Coping With The Family

Chapter 12: Super Selah (Slight 🍋)

Y/N: "Why are we here again?"

Selah: "It's a cafe, dummy. Why else would we be here?"

You groan. "I dunno, just figured that after getting a black fucking eye, you'd take me to get salted caramel ice cream and a new game for my computer."

Selah laughs. "Well, spoiler alert, I'm not mom." She flicks your forehead, and you roll your eyes, your sunglasses still protecting the people of the outdoors from seeing your fucked up eye.

Selah grabs your arm, pulling you toward the front of the line with a determination that suggests she might arm-wrestle the barista if your order isn't perfect. "One salted caramel latte and a blueberry scone, please. Make it snappy; my brother's had a rough day."

You can't help but smirk at her bossiness, a trait she's perfected over the years, probably from dealing with you. The barista, a guy with more piercings than you can count, nods and gets to work on the order. You find a table by the window, the spot Selah loves because she can people-watch and make up stories about them.

She slides the latte and scone across to you. "Eat. You'll feel better."

You take a sip of the latte, and the sweet and salty flavor is weirdly comforting. "Thanks, Selah."

She leans back, studying you with those all-knowing sister eyes. "So, wanna talk about it?"

You shrug, not wanting to dive into the mess of your love life, but with Selah, you never really have a choice. "She cheated on me. It's as simple as that. And you know, he tried to rub it in."

Selah's face hardens, protective anger flashing in her eyes. "She's a moron, and he's a bigger one. You deserve better, Y/N."

You nod, knowing she's right but still feeling like you've been sucker-punched. "I know. Just sucks, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." She reaches over and squeezes your hand. You've got me. Always."

The moment feels heavy, filled with unspoken promises and the kind of sibling love that can weather any storm. You squeeze back, grateful for her.

"Remember when we were kids?" Selah suddenly breaks the silence, a mischievous glint in her eye. You used to follow me around everywhere. You annoyed the hell out of me."

You laugh, the sound bitter-sweet. "Yeah, and you used to tell me horror stories to scare me off. Never worked."

She grins, leaning in. "That's because you were a weird kid. Loved those stories more than you should."

The conversation shifts, flowing from memories of childhood pranks to the more embarrassing moments of your teenage years. Selah reminds you of when you tried to impress a girl by skateboarding down the steepest hill in your neighborhood, only to end up in a bush covered in scratches.

"And let's not forget your emo phase," she adds, almost choking on her coffee from laughter.

You groan, hiding your face behind your hands. "I was expressing myself."

"By looking like a raccoon with an attitude problem? Sure."

Despite the teasing, the laughter and shared memories work their magic, lifting the weight off your chest. The betrayal and pain fade into the background for a moment, replaced by the warmth of your sister's unwavering support.

"Thanks, Selah," you say, a genuine smile breaking through. "For everything."

She nudges you, a soft smile on her lips. "Always, Y/N. Always."

Selah's smile turns contemplative as she watches the people outside the cafe window, a habit you've come to recognize as her gearing up for a deeper conversation. "You know, being the oldest wasn't always easy," she starts, her gaze still fixed on the bustling street.