The Nobody Chronicles: Chapter One (part two)

             Now, let me explain something very important, nobody EVER texts me first. Sure, I talk to people via text when I’m bored in class or something and I text my mom constantly asking her to just pick me up already, but I always have to start those conversations. I’m like one of those optical illusions, ya know, you don’t see me unless I get pointed out. Well, I hear my phone buzz and suddenly my heart starts racing and my mind starts whirring and I couldn’t tell you which way is up. I mean, this meant someone wanted to talk to me.

            After a brief feeling of sadness at how depressing my life must be if the vibrating of a text was enough to get me all excited, I rushed over to grab the phone. No sooner had I touched it, however, that I drew back. See, the thing is, I didn’t wanna seem to eager to get to the phone. Rather, I needed to seem like I was all busy doing something ridiculously cool and important, and then happen to check my phone and politely respond to whoever was on the other end. Of course, after having this little internal dialogue with myself, I realized that my human contact was a text message, meaning there was no actual other person on the other end to know if I reached for the phone eagerly or not. As this exchange had cost me about a minute or so anyway, however, it became moot point, and with a sigh at my own patheticness, I opened the phone.

            You know when you are waiting for a birthday or Hannukah present, and you’ve asked you’re parents for just one really awesome thing that you want and then the day comes, and the box they hand you is the right size, the right weight, the right everything, but then you open it up and its some ugly ass sweater they found on sale at a Wal-Mart. Yeah, that was the feeling I had when I finally opened my phone.

            Now, I obviously should have known better than to expect anything much, I mean, unlike the movies, real life does not consist of mysterious hot secret admirers or stalkers, but what can I say, I’m a dreamer.

            So, naturally the message was not some strange boy sweeping me off my feet and making all my dreams comes true, but rather my 14-year-old sister Noa, asking me if we could pick up her newest boyfriend on our way to school. My heart constricted a little and my breath caught up in my throat. I couldn’t help myself, it was one of those texts that puts you in an awful mood right off the bat, and then of course you get mad at yourself for letting it bother you so much, which ultimately only succeeds in making you feel more awful. Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister to death and everything, but I’ve always felt like she’s the older one, experiencing life, and I’m the little girl watching her life like some CW special and wishing someday I could be like her.

            It’s all my parents fault though, if you ask me. I mean, it seems to me like by take two they sorta had this parenting thing down and didn’t screw her up quite as badly. Personally, I attribute it to the name, like seriously, Noa, is like some epic dude in the Bible who saves all the animals from a flood and is the only righteous guy in the whole world. Miriam, on the other hand, is the dowdy single sister of Moses, who follows her two brothers around through the freaking desert dancing like some crackpot with her timbrel or something like that. 

            Moving on though, I of course told Noa we could pick up her boyfriend, since it wasn’t worth arguing with her, and then proceeded to change my outfit, almost like the dismay of the failed text message had left something icky and depressing on the original one. Once changed, and starting to feel a tad bit better about myself, I headed into the kitchen for breakfast.