dad’s birthday next week and I wanted to see if you wanted to chip in and get him that golf club set he’s been hinting about.”

“Ah, yeah. Sure. Okay.” My gaze tilts to the ground, my palm coming up to rub the back of my neck.

I know without a doubt that a new set of golf clubs is more than I can afford, even when I’m only paying half.

Katie, sensing my hesitancy adds, “I mean, you don’t have to. If you can’t afford it, I’ll just get it.”

I can’t help but notice the curtain of smugness that falls over her perfectly made-up face.

There it is. Insult number two. I can’t deny my reluctance is due to the fact that I earn less money than her, but it still hurts.

“No, it’s cool,” I say. I’m determined not to let her get the better of me. “I’ll pick up an extra shift at the bar next week.”

Or three.

“Are you still working at that old place? I’m surprised it’s still standing.” She picks up a pile of unopened mail from my kitchen bench and begins flicking through the envelopes.

And there it is. Number three.

I nod, my lips pursed to form a thin line. “Yeah. Look, if that’s all you wanted to talk about, I really should get going. I have errands to run.” I grab the mail out of her hands, slamming it back down on the counter.

“Errands?” she eyes me curiously, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she’s pissed me off. “What kind of errands?”

Of course, this mystifies her. The fact I might actually have something better to do than sit around here listening to her insult me.

“Well, groceries, as you so kindly pointed out. Then I’m probably going to meet up with Kristen.” I spin around, reaching for my baseball cap and wallet.

“Wow. You still haven’t scared her away yet, huh?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, my back still turned to her as I stretch the cap over my head. It’s getting really hard to bite my tongue here.

“Not yet,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Enjoy that. It’s only a matter of time before she comes to her senses.” She laughs casually, as though she hasn’t just said the most hurtful thing she could possibly say to me. “Okay. I’ll be in touch with you about the golf clubs.” She flicks her straight blonde hair over her shoulder and opens the door.

“Looking forward to it.”

“See you ’round, little brother,” she says cheerfully as she skips down the front steps two at a time.

“It’s been a pleasure as always,” I say to the closed front door after I swing it shut.

I throw my wallet back down on the kitchen bench, a frustrated sigh escaping me.

It wasn’t always like this between the two of us. Sure, we’d always had different interests, but Katie and I had been inseparable as kids. We spent countless hours plotting pranks and terrorising the neighbourhood. Then at some point, Katie stopped being my partner in crime and started being the bane of my existence.

I haven’t always considered myself the black sheep of the family either. But I do now.

If I had to pinpoint the exact moment everything changed, I’d say it was around the time our family made the move to Cliff Haven, no more than a week after our sixteenth birthdays. That was when I realised my sister was going to be more successful than me at pretty much everything. My parents started paying more attention to the things she did, and they seemed to lose interest in trying with me.

Katie has a way of infuriating me like no one else. I feel my nostrils flare as I scan the living room, my eyes settling on the cherry red drum kit in the corner. My own personal stress-reliever when I need to blow off steam.

I march over to the corner of the room, taking a seat on the small black stool. I reach for a set of sticks from the ground in front and I pound the skins until my back is slick with sweat and my arms and shoulders burn.

This thing is my saviour when my temper boils. Drumming keeps my emotions in check like nothing else on this planet but today I’m finding my frustration a little harder to shake.

Katie revels torturing me. And I’m used to it.

But what she said about Kristen cut a little deeper this time.

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