Young and Old

“Because I DON’T KNOW! Lord, how hard is that to understand?” Denise slammed her bedroom door in her brother’s face. She just didn’t understand him sometimes. Yes, he was younger and yes, he was a boy, but how hard was it to just take the answer and go away?
There was a loud bang on Denise’s door.
“I want to know where Mom went!” Robbie yelled. He was more annoying than any 10 year old boy should be. Denise, at 14, was so above such dramatic displays. She took a deep breath and went to her door, jerking it open.
“Robbie, I told you FOUR TIMES. I. Don’t. Know. Why can’t you understand that? She didn’t TELL me where she was going. She just left a note and said she would be home for supper. Do you want to read the note again? Are you such a dummy that you don’t understand it?” Denise’s voice rose in volume and pitch with each word.
Robbie stood silently for a moment. Then he turned to leave.
“I was just.. you know, worried.” He said barely above a whisper.
Great, Denise though. Now I feel guilty. There should be a law against brothers. She closed her door slowly and went to lay across her bed. She had homework to do. She picked up her new copy of Teenager Magazine and flipped through the pages, pausing momentarily at each page of make-up tips. Mom wouldn’t let her wear make up. What a cheat. Her friends wore some. What was the deal?
There was a light knock on her door. Denise sighed loudly.
“What, Robbie?” The door opened and her brother stepped in.
“I wasn’t trying to make you mad, you know.” He told her in a low voice. Robbie was the kind of kid who demanded sympathy without even trying. He just had that look. He was small for his age and far too smart. He aced everything. Denise was smart but she had to work for her grades, where Robbie just knew stuff. She suspected one of them was adopted but she hadn’t decided which yet.

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