The rumbling in your stomach makes your decision for you, and the smell of toasted bagels downstairs calls to you.
You head down the stairs, turning the corner in to the kitchen you see your sister, Erin, standing over a seriously dubious looking tofu scramble.
Erin, always quick to sense a slight, immediately notices the look of derision on your face and bristles visibly.
“If you don’t like’em you can starve. Mom asked by to make breakfast, and I’ve made a healthy breakfast.” You make a mental note to question your stepmom about the wisdom of asking the vegan to cook breakfast.
Erin was wearing a black pencil skirt and a v-neck sweater. Erin was sort of the odd one out of your siblings. She had the brown hair and the brown eyes, but her skin was much lighter and she was therefore much more generic looking and boring.
Consequently, she had over-compensated for as long as you can remember by using every ridiculous trick in the book to try to make herself look more attractive. She mostly succeeded in turning herself in to a hoochie. She’d bleached her hair blond, and she wore cheap contact lenses to make her eyes green. She worked at a lingerie store, so her average body was always supported by the best technology money can buy.
“No thanks, I’m going to make myself a breakfast sandwich. With egg... and cheese… and bacon!” Antagonizing Erin was definitely a favorite pass time. She was an easy target. And her resentment towards you and Rachel had turned her in to a real piece of work. She was constantly trying to work angles to make both of your lives harder.
“I’m working with the P.GOAT today, would you like me to try to broker a peace between you two?”
The P.GOAT (Prettiest Girl of All Time, like Ali, get it? God, go read a book) was your nickname for Joelle, a girl at school who you’d had a crush on in the second half of last year. Unfortunately, Joelle had gone to work with Erin at the lingerie store, and they’d become friends. Erin had been putting poison in Joelle’s ear all summer, and had apparently told her about your nickname.
“Yeah, you laugh it up Erin, but for that bit of evil doing, I will have my revenge. Oh yes, I will have my revenge. Remember, I know where you sleep, where you shower, and I know where the bodies are buried, or at least which drawer your bureau they’re in.” That last bit seemed to get her attention.
“You won’t do anything. You’ve always been a candy ass, and I can smell a bluff a mile away.” Sadly she was probably right, you were too much of a softie to actually plot something, but if something fell in to your lap? Well, who’s to say?
“Anyway, enjoy your heart-attack and murder sandwich, I’m heading to work.” Having said that, Erin turned around, and stepped out the front door.
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