Chapter 1 - Jessie
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Dear Journal:
Tonight I went to my sister's soccer game. That isn't unusual. What is unusual is that I actually paid attention.
My folks have been dragging me to sissy's soccer games for years. We both played in Peewee leagues, but after our respective growth spurts, she got better, and I got worse. Michelle was suddenly zooming past defenders with her long legs, while I was lurching around in front of the net, hoping for a decent postgame snack.
I quit soon after, but sis continued with travel ball. That was the worst. Every weekend, we'd load into the minivan and travel around for tournaments. Nowhere good, of course. They were never held in Miami or Las Vegas or LA; they were always in podunky regional suburbs just far enough away to ruin the whole weekend. It was so boring. At least sissy had her games and her teammates to have fun with during downtime. All I had was my iPad, my parents, and a steady supply of snacks from the snack shack.
And I always had to go, no matter how much I whined and cried. "You need to support your sister," Mom would scold me. Why? It made no difference to her whether I was there or not. In fact, she acted like I was an imposition whenever I was around. The truth was, I was too young to be left alone, and my folks didn't want to pay for a sitter.
At least her high school games were nearby. Tonight was a home game, and I was ready to go before my parents and didn't complain once.
Let's just say, I scored more points off the field than Michelle did on it.
"She looks sluggish tonight," Dad said, near the end of the first half.
That she did. Before tonight, I rarely watched more than a few seconds at a time. During her travel ball days, I'd glance up whenever the crowd went wild and, most times, it was because of something Michelle did. She'd be smiling and high-fiving, and my parents would be cheering and giving thumbs-up. I'd just sigh and return to my iPad.
But not tonight. Tonight I was riveted by the action. Or, more specifically, my sister's inaction. Whenever she got the ball, a hush fell over the crowd, anticipating something special. But then a defender would catch her, or she'd run into traffic, and the ball would go back the other way amidst a collective groan.
"They've got a tough defense," Dad said after her 4th or 5th turnover. I had no idea if that was true or not, but it seemed like an excuse.
The score was still 0-0 until about a minute left. That's when sissy got the ball along the sideline and, just as a defender was about to catch her, she passed it to the middle of the field, where one of her teammates headed it into the open net. The crowd went wild, especially my parents.
I suddenly wished I'd brought my iPad.
Fortunately, the game was over a few seconds later. Michelle and her teammates were ebullient, though sis looked more sweat-soaked and disheveled than usual. She was still out of breath by the time she made her way over to see us in the stands.
"Nice pass, sis," I said.
Everyone looked at me as if I had three heads. I could've yelled, "FLEEBER GEISTER HEVERWETHER!" and gotten less of a reaction.
"Thanks," sis huffed. She quickly recovered from the shock of my compliment and turned to dad, "Can I have some money? I want to go for postgame pizza with the girls."
Dad pulled out his wallet and fished out $20. Because of course he did. He always caves to his precious little angel. Truthfully, it didn't bother me much tonight. In fact, I might have chipped in some of my own allowance had he refused.
"Don't be out too late."
Sis smiled, waved, and then linked arms with some teammates and headed for the parking lot. I couldn't help but notice that her backside was a little bigger than the other girls' in the daisy chain.
Eat up, sis.
--Jessie
LINK TO THE FULL STORY:
https://www.deviantart.com/maverickthewriter/a rt/Jessie-s-Journal-WG-Revenge-All-Entries-1328156 364
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