Stephen and Sharpies ~ Watty Awards 2012

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

    I take out Sharpie six, take a deep breath and think about that last question: will I keep reading? I think I will. The next question I have to answer first: am I big-headed or am I just a nerd hiding behind the football jerseys, basketball shoes, and wood bat? Before I take out the sixth story I ponder my choices. I can’t figure out which one I am, maybe I don’t deserve her. Why is it that it took a kidnapping, twenty-five Sharpies, and the girl of my dreams to disappear to just figure out that I am the biggest phony of all time? I guess quitting football and applying to Willamette University is really what I am meant to do; to return to my nerdy self.

    One huge breath and I flip to the sixth paper, I begin to read, and a smile creeps over my face.

-Alec

    I don’t know your sister personally, but there are a few stories that involve her. I guess we’ll start with my personal favorite.

    It was on one of those rare warm days and the sun was shining and everyone was wearing shorts and t-shirts. I was sitting down outside nibbling of a jelly sandwich. I didn’t even flinch when you sat down next to me, it was a natural thing. You had on a pair of white latex gloves. I looked at your face and jokingly scooted away a few inches.

    “Ha ha ha,” you said sarcastically.

    “Is that a new style you’re sporting?”

    You pulled off the latex gloves and I begun to laugh hysterically. Your nails were painted a bright sky blue color, same color as the Sharpie you’re holding. “Shut up, my sister managed to paint my nails while I was sleeping.”

    “Sorry, but,” I paused to laugh some more, “why didn’t you try to take it off.”

    “I did, it didn’t work.”

    I bit my lip to minimize my laughing. “Well you should tell her that I think that she did an amazing job, she should become a beautician.”

    “Yeah, she’d be amazing,” your voice was monotone and sarcastic, I could help, but laugh some more.

    The bell rang before I knew it, it always happened that way. I would be having a great time with you and then the bell would ring. So you said good-bye and took my trash with you. It always took me one more minute before I could get up and follow you inside the school building. Moment after moment, I would wait until you disappeared inside, holding my breath. Then I would say to my self, “Alec, I like you.” You could never hear me, but I recited it over and over. After you disappeared inside, I would get up and walk right in, a daily routine.

   

    I think back to that day when I came to school wearing latex gloves. I can remember how loudly I screamed at Taylor that morning and I tried so hard to get that nail polish off my fingers, but it hadn’t worked. I look down at my hands now and I can still imagine the color. I can remember everything about that day. Now I can’t shake the image of that day, instead to distract myself I look outside.

    There is a soft drizzle and the gray clouds are lit up by a hidden sunset. I look down at the cement sidewalk and the asphalt street. For a moment I feel like I can see her running, my delusions changes from one person to another. I can see a pair of shorts and a tank top on top of a sun deprived skin. I take a moment more to stare at the empty street, then I take my yearbook off my desk. I flip to the back page, it is a full page picture of the freshman class. I run my finger over everyone’s face and then I find her. I can see how she stands awkwardly next to me on one side and Carissa on the other. I don’t even remember standing next to her for that picture, but why would I?

    I begin to study the features that I could recite by heart suddenly. Her dark brown hair, with a soft shoulder flip. Her eyes are huge and a brilliant blue crystal color. She has pale skin and light freckles that light up in the sun. Her lips are red and I can just imagine the feel of those lips on mine. She has a small birthmark barely visible under her bangs, which are pushed behind her ear. She has a small, crooked, though beautiful smile. Why did it take me until now, almost the end of junior year to figure out how beautiful she was? I took too long to find that her beauty, personality, and everything about her is what I’ve always wanted. Before I begin the next Sharpie, I take the latest story with me and go back to Taylor’s room.

    “Taylor?” She looks up at me from her floor, the news murmurs on and on in a quiet whisper. “I want to show you something.”

    “What would you want to show me?” I can tell you she is still mad about earlier.

    “Here,” I hand her the paper with Stephen’s handwriting scrawled all over it. “You know I may act like a jerk, but can you blame me? I am your brother. Just read this and you’ll see that I still love you even though I am a pain.” I pause, “Taylor, you just have to understand this is hard for me, you’re my little sister and you shouldn’t know more than me, even though you do.”

    I watch Taylor’s face as she reads over the stories. I smile as her face turns from a grim smile into a soft playful smile. She was glad to know that people I love and who love me, know something small about her. She looks at me and smiles.

    “You know if you weren’t such a jerk to me I might actually hug you. Though you don’t deserve one.” She wears a smug smile.

    “How about I bring the box in here and let you read the stories with me? Can I have a hug then?”

    “No, I don’t want to read her letters, they are meant for you. I will give you a hug when she gets back, okay? That will be the moment you deserve it most. So what are the other stories about me?” Taylor’s curiosity never fails her.

    “I don’t know, I haven’t read them all. Though you did just say that these letters are for me and no one else. How about if she returns you can actually meet her? I think that sounds pretty fair.”

    “Okay. Now please go read, and pass the time.”

    I nod and retreat back to my room.

   

    The other story that always reminds me of your sister is a sweet, sentimental story. It was a day, maybe sophomore year (I know I am skipping around, but I always remember more when I write.) As I was saying it was sophomore year and I was sitting down outside. The sun was shining, a rare sighting and you came and sat down next to me. You smiled at me and I smiled back.

    “Do you have any siblings?” The question was  out of the blue, but I accepted the question with ease.

    “Yes, a younger sister. Do you have any other siblings besides your brother?” I was flat with you.

    “A younger sister,” you pulled out your wallet and showed me a picture of this cute little girl. She had blonde ringlets and huge eyes, like yours, and this great smile. I couldn’t believe that smile.

    “She’s so cute. Definitely your sister.”

    I couldn’t believe you showed me the picture. You showed me a different side of you that day. I was so used to our casual small talk, but we got personal for the first time ever. You showed me a picture of your sister and I talked about how much she looked like you. There was a definite change that day, I think I fell more in love with you that day. I do it everyday; probably even right this minute as you’re reading this. I hope this isn’t too much for you, I hope I don’t sound like a creeper. I do hope I sound endearing…if I am capable of that.

-Stephen

   

    I vaguely remember that day. Mostly just the bit about the picture in my walled. I had forgotten about having it in my wallet until Stephen asked me if I had any siblings. It had triggered something. There definitely was something that changed that day. She made me into the kind of person I should be and wanted to be. It may have been for just a few minutes, but it was a change. A big change.