I was sitting on the porch in the cool Fall sun, typing a paper. Not a school paper, I haven’t written one of those in years. It was paper for one of the state wide newspapers. More or less, it was information on my brothers life. So, I couldn’t state my options of the man or it would be in the paper. And that would be horrible! Who would want to ruin the poor, little boxer from Mississippi’s life?
His little sister would.
She never gets anything. I never get anything. It’s all about Jake. If Jake wants it, it’s his. If I need something, I’m forced to wait. To me, it’s unfair. To the rest of my small world, it’s ok. It’s more than ok, I’m only a girl.
He’s a boy.
I frowned at the paragraph I had just typed. It was about myself. The paper had wanted a paragraph about all of his family, so I gave them what they wanted. But, had I pleased my Father and Jake? I didn’t think I would, but I left it there. The world should know who Hannah Green is. She is not just Jake Green’s sister and Austin Green’s daughter, she is Hannah Green. Her own person.
I’m my own person.
I had rules I had to follow, believe or not. I had to walk like a super model. Look like a super model. I could never cuss, at least when I had on a skirt or gown. I had to look sexy, but never bitchy. And at Boxing Matches, I was the proud little sister, who’s goal in life was for my older brother to go to the Olympic games. Not to be known for her last name.
I saved the file, then shut my laptop. A boy with Ash blonde hair was walking up the long driveway. He looked like my brother, but it was easy to see it wasn’t.
Jake walked with a stride, something that was very hard to mimic. This boy, walked like he was a severant. Very easy going. He looked up and met my eyes. His eyes where a soft shade of blue, like frozen water. He gave a tiny grin.
I stood up and smoothed the bottom of my skirt. It was yellow Gucci skirt, costing more that I would like to say. Father said girls liked clothes. Good clothes. So I liked good clothes.
“Hello.” I said, getting off of the porch.
“Hi, are you Hannah?” He asked , coming closer to me, about a yard away.
“Hannah, is your brother home?” He asked. I frowned.
“Who do you work for?” I asked, wishing he said nobody.
“Nobody. I’m a old friend.” He said.
“Than I should know who you are. Which I don’t.” Just then, the front porch door opened, and Jake stepped out.
“Liam! Hey, how ya doing? Hannah, go get us some beer.” I rolled my eyes.
“You aren’t going to make- oh whatever.” I said and walked into the house.
No way was he going to make his weight.