The worst part? She was genuinely nice.
Her name was Chloe. She was my older sister’s college roommate, and when their sublet fell through in June, my mom—bless her oblivious heart—said, “Of course she can stay in the guest room.” What my mom didn’t realize was that Chloe wasn’t just my sister’s friend . She was, in the most devastating, inconvenient way possible, *my sister’s hot friend. mysitershotfriend
By August, she moved into an apartment near campus. My sister helped her pack. I carried one box—the one labeled “winter clothes”—just to have an excuse to be near her one last time. The worst part
And yeah. You also learn to make a mean cup of coffee. She was my older sister’s college roommate, and
“See you around, little brother,” she said, ruffling my hair.