Chapter two

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The beat of the music thrums through my chest as we park our bicycles in the driveway of Colin's house, which he shares with a few of his teammates

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The beat of the music thrums through my chest as we park our bicycles in the driveway of Colin's house, which he shares with a few of his teammates.

"Are you sure he's going to like this?" I ask August as I'm walking up to the front door, clutching Colin's neatly wrapped birthday present in my hand.

It's a set of handkerchiefs on which I embroidered his initials, each one in a different color, and some of them in hieroglyphics because August told me he likes the history of ancient Egypt.

"I didn't have much time but I didn't want to plainly give money because it's so impersonal."

Colin's birthday was two weeks ago but since, according to August, he wanted to make sure all his close friends were able to attend his birthday party, he had to push back the date to tonight.

In truth, I had two weeks to make him a birthday present. Even though that might seem like plenty of time, it's not nearly enough when your two closest friends, one of which is related to the birthday boy and the other one romantically involved with him, are unable to give you an idea for a present.

After a week of suggesting ideas, from coffee mugs to paintings, the handkerchief won, and I was left with one week to finalize my idea, gather all the materials, figure out how to read and write hieroglyphics, draw the design and embroider until my fingers dared to fall off my hands.

"Luus, he's going to love it, no doubt. I gave him a tiara and he was ecstatic," August beams, the glint in her eyes telling me the memory brings her joy.

"Why haven't you told us this and more importantly, why haven't I seen any pictures of it?" Brooke chimes in, ready to morph any type of story August tells us into ammunition she can use against her brother.

Like a raccoon in a dumpster, Brooke searches for the treasure in the trash.

Anything to annoy him.

Whereas Colin and Brooke share the bickering kind of sibling love, I have the tendency to show the, as my 3 siblings like to call it, overbearing kind of sibling love.

I care, I worry, and most of all, I want to help in every way possible.

As the oldest, I somehow feel the responsibility to be an example to them. Not only do I want to prevent them from making mistakes I once made but I also want them to know they can count on me, and that they can call me any time of day with any kind of problem. I'll pick up my phone at 3 am for them, even if it's to answer the simplest of questions like 'What does it feel like to be kissed?' or 'How do you shave your legs?'.

I've already had to answer both questions to Elizabeth and Grace, who are three years younger than me, and I'm waiting for the moment Elliot, my 15-year-old brother, is going to tell me about his first date.

The front door slides open, revealing a smiling Colin who isn't given the time to greet us before his sister intercepts with her freshly gathered info.

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