Pretzel Girl

"Gremlins"

"Her name is Addison." I found out after I stopped by the shop after work, even though she wanted to come see me before-hand, but I didn't mind. I gave her my reasoning as to why I was going to go visit her stand today too, but without giving away that I was actually specifically going to see her again.

"She seems really nervous around me, which is weird, because I'm usually the nervous one." My mom nods, slowly, like she's analyzing everything that I've said, even though I've only spoken two sentences to her since I walked through the door.

Actually, it's the first thing that blurted through my mouth, the moment I stepped into the house. Okay, more like burst...

I don't know why I'm so excited. Usually when I like a girl, I'm scared senseless and can't form words around her, much less keep up a conversation. That's probably the reason I've been single all of my 18 years of being alive. I hate being shy, but I guess I can't help it.

"And you aren't nervous around her?" She asks to confirm, but I shake my head, violently in complete denial.

"I'm terrified."

Her look of pure confusion urges me to continue, "I'm terrified, until she actually starts talking. The first time I saw her, she fell off of a chair and completely embarrassed herself in front of me, and I guess it's a sort of a comfort to me that I'm not the only awkward one."

Her eyebrow arches and her facial features rise into a smirk, while I ramble on and on. "What?" I ask, stopping to take a breath.

"You realize you haven't stopped smiling the entire time you've been home."

I laugh, "I've only been home for about 10 minutes."

"You've come home everyday this week, grumbling and complaining about that dreaded store you work at, except for yesterday and today, and now I know why." She rests her chin onto the palm of her hand while leaning her elbow on the armrest of the couch.

I'm about to reply with yet another cheeky response when "Hey! I'm home! What's for dinner?!" Erupts from the kitchen.

The big sis has arrived.

"Hey, baby, we're in here!" Mom shouts back, and in comes Esther.

She drops her bag on the living room carpet, contents of the bag spill out including her messy make-up case, which is basically a suitcase on it's own. If she didn't spend so much money on her make-up, she wouldn't have to bring her laundry to our house to do.

A small feeling of impatience pokes me in the chest as Esther replaces the spot my mom was sitting in, while the former inhabitant disappears into the hallway, carrying her suitcase to start her laundry.

Esther tips her head back to stare at the ceiling, even though she only does that for a second before closing her eyes. I notice with even all of that make-up, there are dark circles forming under her eyes. And all this time, I thought she was the one who had everything under control. College is probably taking a big toll on her, considering it's her first year. It's kind of nerve wrecking for me.