Red ✔

Maybe Love is Worth it

I yawn tiredly as Alex and I are munching our breakfast to ourselves. Both of us do not say much at the table, which feels very boring for me. Yeah, Alex is annoying when he talks about his art and stuff, but I enjoy having a past time when eating my food. "Alex, did you ask your crush yet?"

"No. Did you?" he asks.

"No."

The sun shines through the blinds. One of them blocks the glare from coming to my eyes.

"Can you at least tell me what her name is?" I plead, giving an extra doggy face.

"Nope."

"Please with a cherry on top?" I say, kneeling on the floor.

"No. End of discussion," he scolds. Stubborn.

He is awfully in a bad mood today. Usually he is joyful and nice. He looks sloppy. This posture is slouched on the chair. His anger is taking it all on me for small things. The table etiquette he is presenting is horriffically gross with the spoon touching his nose and the milk dripping from his mouth.

"Um, are you okay?" I question, anxious of his sanity.

"What do you mean?" he growls.

"For one, your spoon is on your nose." I lower the spoon from his face. "And second, I think a gooey substance came onto your cereal."

He moans, irritable, and gets up. I push him back down. "Can you let it go?" he grumbles, his eyes sagging down until you cannot see his eyes anymore.

I will not let this go. He is my brother and whatever is bothering has to be serious. I know him well enough that the signs are lots of moaning and laziness. He is usually energetic and hyper, well, more. The person I am seeing now is grumpy Joe.

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong." He looks up at the ceiling, not meeting my gaze.

"Tell. Now."

He squints at me competitively. I do the same. We battle for about three minutes.

He gives in. "Fine! Yesterday Patrica made fun of my art," he blurts. "I was drawing a sketch of forest with some wild animals. Then she came up to me and said, 'What are you drawing?' I said, 'A forest.' She said it was nice but it was a bit slanted on the left side." He looks crushed.

Artists. So dramatic.

I ruffle his hair. "She only said it was slanted."

"But it was a huge mistake and I cannot do it again."

"One mistake that is all. I think you are overacting," I say.

He moans.

"There was a smart, handsome, young man I once knew, who did not care what others thought of him. He drew everything his way. He made everything his way. He thought everything his way. I would never let anyone get in his way because that young man was you, my favourite little brother in whole wide world," I preach.

He bangs his fist on the table, appearing to be less sloppy-looking. "You are right. I should not let some girl get in the way of my creations. Thanks, sis."

My speech brightens me up. I should not let being dateless bring me down. There are millions of people in the world who do not get dates for the dance. So I am not the only one.

***

"Hello, today is Friday, February 11th, 2011. Time for our announcements. Can the late students come to the office at lunch recess? Thank you," a lady says in the P.A. system. "The choir meets after school at three. Please do not forget your music sheets. Also, the gym is closed for the Valentine's Dance next Monday, and speaking of the dance..."