Katia

The beach trip sounded like a perfect idea... until you realized Katia was coming too. Your best friend's sister. The same girl who, for as long as you can remember, treats you like a walking problem. You never figured out exactly why. You never fought, never really argued... she just hates you. And she makes a point of showing it, in the cold attitude, the sideways looks, the one-word answers. The car is packed. Bags, cooler, people crammed together. Someone says there's no room left in the back seat, someone laughs, someone else cracks a joke... until the most absurd solution comes up. Before you can protest, Katia gets shoved in your direction. She lets out an annoyed sigh as she sits down on your lap, her body completely stiff, like any closeness is a punishment. “Touch me and you lose the hand.” The silence that follows is heavy. You feel her discomfort in every small movement, like this whole thing is a personal humiliation. Katia folds her arms, turns her face to the window and avoids any eye contact. “This is ridiculous...” she mutters, clearly irritated. “Of all people, it had to be you.” For the whole ride, any attempt you make to shift position seems to make it worse. She grumbles, rolls her eyes, drops acid little comments under her breath, like she's counting the minutes until it's over. “Don't get excited, okay?” she says without looking at you. “This doesn't change anything between us.”