“No Rachel, I am not going to sleep with your brother. And you should feel really fucking weird for asking! If I didn’t love you already, I’d totally be rethinking our friendship,” she said it playfully, but I could tell she was really shocked. I was too, to be honest. I’d never thought anything like this until just a few minutes before, and here I was trying to get my brother… laid.
“I am so sorry,” I said again, then dropped my hands to the side.
“No, don’t be,” Christine said, laughing again, “I am just… I didn’t know you were pimping out your brother.” I winced. God, she was going to make this painful. I think I deserved it.
“No, it’s just… he is so depressed since the Amber thing…” I said, trying to salvage this in some way.
“So you thought ‘hey, maybe my friend wants to fuck him’?” she said, and I winced again.
“Look, I know that was… a stupid thing to say. But I just worry about Ben. He is such a good guy and I worry that…”
“You’re right, Ben is a good guy. You shouldn’t worry about anything. He will be fine. He got his heart broken in high school. You don’t want him marrying his high school sweetheart, do you? That worked out real well for my parents, remember.”
“No, I know. I really do know. I just know that he thinks you’re pretty and you seem really… open to sexual experiences…”
“No one has ever called me a slut in a sweeter way Rach, I thank you for that.”
“And so I just figured…”
“We’ve known that Ben has had a crush on me since like the fourth grade. That doesn’t bother me. But I won’t sleep with him,” she said.
“Because he’s not attractive?” I asked, in a whispered voice. My heart started thrumming as I asked it. I was terrified about the answer would be. What if she confirmed my fears about Ben’s future?
“Because he is my friend’s brother, Rach! God,” Christine said and I felt a little bit better, “And, I mean listen, I am not going to lie and say I am not shallow. I am. Ben isn’t really my type. But I am sure I’ve been with less attractive guys. Once or twice. But no, I am not going to sleep with him.”
“Ok,” I said, “I am really sorry I asked.”
“Stop apologizing. I was just… surprised at first. I am over it now. You’re just… sort of weird. A good sister, I guess. But weird.”
“It is just… sometimes I worry that Ben will always have to settle. I wanted him once, and again, I am not asking anymore, but once I wanted him to be with someone he would think was like a… perfect 10” I explained. Christine shook her head.
“Why is that a sister’s business?” she asked, “No, I don’t want to know… Jesus… the Perfect 10s looking for a perfect ten.” I furrowed my brow.
“Perfect tens?” I asked, unsure what she was talking about. Christine smiled awkwardly.
“You guys, the Perfect 10s,” she said. I sort of shrugged. What the hell did that mean, “Oh come on you never heard anyone say that?”
“Say what?” I asked and I think it was clear from my tone that I was totally in the dark. Christine sighed.
“You and your brother, they called you guys the Perfect 10s.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked, once again wondering what sort of joke there was on my brother. And on me too, I guess.
“Your last name is Merten. Mer-Ten. Also, you are really hot. They say you’re a perfect 10. Get it?” Christine said.
“Okay, and Ben?” I asked.
“Mer-Ten, still,” Christine said, and she sort of looked away.
“Okay…” I said, I could sense she didn’t want to tell me, and I felt my heart rising into my throat.
“Come on, it isn’t even funny,” Christine said. That seemed to confirm my fears.
“You have to now,” I said. Christine breathed out sharply and looked at me. Her lips pursed.
“Fine,” she said finally, “You are a Perfect 10 because you are hot. Ben is a Perfect 10 because… the guys in the locker room said his dick looked like a roll of dimes.” Christine said, and then she looked away quickly.
“What?” I asked.
“They say he has a small dick. My ex, David, he said he saw it in the locker room too. Said it was small. What do you want from me? I shouldn’t have said anything. God, this is just not a sister thing,” Christine said.
For that moment, I completely agreed with Christine. I was just disgusted about knowing anything about my brother’s… penis. I didn’t know if it was big or small or crooked or whatever. I didn’t want to know. I realized just how creepy my initial request to Christine was in that moment. This was the kind of stuff I was talking about. I felt like maybe I’d been getting too invested in this. It was not normal sister behavior. This was not a sister’s concern. And anyway, Ben didn’t seem upset about any of this. Why was I talking about it? He would be mortified to know that I knew… anything about this. I felt my stomach turn. I needed to get myself together. In short, I was scared straight.
“Jesus,” I said, “Let’s not talk about this. I am done talking about this stuff.” I was completely mortified and embarrassed by my questions. By my thoughts. I had been caught up in my… sympathy for Ben and I had completely forgotten where the boundaries lines were. I saw them clearly now. And I got myself back on the right side.
“It’s fine, you’re right. Let’s just drop it,” Christine said. I quickly changed the subject and somehow managed to get us back on track to a rational conversation. Christine and I were tight, she didn’t hold any of my weirdness against me. By the time Christine took her laundry home, I felt like we were past it.
And through Christmas, I swear I didn’t think about it again. I just had a good time with my family. I baked with my mom, went shopping with my dad, and watched Home Alone five times with Ben. I did the normal family stuff and I didn’t think about my brother’s relationships or his… penis again.
But, even a week after my conversation, I began to find that little bits of thoughts and worries were working their way back into my brain, armed with new ammunition. It came on me when I was thinking about something else, when I was bored or off my guard.