Another Way To Love (LGBT)

III

Hi lovelies,

It's finally Earth Week at school this upcoming Monday and to celebrate this wonderful occasion, the school has granted me permission to run a bake sale to raise money for a local cat shelter! So if you have a sweet tooth, a love for kitties, and a couple bucks to spare, stop on by! The stand's going to be set up right outside the school entrance. We're going to have cupcakes, cookies, brownies...

I set my phone down in favor of taking a peek in my wallet.

Just as expected: it was empty.

But I wasn't about to despair. I knew Cooper would probably lend me some money if I needed it, but I'd rather try to find another way first.

And that was how I found myself in front of my sister's bedroom. She was out of the house with her boyfriend of the week, which meant that I had the house to myself for now.

Monica's room was decorated in an almost stereotypical "bad girl" style. Posters of various rock bands were hung up on the walls (placed crookedly too, because I guessed it was cool to look like you didn't know how to hang shit), her bedding was a black-and-white checkered pattern and she had this creepy zombie plush sitting in front of her pillows. There was also a vanity in the corner overflowing with makeup that Monica was too lazy to put away.

When I accidentally stepped on a dirty plate she had left on the floor (thanks for that, Mon), I cringed a little and took a moment to step over anything else blocking my path as I made my way to her black piggy bank sitting on her dresser.

Okay, I know stealing from my own sister might seem like a low blow, but she is kicking me out of the house for the evening. This was merely compensation.

I snagged twenty bucks from the gothic pig and started to make my way to the door, trying to be careful not to touch anything.

But before I could leave, I noticed a strip of pictures taped onto the wall.

They were photo booth pictures: ones Monica and I had taken together a couple of years ago, back before she had turned into such a witch.

I tried not to think too much about what it meant that Monica kept the photos. She wasn't one for sentimentality like I was, or at least, that was what I thought.

Believe it or not, Monica and I used to be close. Our parents are pretty much always away on business so we only had each other to keep ourselves entertained. I mean, babysitters and relatives tried, but they were never very good at connecting with us; especially me. I didn't like the idea that these other people, relatives or not, were acting as replacements for my mom and dad.

But Monica made it fun. She'd make up games for us to play, she'd let me stay up past my bedtime, she'd let me eat ice cream for dinner; Monica was a blast.

And then we got a little older, and I guess the times of made-up games and ice cream dinners weren't cool anymore. It was like one day, around the time when she turned fifteen, Monica went into her room and came out a completely different person.

A person far too cool to hang out with her little brother, I guess.

With a shake of my head, I left Monica's room. With a little luck, she'd never know I'd been in there.

Cooper's room was practically a second bedroom to me. I've lost count of how many times I've been here since I met him. The room was filled with junk (or, as Cooper called it, treasures). Random bowls sat around on various shelves filled with different items like rocks, buttons, rings, etc. There were also multiple jars with spices and framed dried bouquets on the wall.