IT'S COMPLICATED -- MARCUS BAKER

Literally Overwhelmed, But Love You Too - 11

(A/N): If you don't want kids, just bear with me for this chapter cuz its for the sake of the book. I get the 'I don't want them,' opinion, but it's solely for the writing. Notice how I put this at the top, so after you read this you're wondering what the hell I'm taking about haha you'll see. It's not bad. Anyway, I'll let you read.

My sister has always been a follower; I've never seen her make a single decision on her own. One of her "friends" in our old town told her she'd look better with different clothes. So, she set out and bought a whole new wardrobe that looked nothing like her. Or when they suggested she paint her nails because they looked 'awful' without any polish. She doesn't even like nail polish, but she came to school the next day with periwinkle fingers. So when she overheard Samantha suggest to one of her friends that Ginny might be prettier if her hair was straightened, guess what she did?

"Your hair! It's straight."

She shrugged with a slight grin, as if she was basking in the attention. "I wanted a change. New, older me." I scoffed and turned away. New? News flash, village idiot: you're still black. "But I love your natural hair." She rolled her eyes and made a sweet face, "Aww. Then you wear it." I but in, "Straightening your hair doesn't make you a new person...." I added, in a sing-song voice. Her smile seemed to falter, but it appeared again in a second. I hated her blatant attempts to look more like her friends. It was hard enough being black in a predominately white town. But when  you see another black person trying so hard not to fit their stereotype that they lose their own identity, it's really frustrating. I pushed my emotions down to help my twin celebrate her birthday. I truly didn't feel like it, but I faked a smile and sang, as mom pulled out some cake. ""Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you..."

"It's 7:00 a.m. I don't want cake." I put my finger over my mouth and kept singing. "Happy birthday dear Ginny..." She cut us off again, "Must you sing the whole song?"

"Yeah," mom said. I put my middle finger up. "Shut up, Ginny I don't wanna be singing all day." She playfully rolled her eyes and laughed. "Happy birthday to you," we finally finished. Mom thrust a package into Ginny's hands. "This came from Zion's parents." Virginia looked a little mad because mom opened it and she commented as much. "They sent 500." Damnnn.

"Happy birthday, Ginny!" Austin looked very cheerful for early in the morning. We rehearsed this last night, down to the smile and perfectly brushed hair. He sat there patiently as I combed it for about 45 minutes this morning and then we practiced smiles in the mirror. "Aww! Thanks, Austin!" He smiled again and looked to see, "Cake! Cake!" Mom shooed him away and forced him to go brush his teeth. Then, she started a whole monologue about Virginia growing up. "Sixteen. An adult. A little woman. My little woman. Louisa May Alcott's all atingle. You really are growing up." Ginny thought this meant she could get an attitude again. "That mean you'll treat me like a grown-up? Trust me with important factors of your life, like, I don't know, off the cuff, the fact that you have a sister and your real name is Mary."

"Ugh, I've already been forced to be all cheery, stop being annoying, Ginny. And, btw, you get treated like an adult when you grow up mentally." Mom waved her finger to the ceiling, "Preach!" Dad got Ginny a piano. Does she even know how to play? He always buys these big, grand gifts, as if he wants us to forget that he's never with us. But that only works on Ginny and Austin. Yes, my mom brags about my father's relationship with me. But is it actually that great? No. I'm not gonna romanticize the relationship I have with someone that's only there when he feels like it. 

My twin gave me a hug and last wave before she left the house to go make birthday plans with her friends. I'd come to the sleepover mom was gonna throw, but I didn't want to go to whatever dumb party they were throwing. I hadn't seen Abby in a while, so I didn't mind hanging out with them for a bit, though. Most likely, they'd end up in jail for underage drinking and I'd be sitting at home with an ice cream sundae and Marcus. I ran up the stairs to get dressed for school.