The F-Word

II: F-Anatic

Chapter II: F-Anatic

   Wham!

   "Woah!" Instinctively, I immediately yanked hard on the brakes. I narrowly avoided a direct collision among two mountain bikes. Planting both feet firmly on the ground, my bike skidded to a halt.

   Eli looked flustered. "Sorry, Sis." He turned to glare at the pebble that was lying innocently by the pavement. That small object had just made his daily routine of cycling suddenly turn into a real life-version game of Hill Climb Racing.

   "What the heck?" I tried to contain myself from yelling too loudly but it was still loud. "Why the hell were you going that fast for? You trying to get yourself killed or something?!"

   "Look, I already said I'm sorry!" Eli snapped angrily. "Just get over it already!"

   Momentarily stunned, I stared at him for a few seconds before letting out a small sigh. This wasn't like Eli. He's the careful one. Usually, it was me who ends up nearly falling on my face, not the other way round. That was too close. In fact, it was only because of the front tyre of Eli's bicycle hitting the kerb that Eli didn't go flying.

   "Look," I said soothingly. "Is it about what Felicia said? You know how she is sometimes, just ignore her."

   "It's not that," Eli protested meekly.

   "Then what is it?" I pressed on further.

   "I don't like having it... It makes me feel so freaking useless," Eli mumbled miserably. "I mean, I can't even ride the school bus without puking my guts out."

   There is one thing you should probably know about Eli — whenever he is worried or annoyed, he always pulls this pouty face. Add that up with his blond hair and large eyes and you got yourself a flawless puppy dog-eyes expression. Ever since Eli was born, that face never failed to make my heart melt.

   And it was happening right now.

   Jesus, I swear Eli will never have arguments with his girlfriend when he gets one. Or boyfriend. Not gonna jugde. All he has to do is give him/her that very look and he/she will simply be putty in his hands.

   Huh. Now that I think about it, maybe that's why I'm always the one who steals from the cookie jar, not him.

   I gave Eli a cheerful smile. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get over it when you grow up."

   "What if I don't?"

   "Then I guess we'll just have to wait for some crazy mad scientist will invent some sort of anti-motion sickness pill or something. Either way, you can definitely ride on every single bus you come across in the future. Okay?"

   Eli gave a noncommital shrug and continued looking at the ground but I could tell that he was now betting his entire future on that tiny shard of hope. "Okay," he finally said after a while. "But..."

   "But what?"

   "I–I'm not really that into riding buses, you know."

   I grinned and ruffled his hair playfully. One more thung about the Hendersons — we don't really care much about road safety. Sure, we do buckle our seat belts and all, but we never wore helmets or anything of that sort when we go cycling or rollerskating. We'll just be like, 'Fuck this shit, I ain't wearing that,' and happily be on our way.

   Eli gave a small lopsided smile. I'm not going to lie here, this boy was definitely going to be a heartbreaker in the future. I could already see it. "Stop that, Sis. You're messing up me hair, Eli complained as he pushed me away and ran his fingers through his short cropped hair in a half-hearted attempt to fix it.