"It's like kissing your sister."
Usually, that phrase has a less than savory connotation. People tend to associate it with a less than desirable outcome, as in contests that end in a tie.
It has a whole different meaning for me, though. When I hear it, I think about my sister, Amy.
Such hasn't always been the case, though, but we've become close in ways that would surprise a lot of people... if they only knew.
Amy's a couple of years older than I am. We were pretty close growing up. Of course there were times where I was the pesky little brother, but that was my job, right? More often than not, I was allowed to tag along, and it seemed like we did just about everything together.
Then she was a teenager. Her interests changed. Amy discovered boys, and suddenly, things were different, though not necessarily in a good way.
Her first real crush was on a boy two years older than her. I never did find out what happened, but I remember one day when mom called her a slut and a tramp as Amy stormed to her room in tears. Like just about everything that troubles teenagers, all of that passed, and Amy recovered with no serious emotional scars to show for it.
As for me, I discovered girls the day Beverly Allen kissed me on the cheek. She and Amy were the best of friends, and Bev, an only child, thought I was the sweetest little brother anyone could ask for.
If she'd only known.
Amy knew, though. She rolled her eyes, and as she pulled her friend away by the hand, I exhaled a deep, airy breath.
Amy quickly set me straight; Bev was her friend, two years older than me, and I had no chance with her. In short, I needed to find a girl my own age.
That was easier said than done, especially given that none were as sophisticated as Bev.
Fast forward a few years. Amy and I were like two pieces to a puzzle.
We weren't inseparable, but there was a strong bond between us. We looked out for each other like any siblings should; more than once, Amy steered me away from a girl she knew was no good for me. Time usually proved her right.
She had a steady boyfriend, but he worked his after school job so much that she and I were able to hang together.
I was sixteen, Amy was eighteen, and the day she graduated high school was a rude awakening. For both of us. We didn't really talk about it, but we both knew things were about to change in ways we weren't prepared for.
She was about to go to college, and for the first time, we would be separated. Really separated.
When she left, the sudden silence at home was deafening. I didn't really appreciate how much having her around meant to me until she wasn't there.
We didn't see a lot of each other; the occasional weekend, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's. Amy didn't come home for spring break; she went to the beach with friends. Mom was apprehensive, I think because she remembered her spring break trips. Dad was still blinded with a false image of his little princess's innocence.
Amy came home for the summer after her freshman year a changed woman. She was different somehow, in a way I couldn't quite figure. We sat down during the summer and worked on a plan that would help me follow her to college the next year after I finished high school.
All too soon, though, it was time for school to start again, and she was gone.
Amy got into an argument with my mom on the phone three weeks later. I don't know what they were fighting about, but I heard mom mention Amy's name as she was yelling into the phone, and when she'd hung up, she and dad had retreated out of earshot to discuss whatever was wrong. Amy called back an hour later to talk to me, still upset, though she wouldn't tell me what was wrong.
Unlike her freshman year, where visits home were once a month regular, September passed, and then October, with no visit from Amy.
My birthday's at the beginning of November, and I turned eighteen on the first Thursday of the month. I was shocked when I came home from school to find Amy's car in the driveway.
I walked through the front door of our house to the sound of the stereo playing.
"Amy?"
I heard a kitchen cabinet door close, and as I entered the living room, Amy appeared in the edge of the kitchen.
"What are you doing home?" I asked dropping my book bag on the couch.
"I thought I'd come home for your birthday," she said. "Surprised?"
"Yeah," I replied as she hugged me.
"Good," she said, kissing me on the cheek. "Happy birthday."
I hugged her back, and we held on to each other long enough that it was awkward before letting go.
"Are you and mom...?"
"Mom and I have some things we need to work out," she said. "This weekend, though, it's your birthday. That's what I'm focused on."
I went out with friends that night and Amy came along, but only after she and mom had discussed what remained to be done for the party we were having at the house the next day.
We got home pretty late, taking off our shoes once in the house to be as quiet as possible, since it looked like our parents were already asleep.
"I'm really glad you came home, Sis," I said.
"Me, too," she said, leaning against the wall outside her room.
She leaned into her room, tossing her shoes in, then stood back up, facing me.
"I couldn't let you turn eighteen and not be here for it," she said.
"After the argument you and mom had," I said, "I wasn't sure if you were going to come home or not."
"I really wish you wouldn't bring that up," she said, hugging me. "Mom and I will work things out. You don't need to worry about that."
I put my arms around Amy, completing the embrace.
"But thanks for being concerned," she said.
Amy kissed me on the cheek and pressed her cheek against mine. A moment later, she pushed back and kissed me again, this time on the lips. I could swear I felt her tongue brush against my lips.
"Happy Birthday, little brother," she said, resting her forehead on my cheek.
"What...? What was that for?" I asked.
Amy looked up at me and smiled as she bit her lip.
"What?" she asked. "I can't kiss my little brother?"
"For starters," I said, "I'm your younger brother. I'm not little."
I had at least thirty, and probably more like forty pounds on her.
"Whatever," she said, shaking her head and continuing to smile at me. "You will always be my little brother."
Her hands gently grasped my face and she kissed me again, lips gently but firmly pressed against mine.
"And I will always, always love you," she said, sliding her arms around my neck and hugging me.
"I love you, too, Sis," I said.
"I know," she said, pulling back and looking at me. "Good night."
Another kiss, this one quick, but affectionate.
"Good night, Sis," I said as she released me and disappeared into her own room to call it a night.
Just that quickly, it was done and over.
I fumbled with the door to my bedroom as I pushed it shut, my mouth suddenly dry and my heart pounding.
It was the end of a long day, and in spite of what had just happened, sleep took me quickly.
Cliff, one of my high school buddies, and I were playing a video game in the living room the next day when Amy walked through on her way to the kitchen. I had just finished killing off his avatar and I noticed he was focused on anything but the TV screen.
