Oh, But You're An Explosion

I stood outside my dad's house and handed the cabby the money for the ride. He thanked me and hopped back in the car, leaving me on the curb with a bunch of bags in an extremely rich neighborhood, feeling completely under-dressed. I wanted to kick myself. I always forgot to wear something "presentable" when I came here. Dianne was going to bitch for hours.

"Anna! Anna, is that you?" someone shouted from the front door. I could see the blonde hair trying to dodge the sunlight, their hand being used as a visor. Dianne. "Oh, Anna, dear, come in! Don't just stand there!" she yelled, waving me over and smiling.

I mumbled to myself about her ability to help me carry my stuff being shitty and picked my stuff up, arranging everything so I could get it all in one trip. I looked like an idiot.

"Hey, Dianne." I smiled earnestly, trying to cover up for my thoughts. She could see right through me. We had never gotten along; she wanted me to be like her kids. Stuck-up and bitchy. Yeah, oh-kay.

She held the door open for me at least and frowned. "Nice... clothes, hun. How was the plane ride?" She was cringing, probably at my converse. Whatever. She can suck it.

"It was alright, actually. I sat between the typical fat guy and baby, but the baby was asleep and the fat guy had food, so everything was alright." I dropped my bags and looked around. They had done some re-styling since the last time I was here, I guess. Well, considering that was about... ten years ago I could understand that.

"Oh, that's... good. I think. Oh, n-no! Could you... take your stuff up to your room? They were on the sidewalk and I don't want them to get anything on the carpet." She nearly threw a tantrum before I picked them up and sighed, stomping my way up the stairs and to one of the guest bedrooms. I guess it's now been dubbed mine.

It was completely quiet, so I was guessing that my step-siblings were gone. Thanks God. They were such assholes sometimes, I swear. They act like they're famous critics or something; always telling me how I should dress and how I could be so much prettier if I tried. I had two words to say: Fuck that. I was completely content with myself.

I was pretty much the Cinderella of my dad's side of the family, except that my dad was still alive and Dianne would rather have me in a straight-jacket than touch her beautiful antiques. My fingerprints weren't good enough for her amazingly gorgeous household items. I was stuck with chopsticks from take-out while they were using extremely expensive silverware. And my dad never said anything about it, so he pretty much was dead to me.

"Anna!" I heard a voice shout from my doorway. Funny, I hadn't even heard it open.

When I turned around I almost choked on my breath. My little sister was standing there, a smile on her face. But that face wasn't my little half-sister's face - no, this was a much older face. I hadn't seen her since she was four. I used to drag her around the house like a baby doll because I was too short to carry her, but she didn't want down and I didn't want her down. I loved that kid more than life itself. But that was ten years ago and I was praying that my step-siblings hadn't gotten to her.

"Hey, Taylor! Oh my god, it's been so long!" I stood by my closet in awe, wanting to give her a hug but afraid that she would reject me. This was the uneasiest I'd been in a very, very long time. I had forgotten about her.

Then she ran over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Oh, Anna! I've missed you!"

Really, I was surprised she'd even remembered me. She was, after all, four the last time I saw her. I didn't think kids that age had that great of a memory.

"I've missed you, too, Taylor." I squeezed her tight and she pulled away, her blue eyes twinkling. It was then that I realized she was taller than me. I furrowed my eyebrows. "You're... You're taller than me!" I was almost insulted. I mean, seriously? Could my step-mom have at least one child that wasn't absolutely perfect? Ugh, probably not.

She blushed and I felt bad. "Yeah, I know. I'm 5'5". It sucks, though. Everyone else is shorter than me and daddy won't let me date guys that are over fifteen. No fifteen-year-old guy is going to be this tall yet! Seriously. What a joke." she laughed, throwing her arms in the air for dramatic effect. I had the impulse to hug her again, so I did. I squeezed her brains out, making her laugh. "What?" she asked, pulling away again.

I fixed my hair in amazement. "They haven't brain-washed you! You're normal!" I almost sang in joy.

"Who? Michael and Vanessa?" I nodded. "Oh, no. God no. That would be weird. I couldn't act like that. They're so... so..." She couldn't even finish her sentence.

I laughed. "Yeah. No kidding."

"Yeah, but you haven't had to live with them for fourteen years." she said, plopping down on my bed and sighing. I instantly felt bad for her. That really, really had to suck. So instead of spending time with everyone else that night she decided that she wanted to help me put all of my stuff up in my room and catch up. I was grateful I had someone here with me that understands the way my mind works.