“It isn’t like that,” I said, my voice sounding choked, “You don’t get the things that you deserve.” I said and the words came out flat. I failed to capture the idea.
“I deserve to kiss my sister?” He responded.
“No… I mean yeah but not like that,” I said, and I realized I was just digging a deeper hole.
“Tell me, just point-blank Rachel, do you pity me because I am less popular than you were?”
“No!” I said, and it really wasn’t that. He wasn’t really all that much less popular.
“What, because I don’t have your grades and I am not great at sports?” He asked.
“No,” I said again.
“Is it because I am not as good looking as you?” He asked. I paused. Just for a second, but I did it.
“No,” I said, finally. But I could see in his eyes that he had sense it too. I had, unwittingly, confirmed that I pitied my brother. And that was true, I did. And that I pitied him because… he was ugly. He knew it.
“I knew it, I knew that was it. Ever since the whole ‘Lolipop’ thing…” Ben said, shaking his head.
“It’s not pity,” I said, trying to salvage it, because it didn’t feel like a bad thing, like pity, it felt like something else, “It’s like… I am sorry that… I am guilty about it. I just want to… make things fair.”
“By kissing me and weirding me out?” He asked.
“I just thought… you haven’t had the experiences with girls that you should. You deserve more. And Amber was mean and she was… ugly. So I would give you something better. Because you deserve that. And I thought it might make you feel better, about Amber and everything, if…”
“When did I ever say that anyone owed me anything? When did I say that I should have more experiences with girls or I should get better looking girls than Amber? I just want a girl who treats me better than Amber. And you have no right to just… what place do you have in making anything different happen? Who are you or anyone else to decide what I deserve? I mean, what were you planning on doing, Rach?”
“I…”
“No, I don’t want to know. I have never felt bad about who I am. Except when you, or someone else, makes me feel like I should feel bad about who I am. I never asked you to feel guilty about the way I look. I didn’t ask you to do anything for me. You know what I deserve Rach? I deserve not to feel like this,” And Ben stood up quickly and walked rapidly up the stairs. I heard his feet across the floor to his room. The door closed.
I sat in silence, looking blankly at the television for a long time. For a few minutes, after the wave of Ben’s hatred flooded over me, I was just in shock. The whole situation had just been so… bizarre. But that faded and then, what I honestly felt, was anger. I crossed my arms in front of me, I crossed my knees and bounced my legs and shook my head. It didn’t even matter what I did, I told myself, I didn’t deserve that. He overreacted. He didn’t appreciate what I was trying to do for him.
Of course, he’d never asked me to do anything for him. He’d never asked for any of this. And then the anger started to fade as well. I don’t really know what I was feeling after that. It wasn’t numb shock, I know that. I was feeling something but… It is like when you’re drunk and the hangover starts before you go to sleep, you’re head aches because you’re sick and it really hurts, but you can’t feel the hurt because you are still drunk. It was like that. I was feeling something, but I couldn’t tell what it was.
I didn’t even really think about what I was doing. I found myself rising up from the couch, and walking softly up the stairs. My mind was a confused fog as I made my way upstairs, and padded quietly through the hallway. I came to my brother’s door and stopped, even though if you’d asked me I’d have said I didn’t want to be within 100 yards of it. And then, I was opening up the door. Not knocking. Just barging in. Well, not barging, just slipping quietly inside. And my brother was laying on his bed, his arms behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles. He was looking at the ceiling, his eyes were glassy. He knew I was there, but didn’t react. He was used to me going places where I shouldn’t be, I guess.
And then the words came. Unbidden. Unconsidered. Not planned out. It wasn’t a scheme. It wasn’t layered with guilt or coated with pity. I had turned off that neurotic part of my brain. I had recognized, somehow, that I needed to be authentic in that moment.
“I am sorry,” I said, “And not just for tonight. I crossed a line, I know that. And I am sorry about that. But it is so much bigger than that.” Ben didn’t react. He just kept staring at the ceiling. That was fine, he had the right to do whatever he wanted to do. He didn’t have to accept my apology, I just had to say it. And mean it. And that meant coming clean. On everything.
“You’re right. I have pitied you. And it is because… I know that you aren’t as physically attractive as me. And I know that sounds vain, and I think I get hung up on that. I think it makes me sort of afraid to trust myself about this, and that just ties me up in bigger knots. But… let me be honest. I think it is an objective fact that I am… better looking than you.
“And I don’t like it, Ben. I mean, I like to look good. I love it. But I don’t understand why I get it and you don’t. I don’t like that it is different and there isn’t any reason for it. And when I realized that, the first time, I felt pity for you. And guilty. And those feelings never went away. And I know that that changed the way we are together. It did, you realized it to.
“But you have to understand something, I don’t condescend to you. I don’t… just treat you the way I treat you because I feel guilty about our looks or because I… feel sympathy for you. That’s how it started, I admit that. But… I mean ever since that… Lollipop incident, our relationship has been really better, hasn’t it?
“When I learned what other people said about you, it made me stop looking at you like you were my annoying little brother for once. I looked at you, for the first time ever, like another person in the world, just like anyone else. And it got me to change the way I thought at you. And I got to know you in a different way, to really know you. I learned that I cared about you not just because you were my brother and mom and dad said I had to. But because, I really love you. And because I really wanted what was best for you.
“And you can’t tell me, despite everything else, that our relationship isn’t better now than it was before. We are… friends now. I learned that I like you. You’re funny, and you’re warm, and you’re sweet, and you’re smart, and you treat people thoughtfully. And I learned that that was the real reason that I want what is best for you. That guilt and that… pity… those were ugly feelings. I can see that, I can understand how you feel about that. But you have to admit that that opened the door to something… else, something more than that.