“Olive! You ready, honey?” Dad hollered down the hall. I took a deep breath and mentally prepared myself for the night ahead. I clomped in my tall shoes down the long hallway into the living room. Almost everyone was ready and sitting around on their phones. Mom was looking in the big wall mirror, adjusting her pink lipstick. When she dressed up, most people would assume she was my sister and not my mom, to which she replied, “Oh, stop it.” But we all knew she loved it.

“They should be here soon,” Matt said, and I could feel his eyes on me, but I avoided eye contact. I refused to break tonight. I spent years building these walls up for a reason, and Sarah was not going to tear them down. I was unmovable. I was the ‘70s wallpaper that refused to leave your grandmother’s bathroom. Good luck getting me to crack.

Soon the door creaked open. “We’re here! We’re here! Sorry, we were running a bit late. Logan is parking the car.” Sarah’s beautiful voice echoed through the house, but it sounded like nails on a chalkboard to me. Her voice matched her looks: alluring. I couldn’t even turn around to see her. I could hear her shuffle in the door, greeting everyone one by one. I soon heard another, deeper voice follow behind her.

“Hey, I just parked on the road so we can all ride togeth—” A pause in the voice told me they both were aware of my presence.

“Olive?”

I slowly turned on my heel and faced Sarah and her husband, Logan.

Sarah was stunning, as usual. She was always the pretty sister, with a tiny nose and thick brown hair that she got from my dad's side. She had the perfect hourglass body that I worked for years to imitate when I was younger. Her heels made her legs look a mile long, and I felt put to shame in my tight black dress. It didn’t matter how much weight I lost or how expensive my makeup products were—I was never going to be Sarah.

Logan was the same as always, with a bit more beard. He was tall and lean, dressed in a nice suit, looking like he stepped out of an Armani commercial. Together, they were perfect. It was like watching the stars of a modeling reality tv show enter the room. Once Sarah’s shining looks stepped foot in the door, everyone else’s dimmed around her.

I was instantly thrown into a pool of melancholy and uncertainty. I looked back and forth between Sarah and Logan, unsure of how to answer my name being called into the room. Hi, yes. I am Olive. I have not seen you in a while. Maybe I wasn’t the stubborn glued-on wallpaper. Maybe I was the waterlogged popcorn ceiling threatening to crack at any moment.