Three and One doesnt always make Four.

I am the youngest of four. I am the only girl. I am the odd one out in every way.

My oldest brother is Andrew. He is thirty now, eight years older than me. Andrew tells everyone he is twenty five, and gets away with it. He has fair hair, eyes as blue as the ocean and an award winning smile. Literally. He is a model and has won awards recently for an advertising campaign for toothpaste. Andrew and I get along as far as being brother and sister go, he usually tells me to "smile" and leaves it at that.

Next in our sibling line up is Henry. Henry is twenty eight, acts like he is fifty eight and looks like a grown version of the milk-bay kids. White blonde curls, small round spectacles but no cowboy hat. He is a doctor. A very boring doctor. He moved away, chasing after the love of his life - Marjorie. She didn't love him and married a Vicar. He came back but hasn't looked at another woman. Henry has no time for me at all.

Mark is my favourite. He is twenty four, two years older than me. Exactly, We share the same birthday. We think it is a sign that we are the two who have a special bond. Mark is a hot shot footballer, most people around here worship the ground he walks on. Oh yeah, he's famous, a record breaker. He's probably the only reason I have girl-friends.

"Amber," he always laughs at me , "why do you have to see the negative and not the positive."

I always tell him that maybe thats just the way I was meant to be.

All our life, from infancy and now adulthood the boys have taken the attention, such good looking boys all in one family. "How great they all look!" Comments always directed whenever I wasn't in the pictures.

"Amber," my father always tries to make it fair " you are our beautiful girl, you were the cherry on the sundae!"

Some cherry.

The End

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