“You certainly have some lofty academic goals this year, Bea,” Evan said pulling into a vacant spot.
“Yes I do,” Beatrice replied. “But let me tell you something, Evan. I’ll achieve every one of them.”
Evan nodded and reached over to unbuckle her seatbelt. “This gets stuck a lot,” he explained when Beatrice tried to shove his hand aside to unbuckle herself. “And I know you’ll achieve them. You’re going to be our first female president.”
Beatrice’s eyes lit up, and she grinned like a little fiend. “Now there’s something to consider,” she said.
Clara had not spoken the entire car trip, and YoTreats was twenty minutes from her house. She sat miserably in the backseat wondering why she even agreed to go. She was angry at being humiliated by her sister and teased by a boy who knew nothing about her. She felt the unspoken, unwanted transfer of power, the giving over of her control to him, and she hated it. She was at his mercy emotionally, and she wanted to cry and scream because of it. He held her with a look, trapped her with his smile, pinned her with the low rumble of his voice. She didn’t like feeling her power slip away. Perhaps she never had it in the first place, she thought.
“Clara?” Evan asked. He had opened the car door for her and was waiting for her to exit.
“Sorry,” she replied tersely and scrambled out. He caught her arm and pulled her close. He looked over at Beatrice who had already walked into the shop.
“Don’t be mad,” he said softly.
“What makes you think I’m mad?” Clara asked. She tried to sound aloof, but Evan knew better.
“You didn’t say a word on the drive over here. You’re mad at your sister for being so direct, and you’re mad at me for engaging her.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Clara said, jerking her arm out of his grasp.
“Oh, get real,” Evan replied. “I told you I liked you. You said it was fine that I said that, but clearly it’s not.” He waited for her to answer.
“I . . . I’m confused. You shouldn’t have said it. Not in front of Beatrice,” she said. She was flustered, smoothing the front of her shirt for something to do.
“Why? Is she not supposed to know?” Evan asked.
“It’s the way you did it!” Clara blurted. “It was humiliating.”
Evan sighed. He watched as Clara nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. He wanted to do it for her. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I was just teasing you, Clara.”
“I don’t like to be teased,” she replied hotly. She turned her face away. She imagined she sounded like a bratty child.
“I’m sorry,” Evan said. “I really am.”
Clara said nothing. She wouldn’t tell Evan what she really felt. She felt left out, like a child who wasn’t invited to play with the group at recess. She envied the rapport that developed so naturally and quickly between Evan and Beatrice. She wished she could be clever around him, but she was never the sister who had the words. Beatrice always had the words, and Clara felt like the stuttering, foolish older sister whom Beatrice had to spoon feed in private.
She felt caged in her social awkwardness. She searched wildly about for the key to her escape, but there wasn’t one. All she could do was look at Beatrice from behind the bars, watch the wise and clever girl do and say all the things she would never be able to but wished she could.
“Clara?” she heard Evan ask from far away. She snapped back to the present, looked at Evan, and tried for a genuine smile.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “Are you coming?” and she started walking towards the shop door.
“Clara,” Beatrice whispered. She looked behind her quickly, but Evan was still at the yogurt machines deciding on a flavor. She turned back to her sister. “Clara, I just know I will die if I can’t have a little bit of everything.” She looked at her sister imploringly.
“Bea,” Clara whispered back. “You cannot fit every topping on your yogurt.”
“But I have to try,” Beatrice insisted. Her nose was all but pressed against the glass separator, her eyes taking in all of the colors and textures of the scrumptious toppings. Suddenly Gummie Bears and Oreo cookie crumbles simply weren’t enough.
“Bea, we discussed this,” Clara said. “I have ten dollars and—”
She quickly closed her mouth as Evan approached.
“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” he asked Beatrice. He noted the look of desperation on her face.
Beatrice nodded looking up at Clara. Clara narrowed her eyes.
“I can’t ever decide on just one or two toppings, so I try to pile on as many as I possibly can,” Evan continued. “Wanna see who can pile on the most?”
Clara tried to interject. “I don’t think that’s—”
“Clara told me not to be greedy,” Beatrice said sulkily. “And she’s right. I shouldn’t be so greedy. It’s the way God made me, but still . . .” Her voice trailed off to a pathetic whisper. Clara rolled her eyes.
“Well, fortunately for you, YoTreats is the one place where you can be as greedy and indulgent as you want,” Evan said. He looked at Clara and smiled.
“Fine,” she said defeated. She had no idea if she could afford what Beatrice was about to pile in her yogurt cup, but she would worry about that at the register.
Beatrice heaped on toppings: Gummie Bears and Oreo cookies, Snickers pieces, peanuts, M&Ms, fresh strawberries, and caramel and chocolate glaze. She wanted more but decided to restrain herself. She already knew she had it coming when the girls got home. She walked slowly to an available table, careful that no strawberries slid off her mountain of yogurt bliss.
Clara was more reserved, choosing just strawberries and chocolate morsels to top off her cheesecake-flavored yogurt. She couldn’t ignore the quickening in her heart when she got to the register. She pulled out her wallet and waited for the girl behind the counter to ring up a total she couldn’t pay.