I walk into my room to see my bed covered with …female undergarments. Gross.
"Hi!" my sister says.
"Why?" I say, gesturing to the colorful mess that is my bed. She turns red and shoves most of it in her drawer.
"Nothing." she says. "Why are you home anyways? Didn't you have some nerdy-ma-jig or something?"
I roll my eyes. "Chess club meeting was cancelled. Why are you all defensive anyways? You're just doing laundry."
She blushes again. "Can you please scootch?" she tells me, arms crossed over her chest. Her right eye is twitching, which doesn't happen unless she's seriously PO'd.
"You don't have to be a donkey about it." I say. I was hoping that would make her laugh but it doesn't.
"Just go. PLEASE." she says. I set my backpack down on the floor and I start to walk out the door. Then a sudden disturbing realization goes through my mind.
"Oh my God. Oh My GOD." I say, making a face. "Please don't tell me-"
"Yes! Okay? YES! I'm thirteen!" she says. "It's not a BAD thing to have to wear a BRA!"
I cringe at the sound of the word. "You have GOT to be kidding me. You seriously have to wear that? " I moan, looking at the ceiling, and then I burst out laughing. The horrific male teenager brain arouses several questions, which I quickly attempt to erase from my mind forever. "Are you…okay?" I ask, catching my breath, which was probably incredibly stupid, but seemed intelligent considering the options my brain had offered.
"I'm FINE." she snaps. "Why would I not be okay? It's just growing up."
" It's not my fault you're a girl." I say.
She's smiling now. But that's not a REAL smile. Oh god no…
"You know, twins do everything together, right?" she says.
"Uh…no." I reply. She's walking towards me.
"I think it might be easier if…" she says, tackling me onto the floor.
"What the he-" I say, and she looks at me sternly in the middle of my sentence while forcing something on me. I try to shove her off but she grabs onto my shirt.
"Mabel, what the heck?!" I say, pushing. She won't stop tickling me now.
"What? Sorry, couldn't hear you." she says, and bursts into a laughing fit since I returned her favor.
She eventually lets me up once I promise to let go of her hair, and pretends to hug me. When she lets go I look down and realize that she's strapped one of the torture devices on top of my shirt.
"Oh, yeah, very funny." I say, reaching back to try to unhook it. It's hard. I can't do it. I fumble around for about ten minutes while she sits on her bed laughing at me.
My mom walks by and sees Mabel rolling around laughing and me trying to unhook the bra that was forcefully strapped to my chest.
"Should I even ask?" she says. I vigorously shake my head no, and Mabel sits up.
"Well, Dip was being a jerkface about bras and girl stuff, so I put one on him to teach him a lesson."
Mom walks over and unhooks the bra for me and I throw it at my sister. "Gross! You can keep this one! It's got your guy sweat and stuff all over it!" she squeals.
"Where would I find a use for it?" I ask. "You know what, don't answer that question."
She glares at me. "No being a jerk for future girl stuff, okay?" Mabel says.
"As long as you never force one of THOSE on me ever again." I say.
"Deal?"
"Deal."