Old Orchard

Carla

I was finally having fun with my sister for the first time this summer; besides watching that horrible Lifetime movie with her, Frasier has to ruin it by getting her attention. I had to admit that it was cute when he would come over and nudge his toe against her leg, letting her know that he wanted to play ball instead of sitting there or going for a walk, anything but sitting there and waiting for us. I still think he is mad at me since I did not let him sit in my lap from Illinois to New Jersey. My phone rings, and I am getting my hopes up, hoping that it is Logan, and of course, I look down and see Oliver again. Just my luck; maybe giving him my number was not a good idea, but he was better looking than Ben, and he could carry a pretty decent conversation. Could you almost call him interesting?

Oliver: Drinks at the Pier later?

Carla: Maybe...?

Oliver: I can bring someone for your sister.

Carla: I will ask when she gets back.

Well, he was holding his liquor better than I was the night before. I would not have remembered if he had a brother if he had told me.

Carla: Please come out with me tonight?! ☺

Annabelle: Did you even recover from last night?

Carla: Please, I will owe you one...

Annabelle: Maybe.

I am 90% sure that she will come out with me tonight, just like how she could not let me go into New York by myself that first night. She owes me for all those times I bailed her out of not getting grounded. Most of these times when I had to bail her out or help her out were her hanging out and doing stupid stuff with Craig. When we were 16, our parents had left us alone at the house for the weekend.

"Do you think this is a good idea?" I asked my mom, who was zipping up her suitcase for their weekend getaway, and I was picking at my nail polish, already nervous.

"Yes. You girls will be fine. I left money on the counter in the kitchen for pizza and Chinese delivery." I knew the pizza was to make me happy, and the Chinese was to make Annabelle happy.

"I hope so," I said, grabbing her makeup bag and carrying it down to the entryway. As I stepped onto the last step, the front door opened to the one and only Craig walking in. He quit using the doorbell throughout the previous few years and just walked in. "Right..." I said, glancing up at my mom, who now seemed to have a nervous look on her face.

"Mrs. Alec," Craig said, throwing on his best smile, "I heard you are going to Chicago for a weekend getaway," he finished, not noticing my mom's nervous giveaway of spinning her ring on her finger. And finally, I was not alone in worrying about leaving us for the weekend.

"Yes. Are you guys going out tonight?" My mom asks him while still twirling her ring on her finger.

"Nah, we thought about watching a movie in the theater room," he said while adding on a have fun at the end while he walked up the stairs to Annabelle's room.

Bringing her bags into the garage, my mom sighs and looks at me. "No parties whatsoever, even if she begs you. Even if he begs you," she says. I had never understood why my mom did not just tell him he could not come over, but I knew deep down my mother felt a tug at her heart. Craig's family was not poor, but his parents worked to cover everything they wanted. On multiple occasions, Craig called my parents his second set, and even back then, I thought how they had probably helped raise him more than his father. On that weekend, by some miracle, I controlled Annabelle and talked her into not having a party. I was a nervous wreck the whole weekend and could not wait for my parents to return. The worst thing that happened was that Craig fell asleep on the couch in the theater room while Annabelle fell asleep on the floor. The following day I walked in to find popcorn bowls discarded on the floors and a pop stain from a cherry coke that had fallen over. I cleared my throat as loud as I could. Craig heard it, and looking up; he knew I was mad.

"What time is it?" he asked while yawning and throwing a hand over his mouth.

"Eight A.M.," I say and finish with, "You should probably go home." Craig had gotten up and left without waking Annabelle; he came back at seven that night with Chinese takeout and the newest Nicholas Sparks movie. My dad would have been furious if he had found out they had slept in the same room. I had heard him talking to my mom, asking if it was okay that Craig was over as much as he was. My mom told him they would either hang out at our own house or his house. My dad got the point it was either in a house of supervision or at a house with little to none. This should have been another time when my sister saw Craig wanted to be more than just friends with her.