Little Women and Me - By Lauren Baratz-Logsted Page 0,2

And she’s really cute.”

I can’t believe this. What, is my life a sitcom with me the butt of all the jokes?

I contemplate the idea of my younger sister, Anne, with her pretty blond hair. I could see where a guy would like her, even an older guy.

But never mind that now, because …

I’ve wasted so many lunches eating salad while listening to Jackson moon over Charlotte … and now he’s going to switch his affections to Anne?

This cannot be happening to me.

When I get home, I go straight to my room.

I cannot believe how much my life stinks.

Immediately, I fish my iPhone out of my backpack and text Kendra. Kendra and I have been best friends for as long as I’ve been at Wycroft, but our schedules this year are so different, plus I’ve been wasting all those lunches eating but not eating with Jackson, that sometimes I barely even get to talk to her until after school.

Call me! Call Me!! CALL ME!!! I text madly. This is 2 big & involved & crisis-worthy 4 texting!

A minute later my phone rings and for a second I’m happier than I’ve been all day. There’s something to be said for friends you can rely on. Too bad the same thing can’t be said about sisters. Or at least not my sisters.

“Yo, dude, what’s the emergency?” Kendra says.

I ignore her “yo” and her “dude” and head straight for the emergency.

“Jackson is no longer interested in pursuing Charlotte,” I say.

“But that’s good news, right?” she says.

“Where’s the crisis?” “Where’s the crisis? I’ll tell you where the crisis is. He’s decided to switch his romantic allegiance to Anne.”

“Who is Anne?” she asks, echoing my question from earlier in the day and giving me a moment of nostalgia as I remember how simple my life was before I knew the awful answer.

I tell her who Anne is.

What do I expect when I tell her? I expect outrage. I expect sympathy. Certainly I feel plenty of both of those on my own behalf. But instead I get:

“HA!”

I’m in shock. “You’re laughing?” I don’t believe this!

“Come on,” Kendra says. “You’ve got to admit, it’s funny.”

“I don’t have to admit anything of the kind!”

“It’s like that old sitcom The Brady Bunch. Have you ever seen it? It’s like if Jan liked a boy who liked Marcia only to have him turn his attention to Cindy. You know, ‘the youngest one in curls’?” She breaks out laughing even harder.

“Stop this!” I say. “My life is not a sitcom!” It’s doubly harsh to hear her imply that it is since I’d had that thought myself earlier. “And Anne isn’t some cute little ‘youngest one in curls.’ She’s … she’s … she’s some hot little eighth-grade number—a vixen in Justice clothing!—and now somehow she’s gotten Jackson to fall for her!”

I’m fuming. Not at Kendra. She’s my best friend, meaning she can say anything she wants to me and no matter how outraged I might seem, it’s okay. Rather, I’m fuming at the unfairness of it all.

“Emily?”

“Hmm …?” I say vaguely, still fuming.

“Why do you resent Anne so much?”

I can not believe she is asking me this.

“Do you not remember the Incident of the Shawls?” I say.

“Oh no,” I hear her groan, although I’m fairly certain it’s a loving groan. “Not the Incident of the Shawls again!”

“Oh yes,” I say emphatically. “It’s the Incident of the Shawls again. When I was eight, Charlotte was nine, and Anne was seven, Mom went on that two-week trip to Spain with her women’s club. She brought back three shawls for us as souvenirs. You wouldn’t think a shawl would be a cool thing, but these shawls were amazing. They were pure silk and had all this really awesome fringe and each one was a different color. Charlotte got to pick first, which was okay, since she’s the oldest. Well, of course she chose the ivory-colored one, which was far and away the prettiest. But that was okay too because the second-prettiest was this orchid purple. With my auburn hair, I figured I could look very dramatic in it. And I was all ready to say that’s the one I wanted, but then my mother said—”

“That Anne should pick next,” Kendra said, “because she didn’t think it was fair for Anne to be last in everything, just because she’s the youngest.”

“Exactly right. So Anne picked the orchid one and I got stuck with—”

“The puke-green one.”

“Yes! Green in general is my favorite color and nearly every green in