The summer we turned thirteen (Re-releasing 2025)

Chapter two: How to forget

James

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My favorite picture of Harlee and me was the first thing I saw when I rose from my bed each morning. It was still stuck in the corner of my mirror where I'd positioned it on the same day we had taken the selfie together in her backyard. Harlee was making a wacky face in the picture while I was looking at her in confusion.

The snapshot was a perfect visual comparison of our obvious differences: Harlee's hyper and free spirit against my quiet, passive nature.

It was quite the adventure while it lasted.

I glared at the picture from across the room as I sat up in my bed Monday morning.

I hated that picture now. It only stood as a permanent reminder of something I would rather forget.

"I got to get around to taking that down," I muttered to myself, hiding back underneath my blankets. I closed my eyes, wondering how much time I had left to sleep before the monster came into my room.

My bedroom door busted open right then giving me my answer.

"Get up, James!" my obnoxious older sister yelled. "And I'm only going to ask once."

"Don't you ever knock?" I said angrily, still covering my entire body with blankets.

Maybe, if I stayed under them, I would disappear.

Or she would.

"No, I don't have the patience to knock," Lizzie said to me. "Get up now, or get dragged out of bed."

"You're not going to drag me out of bed, Elizabeth," I replied, calling her by her full name, knowing how much it bothered her.

"You say that every time, and then I surprise you. And this time, I've been given the liberty to drag you. Mom said, and I quote, 'Do whatever it takes to get him out of bed, even if you have to resort to a physical altercation.' End quote," she said.

I rolled my eyes, although she couldn't see me.
She was lying.

I think.

But my mom and Elizabeth did tend to team up on me concerning everything. My dad was hardly home, because of the number of business trips the company he worked for required him to go on.

So it was usually two against one.

And the majority always seemed to rule.

Sometimes, I could play the youngest of the family card and get my mom to side with me against Lizzie. But the possibility of Lizzie and I ever being on the same side about anything was one in a million.

And that one in a million still hadn't ever happened.

Lizzie seemed to become more annoying with age. Every year that she became older, she got on my nerves more and more. I couldn't wait until she was shipped off to college, so I wouldn't have to put up with her any longer.

Harlee and I had agreed on turning her room into a clubhouse just for the two of us when she moved out. We planned to charge her admission whenever she returned for a visit and wanted to enter her former room.

I laughed at the memory.

Too bad our friendship didn't last long enough to make it happen, I thought, my joy turning to bitterness.

Lizzie took my laugh as a challenge. I suppose she thought I was laughing at her because next thing I knew, I was being pulled from my bed onto the floor at the speed of light. With my sheets still wrapped around me, I landed on the floor with a thud.