Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Grace.
All my life I've been forced to stand in my older sister's shadow.
I've lost countless friends, crushes, and – though it might sound childish – attention to her. My sister is one of those dazzling types that you just find yourself drawn to. So friends? The few I've made dropped me like a hot potato as soon as they meet her. She's only two years my senior, it doesn't matter to them. Boys? They don't see me in the first place. They only see her; her bright, perfect smile; her slim, curvy figure; and her large, doe-like eyes.
And attention? Oh, don't get me started. She's my parent's 'golden child', the apple of their eyes. She can do no wrong. I just...fade away when she's there. A slightly awkward, just-passing student doesn't stand a chance against a beautiful, straight-A student. Even her job took everyone's attention!
A news reporter.
She became a news reporter.
Gag me with a spoon.
Don't get me wrong, I love my sister. She's nice and funny and looks after me. But there's something about her that just...irritates me. My uncle, the closest thing I have to a friend, calls it a petty, teenage sibling rivalry that I never grew out of. Maybe he's right.
But in my whole life, there's one thing that she stole that actually mattered to me.
His name's Bernard Green, and he is – was – a museum curator at the museum across from the place I work.
My name is Grace Ritchi.
And this is my story.
When you live with someone like Roxanne for long enough, you begin to recognize signs that they're there before you even see them.
Adoring stares from men – old and young?
Check.
Admiring whispers from middle-aged women?
Check.
Distracted staff, glancing around every so often to see if she's there?
Check.
And finally, jealous and reluctantly respectful mutters from teenage girls and young women?
Double check.
"Grace!" Roxanne cries as soon as she sees me, rushing up to me and throwing her arms around me in a hug. Did a camera just go off? She's that famous?
"Hi, Roxanne," I say with a forced smile, trying to pry her off of me. She smells, like always, of cotton candy and bubblegum. Not an unpleasant smell. If you don't link it to years of neglect.
"How was your flight?" Roxanne asks me with that perfect, million dollar smile that our parents bought. She makes a gesture and a chubby boy with unruly red hair rushes to push my trolley for me.
"It was okay," I say, twisting my mouth in what I hope is a smile. "Um...thank you for letting me stay with you."
Roxanne throws her head back in a laugh and I see the chubby boy look at her longingly. "Oh, don't mention it! I know how mom and dad get about grades."
Bet you don't. When have you ever gotten something other than an A?
"Yeah..." I mutter awkwardly, fiddling with the strap of my backpack. See, the only reason I've been flown out across the country to live with my darling older sister is because my parents don't find my continuous failings at college amusing. It's not that I'm dumb. I love reading. Mainly history and mythology. But the subjects at school don't really hold any relevance to what I like to read. Maths? English? Chemistry? What history book teaches those?
We reach Roxanne's news van and I struggle to help the chubby boy load my suitcases into it. Roxanne smiles knowingly at me at the resounding thud it sends out when it drops into the van.
"Books?"
I don't answer. I don't have to.
Roxanne laughs. "You have not changed one bit, Grace."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I joke half-heartedly as I climb into the van. Roxanne follows me and soon the van is tearing out of the car park.
"So how's life?" Roxanne asks me pleasantly, sitting on my bed with her legs crossed and watching me unpack. "Made any new friends?"
"Oh, yes," I say unenthusiastically. "Their names are Zeus and Tutankhamun. They're great friends. So loyal and trustworthy. Not very big talkers though."
Roxanne laughs, not at all offended by my sulky manner. "I'm serious! What about boys?"
"What about them?"
"Have you met anyone?" Roxanne elaborates. "What about Fred? He was nice; I remember you took a liking to him."
"Oh, you mean the one who breached security at the airport and caused your plane to be delayed for four hours...just so he could say goodbye to you?" I ask. Roxanne frowns.
"That was him? Well, oops...Tom?"
"Head of your fan club at college now," I say sourly.
"Jake?" Sheesh, she doesn't give up, does she?
"He in hospital because he attempted suicide after you left." What a morbid, morbid thought. "Look, I know you mean well, but most of the guys in my life are in love with you. So drop it."
Roxanne looks hurt. Oh I'm sorry, did I hurt your pretty little feelings? Get over it. "I'm sorry, Grace, I just wanted to catch up with my little sister."
"Well thanks for the sentiment, but there's really nothing to catch up on," I say as kindly as I possibly can while glaring at her. "Now...the bathroom?"
"You have your own en suite," Roxanne says a little frostily. I think she's beginning to regret letting me stay here for God knows how long. She points to behind me. "In there."
I turn around and open the immaculately painted door. Inside is a clean, pristine bathroom. That's carpeted. Like what? Who carpets a bathroom?
"Thanks, Roxie," I tell her as sincerely as possible, trying to smile at her. I guess she sees the amount of effort I put in, because the corner of her lips twitch. She rises up and heads to the door.
"I'll go order lunch. What do you feel like?"
"Thai."
She looks surprised. "I didn't know you liked Thai food."
There's a lot about me that she doesn't know, evidently.
I turn around as a dismissal and continue unpacking. As soon as the door clicks shut, I abandon my unpacking and dig out a book on Ancient Greece. It's thick and worn, and smells like dust. I've had it for what seems like forever. It's so old that some of the information is kind of outdated, but I don't mind.
I crawl onto the double bed and crack it open slowly, smiling at the musty pages. I sigh and wriggle a little on the comfortable sheets. Roxanne might be...Roxanne, but she's got good tastes. And expensive. Must've gotten that from our CEO parents.
My gaze falls on some of the framed pictures Roxanne has on the wall. More than half of them are of her and I. They date all the way back to when I was just born, all the way until just before Roxanne left.
Oh Roxie.
Why do you make it so hard for me to hate you?
So...this is a short chapter. The others will be longer. By the way, some people may find Roxanne a bit OOC in regards to her attitude towards Grace's snippiness, but I like to think she's a softie when it comes to her family :) Review please ^^