The Ribbon Campaign

one || of boyfriends and orange juice [edited]

This story begins on a Sunday morning.

Our family isn't religious, so unlike a lot of the families in our town, we don't go to Church on Sundays. Instead, we choose to sleep in until the smell of my mother's pancakes flood the home, the aroma instantly tearing us out of our comas. Just like every Sunday, my brother and I fight for the shower and ultimately he wins since he takes three times less time than me, anyway. And just like every Sunday, when my brother, my little sister and I finally do get downstairs, we waste no time devouring everything that has been nicely placed on the table by my mother.

My brother stumbles through the rows of chair to get to his spot, trying his best not to spill the cup filled to the brim with orange juice in his hand. My little sister squeals when she sees it, trying to reach for it, but my brother swats her hand away.

"No," Ryan says. "I got it, I get to pour it first."

"You're going to drink the whole thing," I complain, taking my own seat beside him.

"Sucks for you," is all Ryan says before pouring literally half the thing into his cup. He then moves onto filling up Fiona's cup- knowing it'll piss me off to wait- who smiles at him, her tongue slightly sticking out of the gaps where her missing teeth are.

"Thank you, Wyan," she says happily, sipping on her juice. She can perfectly pronounce the 'R' sound, but still like to call Ryan 'Wyan', which is cute, I guess.

I hold out my cup impatiently. "Let's go, Wyan." Ryan rolls his eyes and pours me the rest.

My father is next to sit down as my mother takes each of our plates and puts our respective amount of pancakes on each. Two for me, one for Fiona and four for Ryan. Once she finally sits down, Fiona takes the pancake in her hands and eats it like a pizza. Considering she's been doing that for the past six years of her life, no one bothers questioning it.

"Daddy!" Fiona exclaims after her first bite from her pancake. My mother gives her a reprimanding look when she talks with her mouth full, so Fiona swallows and gives my mother a toothy smile before turning back to my father. "I have a spelling test tomorrow! You have to help me!"

"Of course I'll help you," my father tells her, causing Fiona's beam to widen even more. "What are some of your words?"

"Train," she lists. "Brain, main," she scrunches up her nose, thinking for a couple of moments before declaring, "I don't remember the rest."

"We'll work on it," my father promises. He turns to Ryan and I, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement like they usually do after talking to Fiona. "What about you two? Do you have any tests coming up?"

"I have a biology quiz Wednesday," Ryan says, cutting his pancake in tiny pieces like he always likes to do before soaking them into the honey on his plate.

"Do you understand everything?" my mother asks, taking the maple syrup from Fiona's little hands before she spills it everywhere.

"Not really," Ryan admits, organizing the small pancake pieces on his plate. "But I'm going to ask my teacher tomorrow if I can stay after school for extra help. Apparently she's really good with one-on-one help. Besides, Caiden offered to tutor me for a bit before the test. He's getting, like, a ninety seven in the course."

"Caiden's too smart," I grumble. He really is; the kid gets high nineties almost effortlessly. Speaking up, I say, "I have a lab due Friday, but otherwise this week is pretty easy for me."

"You need to do good," my mother chides, making me have to refrain from rolling my eyes. "You don't want to dip down to the seventies in science."

"I know," I sigh, not liking her nagging, finishing off my first pancake and gulping down the rest of my juice.