Being John B's twin sister, (only younger by 17 minutes), your life was very interesting. You hung out with the pogues, but you never really felt that you fit with them. Of course, your brother being the leader, one wouldn't assume that you felt out of place among the group. Sure, you loved surfing, but partying, getting into trouble, and seeking out danger? Not your kind of vibe. Most of the time you made up lame excuses as to why you couldn't go out on the pogue, stomach ache, cleaning your room, staying behind to make lunch, etc. It wasn't that you didn't like the pogues, it's just that you felt more comfortable alone and in the comfort of the chateau.
You woke up to the stench of beer. You immediately knew that John B must have had or gone to a party the night before, so you shrugged it off. Your room was small, but it was the best room in the house in your opinion. String lights strung around the walls, your small bed pushed in a corner. A vanity and chair on one side of the room, a tall bookcase on the other. Pictures of you and your brother and your friends pinned on the wall next to your closet. Some plants on the windowsill. It wasn't much, but it was absolutely perfect to you.
You made your bed, pulling the faded blue comforter back under the pillows. You pulled off your-well, John B's, technically-shirt and the shorts you wore to bed and folded them, placing them on your bed. You walked to your closet, grabbing out a pair of faded mom jeans, an oversized t shirt, that probably belonged to John B (sometimes they just show up in your closet, but you don't complain, because you like them so much more than your own), and your white converse. Once you had finished getting dressed, you sat at your vanity and brushed through your hair, deciding to leave it in a half up half down style. You rubbed some moisturizer on your face, and called it good. You walked outside of your room to be met with a huge mess, courtesy of John B and his wild friends. You sighed and looked at the clock, seeing that it would be at least an hour until someone else woke up, so you did what anyone would do.
You started cleaning.
You started off by cleaning off the table, grabbing a trash bag and scooping all the empty cans and other trash into it. Once you finished the table, you grabbed all the trash that was littered all over the floor. Once all the trash was cleaned up, you took the bag outside and set it next to the car, hoping John B would get the memo and take it to recycling. You walked back inside, continuing your work. You wiped down the table, cleaning it of the sticky film it had developed. you then swept the floor, and sprayed down the furniture with lysol. You wiped down the kitchen counters, and the refrigerator as well, not wanting to take any chances. You lit a candle, hoping it would help with the reek of alcohol the small house was sporting. The candle's mango and peach scent soon filled the house, making you take deep breaths instead of shallower ones.
You figured you could start making breakfast, since John B and whoever else was at your house would most likely be up soon. You cracked a few eggs and put them on the stove. You then cut strawberries up, got out yogurt, and filled up four glasses of water, assuming the usual suspects had stayed the night here. You set the glasses down at the wooden table as well as plates and forks. You finished up the scrambled eggs, pouring the contents into a large bowl with a wooden spoon and placing that on the table alongside the yogurt and strawberries. You felt like you were forgetting something, and then remembered how they would most likely feel when they woke up. You set out aspirin with the breakfast, knowing they would thank you later. You were finishing up cleaning the dishes that you had used to make breakfast when you felt someone hug you from behind.
"You are the best sister ever," John B mumbled against your shirt, as he had his face pressed into your back.
You smiled. Most people would dislike helping their siblings and taking care of them and their friends as if you were their mom, but you kinda liked it. Being a caregiver was something that just came naturally to you, and you were thankful for it, because if you weren't a caregiver the whole house would've collapsed a LONG time ago.
