✅ My Sister's Problem

117. Head to Head

Once Mum was gone, I could sit and play with the toys spread out on the rug in the lounge. Lindy was happy to watch me for now, and she didn't seem like she was going to do anything else cruel. But it wasn't long before I imagined how it would feel if it were Hugo watching me like that. For a moment I wished that he would accept me, and would treat me like a child. Just like Mum and Lindy were doing. But then I remembered how worried he had been in all his messages, scared that I would hate him just for thinking of an idea that was just as appealing to me. I needed to tell him what had happened now, but I couldn't. I was trapped, helpless as a child. And as much as that excited me, I couldn't bear to think that I was making Hugo feel bad.

"Something wrong, baby?" Lindy asked. "Getting all upset because you can't beat me? What happened to getting back at me?"

I wanted to snap back at her, or to let her know how much she had hurt me. But I didn't even know what had happened with my phone; could that really be her fault? And when I thought about how Hugo could be feeling, how I would have felt if I'd sent such a personal message and then gotten no response, it was hard not to cry.

"How did you–?" I managed to say, but I didn't know what was going on anymore.

"Aww, little baby can't figure it out by yourself?" she said, and laughed. "I really got you good. But why so upset? You didn't mind about the thing with the medals."

"How?" I asked.

"I changed the wifi password," she said, and smiled. "The admin password is on a sticker on the bottom of the router, makes it easy to change the settings. Then you can't connect, and the 5G booster thing can't either. Suddenly everybody's offline. I tapped Mum's phone on the router to do the passwordless reconnect thing, didn't even need to unlock it, so she wouldn't notice. And then there's this app I got for my laptop. Lets you share your internet connection with your friends, called Live Hotspot. I named my laptop Beach House, so you'd try that instead of the actual network. And once you've done that... I wasn't actually connected to the Internet, so every page you try to view through it gives you an error. An error page that I designed, with just a single video clip on it."

"Damn, you're evil," I muttered. I couldn't believe I hadn't figured it out now; it seemed so simple. But I just hadn't had time to figure it out when that sound started playing.

"Don't be like that," she pouted. "You were almost proud of me for being so smart at the sports day. I thought I'd actually... You know, like I won this time. Why did you go from..."

I looked up at her, and I wished there was something I could explain. But I felt like I couldn't have found the right words even without the threads of childishness hanging off my mind.

"I don't understand what's changed," she said after a little while. "I've always been trying to compete with you, and it's always been fun. This summer, I guess I focused more on the baby thing. I thought... I was sure you were doing something, like what Harper tried with you. Now I'm not sure, maybe it was just chance. Or maybe you did it sometimes, but not every time. I just... It was so easy to get into that mindset of seeing it as a competition, where we're trying to do the same thing to each other. Does that make sense? Once I thought it was you, I was always trying to work out how you could have done it without my knowing. But whether it was or not, that was the thing on my mind. So every idea I thought of, it was all variations on the same theme. You know?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I kind of noticed that. I wasn't sure if it was just some kind of... if you thought it was revenge, or you just wanted to humiliate me."

"But it didn't work. Every year, we do these pranks. Back and forth. But if the bedwetting wasn't you, then this time it was all one sided. And I don't know, it's weird. Like I won, but I couldn't enjoy it. So I had to go one step beyond, always ramping it up. And I still didn't enjoy it. I was always trying to hit you harder, to get something that would really humiliate you. And I got a bit worried, too. There's probably some line in the sand somewhere. Where pranking turns into bullying. And maybe I'm coming close to that already. But like, I've won every round but it still feels like I'm losing. So I had to keep on trying."

"I think you crossed that line a few weeks ago," I said. "Maybe that's your conscience talking. You're not feeling proud of yourself because you know your games are just hurtful, not funny. Like this afternoon, with the medals. You enjoyed that, right?"

"Yeah. It was just a silly thing I saw when Mum came up with those times. Like how is a participation medal worth a quarter of a gold? And I thought why not run with that. So why was that fun? Why's it different?"

"Because you could show off how clever you are, using a loophole in the rules. And maybe that's something I could have an answer for. Something I could get you back for, if I could think of a response. But the rest of this stuff? That's just... it feels like you hate me, and that's not part of the game."

"Maybe you're right," she said with a shrug. "Does that mean making you wet yourself is off limits? Even if you're..."

"I promised I wouldn't do that. I meant it. And we agreed on that. Maybe that's why it feels hollow to you. Because you know you're not winning, you're just cheating. Doing the things you know I would never do because I don't want to make you miserable. But..." Then I took a deep breath. "I'm not going to say that's off limits. That's up to you, right? If you want to make me a baby, fine. But lying to Mum isn't fair. Rivalry means you against me, doesn't it? So can you stop with trying to frame me for that stuff? If you want to prank me, then do something funny so you can laugh at me. That's the whole point, isn't it?"

"Maybe," she mumbled. "So, you're really okay with me making you wet your pants?"

"I'm okay with you trying to. As long as you're not going to turn around and call it bullying if I try the same. Just don't try to make Mum think I've turned into a monster. And no trying to stop my friends trusting me. Right? Think about how you'd feel if I did that to you. It wouldn't be a laugh and a promise to get me back if I could make Niall never talk to you again. There's the rule. How about that, if we can call it a truce? I mean... before you do something, think about how you'd feel if I did it to you. If you'd hate me for it, then you shouldn't do it."

"Okay, fine," she grumbled. "I'll find something else to get you back with this time. I might have done something different, after you were laughing so much about the medals thing. That was fun. But I already had this set up, so... I promise, I won't try to hurt you again."

"Thanks," I mumbled, and realised that I was crying a little; going into all the deep emotional stuff as we'd been talking. Times like this, being a baby sounded really appealing. "But... it's still hard. Thinking about what Hugo will think, because he hasn't heard from me. Can you tell Mum, so I can reply to his messages, and then we're back to a fair competition again?"

"I don't think so. I'd be in so much trouble. Look, I'll text Hugo. Tell him that all the stuff about being a baby was just a practical joke, I've had your phone for the week so you haven't been able to talk to him."

"But–" I started, but Lindy didn't give me time to get a word in.

"And I can't let Mum know what you're so upset about. It'll have to be something else. Like because you're a baby. Now, poop for Mommy, little baby. And cry for Mommy too."

All the more complex thoughts on my mind just drifted away as I followed the babysitter's orders.