Circus Tent

As Brooke plopped herself onto the couch, she balanced down to grab the New Yorker from the coffee table. She opened it up and flipped through “The Talk Of The Town” section not really reading anything at all. It had been one of those things she begged her mother to buy her. She felt that if she could have it with her at school, all the other kids would see how sophisticated she was. 

And then like a little quake, Brandi, Brooke’s sister, comes running down the stairs. “Hey, what do you think of my new dress?” “Uuuuuummmmm, it looks like a fucking circus tent,” Brooke said with barely a side glance at her sister. 

“Really? Damn….Okay, why do you have to be a fucking bitch all the time? Don’t hate on me because I have a date to the prom tonight and all you have is that magazine.”

Brooke pretended to concentrate more on the page she had been holding open as her sister yelled.

As Brandi started for the stairs, she added, “I don’t know, it seems like suicide is your only option….” 

Brooke calmly responded as if Brandi were still in the room, “Get fuckin bent, bitch.” 

She continued to flip through the pages to find the cartoons. At least she found those amusing compared to the rest of the magazine. 

She decided that she didn’t hate her sister exactly. It was a play for power more or less. After all, Brandi’s ego is like the size of Jabba the Hut at this point. And it wasn’t like ‘ol Jabba ever went on a diet.

Brooke jumped up to her feet and dropped the magazine back on the table. Walking out to the backyard, she headed toward her secret spot where she kept a pipe and lighter. She stuffed the bol with a tiny nug and toked away while she enjoyed the quiet cool air.  

Looking up to the stars, she chuckled to herself with her renewed lifted mood, “hehehehe, I said circus tent…..”.