"So, any gossip to update me with? Any men in your life?"
I looked down at the mocktail and stirred it distractedly. "Nothing much, just college, you know."
My cousin's eyes were piercing beneath the pair of sunglasses, snugly settled into her shimmering, black hair. "No men in the picture?" She took a sip from her own brightly coloured drink, then looked around the restaurant with interest. "I don't think I've ever seen you with a guy, come to think of it."
I shrugged, and looked away with embarrassment. "I don't really have time with college and all, you know how it is." It was an excuse, of course. I'd always been atrocious when it came to men, not handling it with the ease that she always did.
"Not really," she muttered, clearly disinterested. "You know I've never been into any of that. Academia is hardly my forte."
She wasn't lying. My cousin, Madeline, had always glided through life without a hitch. College to her had never really been in the question, not something that had ever been a remote possibility. She'd been scouted by a modelling agent while we were still in high school, and months later she was plastered all over various magazines and catalogues. Despite being younger than me, I looked up to her in so many ways because she always carried herself with such elegance and determination. Life for her was always about having fun, and the rare occasions she invited me along for the ride; I jumped at the chance. Unfortunately, she was often too busy for me, this date having already been cancelled four times previously. Even now, while we were together, there was an atmosphere between us, as if she had somewhere more important to be. She'd already taken two phone calls and was constantly texting while offering me standard responses.
This atmosphere was always an issue, as in some ways, despite being family, I always felt like a hanger-on when in Madeline's presence. She just had a natural way of making me feel uncomfortable, as if I didn't fully deserve to be there with her. I found myself both intimidated and enamoured as she'd interact with me with ease, whereas I found myself nervous and often stumbling over my words. There was like a requirement for me to always say the right thing, otherwise Madeline might lose interest and be swayed by a better offer.
Don't get me wrong, my cousin was never rude or cruel to me, and these feelings she brought forth were never intentionally provoked. As far as I knew, she was oblivious to the self-conscious unnerving she induced within me. Contrastingly to my response, she was always polite and energetic whenever we met up, despite the obvious fact that I was taking up her precious time. There was just some underlying unease on my part whenever I'd see her. Partly because she was so ridiculously good-looking and drew the attention of most people in the vicinity. Frequently, Madeline would have drinks or meals bought for her while we were out, often by some potential suitor. It hurt when I didn't receive similar treatment. Of course, she brushed off most of it, but it would only bring attention to the fact that I received zero interest in comparison. Everyone was obsessed and enraptured by my gorgeous cousin; whereas I was more of a plain jane: frumpy clothes and thick-rimmed glasses were my signature look. I was jealous of the attention she received, but being my cousin, I was also proud of her and happy that she was regarded so highly by everyone.
I was a hanger-on to Madeline's popularity, there was no denying it, and over time, I had gradually embraced the position. Whenever I tagged Madeline in one of my Instagram stories, my profile would inevitably gain more interest. If I entered a restaurant at her side, we'd inevitably be shown to the best table. If a guy bought her a drink, she'd sometimes nod towards me and I'd swiftly receive one too. I'd notice a flash of embarrassment on the guys face, as if he was apologetic for not having noticed me in the first place. I was never upset by these occurrences, because I was used to them. Being in my cousin's company was a ride, and I happily came along for it and took whatever I could get.
Now, I should make clear that I'm not a total loser or anything, I'm just not physically exceptional in comparison to Madeline. I worked extremely hard in my studies and was a top-grade student, yet, Madeline just seemed to surpass me without effort. For instance, I'd bought myself a second-hand car to get to college with the money I'd saved from a part-time job during my studies. My parents were proud of me for all of a week, before Madeline bought herself a brand new Mini after a lucrative model shoot. She didn't do this with the intention of upsetting me, because as far as I knew, she wasn't even aware I'd bought a car in the first place. It was just another occasion where she proved she was better than me without even trying.
"How about you?" I asked. Changing the topic of conversation to her was always the safe option; Madeline just loved talking about herself. Always had done.
She smirked. "Well, you know that Dean I was seeing for a while?"
"Uh huh."
"Finished with him."
I blinked rapidly a few times. "Really? Dean Henderson? You finished with him?"
Madeline shrugged, then she leant down and took another sip through the straw; clutching it with her expertly manicured nails. "I can do a lot better. I'm going to keep my options open."
I blinked again, and my mouth hung open in shock. Dean Henderson wasn't just some guy, he was the star quarterback of the local football team. I had zero interest in sport and even I knew who he was. He was like some eligible bachelor that every girl lusted after, and here my cousin was, discarding him like he was nothing. I didn't know whether to be disgusted or impressed.
"Anything else I can get you?" A waiter had approached the table, clearly directing his question towards my cousin. Not once did he look my way.
Madeline looked towards me with widened her eyes. "I think we're good here, yeah? Can you grab us the bill?"
I fingered the drinks menu anxiously while the waiter scurried away. We'd only been here about twenty minutes and this was our first drink. When Madeline had agreed to meet, I'd had the hope that we would be here a couple of hours. There were about four or five different mocktails I had been planning on making my way through, as well as exploring the expansive lunch menu. I was about to voice my desires, when Madeline reached for her purse.
"I've got this one," she said, a most familiar declaration after our meet ups. It sounds bad, particularly with my desire to explore the menu, but Madeline usually paid after our meet ups. I was a student, and she simply earned way more than me with her career. I'd felt bad at first, but she'd encouraged me to order whatever I wanted, insisting that money wasn't an issue.
I was thankful, because honestly, I couldn't afford the bars and restaurants that Madeline always insisted we visited. However, on this occasion, I had an urge to show her that I appreciated her and wanted to make clear that her money wasn't the motive for meeting up. Considering we'd only had one round of drinks, this appeared the perfect opportunity to treat her. "I'll get it," I said, while reaching for my own bag.
However, Madeline rolled her eyes and waved me away. "Don't be silly," she said. "It's covered." She waved the waiter back over and held up her credit card. The guy couldn't have dashed over any quicker.
"All to your satisfaction, ma'am?" he asked oddly, considering he'd been with us merely seconds ago. He appeared flustered and fumbled over his words, before he nodded his head and lingered awkwardly by the table.
Madeline pursed her lips and nodded, and the waiter soon took the hint and disappeared with her credit card.
This would usually be the moment I'd nip to the restroom, but since we'd only had one drink, there was no need. I was still amused by the waiter's obvious infatuation with my cousin, and was about to make a joke, when she reached over and took a photo of the receipt. Then, while I watched in confusion, she turned in her chair and held her leg up. Right there in the restaurant, she unzipped her cream, knee-length boot down the ankle and popped her foot out; before spreading her toes, pedicured in the same white colour that her hands were. I noticed there were lines across the top of her foot from the leather of the tight boot, and I figured she was just freeing her foot momentarily and stretching it out. However, she then moved the foot around in various angles while snapping photo after photo.
My head jolted in confusion, and I had the urge to say something, but feeling anxious, I remained silent and watched as she slipped her foot back into the boot, zipped it up, then turned back towards me. "So, do you want to go shopping or something or are you good?" she asked, while dropping her phone back into her handbag.